The Day One Direction Died

Chapter 2 - The Dress - Eleanor

The Day One Direction Died

Chapter 2 – Eleanor

I sat up on the couch. I winced as pain went through the base of my back. Why did I sleep on a couch? I opened my eyes to see Zayn’s new flat. Oh yeah. I thought, before guilt and regret settled in my stomach. Oh god, I had to back! I had to write my part… I needed it in like… I took out my phone and looked at the time. It was almost 10am. I couldn’t believe I had stayed asleep that long, but then again, I didn’t get much sleep last night. Actually, I was surprised that I had slept at all.

The funeral was in 2 hours.

I swung Zayn’s duvet off my body. I couldn’t believe I had let him see me cry like that. I never cried. Ever. And the fact that I cried for hours in an unknown mans arms proved how horrid the situation was. Well, he wasn’t an unknown man, he was Zayn. I hadn’t really been friends with him before, but he was the only one that was as close to them as I was. Even more, except to Louis. But who knows, maybe Zayn just did know HIM better than I did. Even though I doubted it. But I knew the only reason I slept at all was because I stayed here, and I was grateful that Zayn had let me stay, even if we weren’t really friends, but I guess we were now. I mean, you can’t really go through something like with somebody without being friends.

I stood up to see Zayn walking out of his room and his eyes went straight to my red face that was still blotchy from crying last night. His eyes softened when he saw me.

"Hey. You okay?" He asked, he was always the caring one of them, maybe except for Niall or Liam. But Zayn was wiser, he read more into people’s thoughts and actions. You couldn’t lie to Zayn, he saw right through everything. But I think that intelligence and knowledge makes it that much harder with his best friends’ death. He knows what people really think of him, how much they pity him and I was sure that he as well as I hated that pity. There was no use in pity if you didn’t do anything about it.

Looking into Zayn’s eyes, that pity brought back the memories of last night. My heart was a ton of bricks as I looked away from Zayn and down at the floor.

"I’m fine." I mumbled, but knowing Zayn, he would see right through my lie. It was just a manner of if he would push it or not.

"Okay, if you want to talk…"

"I think we talked enough last night." I snapped, than registered the shock on his face. I felt even more guilty. It wasn’t his fault that I had an emotional breakdown. Why did I come here in the first place?

Because I thought he would understand me. And I was right.

I chided myself. God I was going insane. It was all too much to handle.

It was as if the universe said, "Oh hey look, she’s had a pretty nice life, let’s show her what life is really all about. Let’s kill her friends and her boyfriend, and just completely ruin her life and have her blame herself. Yeah, that sounds good."

I was really going insane, no point in denying it anymore.

"Sorry…" I mumbled after a few moments when Zayn was looking at me with wide eyes. I rarely snapped, and I had never snapped at him before. Well I guess there was a first time for everything with him. Why couldn’t I be myself anymore? It was like someone bottled up me and mixed up all the pieces so I was left confused and pieces of me were flying out everywhere and at everyone. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know what to do.

"It’s okay, I know it’s been hard. But your still here, I’m still here, that’s all that matters, right?" He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, which somehow made me feel better. My anger at my life and the guilt of crying deflated, and I hunched my shoulders.