Stockholm Syndrome | H.S. |

Sixteen

A knock on the door brings Desiree out of her thoughts. Agent Brooks walks in with a full grin plastered on her face. She shakes the food bag at Desiree and sets it down in front of the young woman.

Desiree eyes the bag and starts to feel self conscious. She never really liked the idea of eating in front of people. She felt she ate weird. Eventually she grabbed the bag and opened it.

Agent Brooks took a seat and watched as Desiree took a peek inside the bag.

"You have to eat for two so I just thought of getting you 6 tacos," Agent Brooks tells Desiree.

Desiree snaps her head up at Agent Brooks.

***

September 22 5:45 am

Desiree's POV

I watch the top of Gemma's head. It's the only thing I can see from my point of view. Where did he get her from? Has he kidnapped other women before me?

A small groan is heard from Gemma and I notice her head slightly move. I sit on my knees, my arm still cuffed. She moves around a bit more before I can see her look in both directions.

"G-Gemma," I softly speak and she jumps whipping her head around. "Everything's going to be okay? Okay? You're safe," I tell her. She uses her free hand to grab her face.

"You're, you're that girl that was kidnapped a couple months ago," she voices staring at me with a confused expression on her face. Her expression drops. "He wasn't lying.. He really did kidnap you."

"Everything will be okay Gemma. I'll protect you from him. He sort of loves me." I didn't mean to sound braggy but it came out that way. Do I like the attention I'm getting from Harry? I can't.

"You don't need to protect me. I'm his sister."

Wait what? Are you serious right now? Gemma is his sister? Why would he kidnap his own sister?

"You're his what?"

"Sister. He's my brother. I didn't think he was serious when he told me that he kidnapped you. I should've known though. Harry has always had something wrong with him," she says and looks away from me.

"Something wrong with him? What do you mean?"

Gemma sighs.

"My brother has Schizophrenia."

"That disorder that makes you have different personalities?" I question. I've heard of schizophrenia but don't know really much about it.

"No. It's kind of like that but no. Voices are in his head telling him to do things that aren't good. He's a good kid, really."

"So what drove him to do this?"

"You want to know a story?" Gemma asks me as she stands but has to crouch so her arm doesn't come off. Her dirty blonde hair flops into her face and she has a mini struggle trying to get it out of her face. I almost laugh at her but felt that would be disrespectful.

"Let me guess, about your brother?"

She nods.

"I'm going to let you in on some things about my brother and what my horrid family did to him when we were younger," she says with a livid look on her face. She sits on the edge of the bed but her arm still bent backwards in a seemingly painful position but not one ounce of pain is etched on her face. She stares at me. "No wonder you caught his eye. You're very beautiful," she compliments. I look down with a slight smile. I don't know whether to thank her or stay quiet. "When I was younger I noticed my parents were a lot different with Harry. They didn't pay attention to him or care enough that he would cry and cry all night. Sometimes I would go and try to calm him down." She chuckles. "Imagine a 3 year old going to calm down her 1 year old brother," she smiles. "When he started growing older, it's like they resented him. They yelled at him for doing kid things and hated when he got too close to me. I noticed things were wrong with him but he was still my brother, you know? When I was 14 and Harry was 12, he came up to my room. He had burst through my door and I yelled at him for doing that. I gave him a rule that he never seemed to follow. He told me my mom and dad were taking him to get ice cream. At that time it didn't strike me as unordinary. It should have, they never did anything nice for him or to him. I regret every single day for being so rude to him because he never came back after that ice cream trip. I asked my parents constantly and they never told me what they did with him. Until he found me. We've kept in touch. I love him. I take care of him. I just can't believe he kidnapped you," she says. I sniffle.

"That's horrible! Are you telling me they abandoned their only son?" I ask her tears rolling down my cheeks. That's messed up. How could they do that?

"Yeah. Still haven't forgave them for it. I'm sorry he's doing this," she apologizes. I shake my head.

"It shouldn't matter now if he let's me go. I have no one to go to. He took away my parents and my best friend," I tell her as tears spill out even more just thinking about my parents and Tara.

"I'm soo sorry. It's not him."

"I know. I didn't know what he had but I know he needs help."

"You care for him don't you?" she asks me. That's a new question.

"I-I don't know," I stutter. "It's possible."

"You don't have to be ashamed. For as long as you've been in here I would've caught Stockholm Syndrome too," she nods.

"Stockholm Syndrome?"

"When you fall in love with your captor. Most people do it to stay alive but it's like you've accepted that he's never letting you go, that you're going to be with him forever," she says.

"You got all that from 'It's possible'?" I question confused as hell.

"You're not very hard to read. You like my brother. He's quite the charmer actually."

"Has, has he done this before? Kidnap another girl?"

"No. This is the first I'm hearing about this. Although he had a serious relationship with a nurse that helped him with his disorder. They were quite the lovers but she left him for someone else. Her name was Marissa," she reveals.

Something inside me erupts. Anger? Jealousy? Sadness? Maybe all three but I don't like this story she's telling me. I don't want to hear about his love life. I'm the only one.

Oh god. I think I'm in too deep.

I shake my head of my thoughts. I seriously need to get out of here.

My stomach starts to hurt and I clutch it. I feel something coming up my throat so I lean over the bed and heave, everything I had yesterday coming up.

When I finish, I feel drained.

"You okay?" Gemma asks. "Is he feeding you?"

"Yes he is. I'm just not feeling well. I think I'm sick," I tell her tasting the vomit in my mouth. I need to brush my teeth this is horrible.

"You poor girl," she mumbles. "HARRY!" she yells causing me to jump about 20 feet in the air.

I hear hard footsteps rushing up the stairs and Harry bursting in. He looks at me and Gemma and then the vomit on the ground.

"What happened?" he questions.

"I think she's getting sick."

"No! You can't!" He walks over to me but makes sure he doesn't step in the vomit. He feels my forehead. "You're burning up," he whispers. He rushes into the bathroom to return seconds later with a rag. He folds it and sets it on my forehead. He digs in his pocket pulling out a key and unlocking my arm. It falls and he tucks me in.

He looks at Gemma.

"Gem you can't tell anyone!"

"I-I won't Harry. If you want I'll stay and help you out here," she tells him.

"Do-Do you promise?"

"Harry when have I ever betrayed you?" He smiles and goes over to uncuff her. "Thank you. What do you need help with?"

"Can you make her a bowl of chicken soup. You always made it better then me," he tells her.

"Of course," she nods before exiting the room. Gemma please don't do anything stupid.

Harry climbs into bed with me.

"I-I'm sorry. Get better. I love you," he says cuddling up with me. My eyes slowly close. At first resting but after I feel Harry's body heat I start to get comfortable and sleep.