Don't Tell My Dad! (One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter Fourteen

Today was it.

Today I had to stand in front of my family and family friends and speak of my uncle. While they mourn and cry in their dark black colors, I had to speak about him. About his life and how it was cut short.

But how could I do that when I feel that I'm the reason he's dead. I startled him awake. I practically gave him the heart attack. I got my phone disconnected. And I couldn't save him.

I stood in front of my full length mirror in my bedroom wearing a nice black skirt with my grey athletics hoodie. They didn't go together and it probably wasn't appropriate for a funeral but I just wasn't in the mood to appeal to anyone. I didn't care if people judged me. I felt like things will never go back to the way they were and I just don't know if I can handle watching my uncle's casket being carried before my eyes.

At that moment my mum walked in. I stayed facing the mirror with my back to her. But I could still see her in the mirror and I knew she was looking at what I was wearing.

"You can't wear that." She stated.

"Oh well." I replied with no emotion before walking past her and sitting on my bed.

Mum came and sat down on my bed beside me. But didn't say anything.

She had come down from Wales again for the funeral and was going back tomorrow after my checkup.

The hospital released me early for the funeral and said I only needed to come back for regular checkups. It still hurt all over. I had bumps and bruises not to mention stitches in my head and broken ribs. But that couldn't compare to how I felt inside. I saw my own uncle die and I couldn't save him. That hurts more than anything.

Mum had tried plenty of times to console with me, but she and I both know that she doesn't understand what I went through. In her long life time, possibly triple as long as mine, she has never witnessed death. She's never felt helpless to a person who needed you most.

But right now she just sat there. There was no point in saying "its okay" or "I understand what you're going though" because it's not true. It's not okay, my uncle's gone and she doesn't understand what I'm going through. So instead, we just sat there, comfortable in each others company and silence.

We must have sat there for up to five minutes before my father walked in. He looked dashing in his black suit and black tie. However his face was drained and features saddened, just like me.

He was the closest to understanding exactly what I was going through. He had a closer bond to Uncle Alistair than I could ever understand, they were brothers of course. Dad felt that he was part of the reason his brother was gone. He felt it was his fault I couldn't call an ambulance and his fault me, his own daughter, was almost killed too. I really felt sorry for him.

"Time to go" Dad mumbled, more to himself. He hadn't quite come to grips with the fact that he was about to go to his little brother's funeral.

Mum and I got up and followed Dad as we headed to the car, hand in hand.

I was surprised Dad didn't say anything about what I was wearing. Then again, he was probably too caught up in grief. Either that or he just understood what I was going through. I'm sure he could understand better than anyone else.

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The weather set the mood at the funeral. I watched out the window as it poured down from the grey sky, acting as a backdrop behind Uncle Alistair's casket.

The room was filled with people dressed in black. Relatives I knew and some I didn't. But even as some told their speeches and cried tears of mourning, I couldn't take my eyes of that casket. And to think I was the last one to see him alive. Man, it hurt.