The Guardian Angel

The Funeral

A/N: I just want everyone to know. I do not own any characters but the Justin one. He is my original character. For further noticed his name is not Justin Bieber but Justin Avery. A name I wanted to change mine too. But here is the first chapter, however, this chapter is written by my co-writer IifGotThatZap she did an excellent job. Hope you like it :)

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{Zayn}

I sit down in front of the window, looking out into the pouring rain as I put the cigarette back into my mouth. I inhale the smoke, keeping it in my lungs, enjoying the warmth and how it lingers through my cold and tense body. I then exhale, closing my eyes as I do so, feeling the smoke slowly caress my face before leaving out the window. I repeat a few times now until my cigarette dies out. I'm on my fourth and I don't want to stop.

The aching pain makes its way over to my chest, pounding harshly as if it wanted to grab my attention. It does, so I clutch my shirt, slightly digging my nails into the skin. I try not to show any signs of pain, even though no one is here to watch.

I've been having these attacks ever since Justin was gone. They're often and happen at least two times. I ignore them, it's what I always do when I'm in pain; I ignore. But it's not always the best thing to do because whatever you are ignoring is still there, the pain is still there but you choose to pretend as if nothing were hurting you.

I've been hurting without Justin and I wish he were here, to cuddle with me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. I wish he can somehow tell me that this was some sort of sick and twisted joke, that he's not dead, that today is not the day of his funeral.

The funeral to which I am not going to.

I can't stand to see him be lowered down six feet underground. I can't stand the fact that, that will be the last time I would ever actually 'see' him. I can't stand the fact that he is dead because of my fault.

I've done way too many bad things before, I've meet awful people. But my past did not come back and bite me in the neck, instead, it bit Justin.

I wiped the few tears gathering up in my eyes because I wasn't going to do that again. I've cried too many times and I think it's not healthy to do so once again after two weeks of his death.

There's a knock at my door and I groan.

They open anyway, without any permission. I hear footsteps behind me and I already know who it is due to the unpleased grunt escaping his lips.

"Zayn, why aren't you in your suit?" He says, referring to the tux that lay on my bed. Perfectly ironed and washed small details of silver on the pockets and sleeves. Shame that I won't be wearing it today.

"Niall, I've told you more than once; I'm not going to the funeral." I put my dead cigarette in the ashtray, but when I am going to pull a new one out of the pack, it's being pulled away from my hands. "Give that back, you tosser!" I exclaim, knotting my eyebrows once I look up from where I am sitting to see Niall with a disappointed look on his face.

"These aren't going to do any well to your depression." He says sternly, shaking the box so the cigarettes inside them would rattle.

I scoff and reach up to snatch them away from him. "I'm not depressed." I defend, sticking the pack inside of my pocket so he wouldn't take them away from me again.

"You haven't left your room in a full week."

"So what? Most people do that." I roll my eyes, looking out the window, avoiding his intense stair.

"Yeah, depressed people." He takes my chin into his hands, making me look at him. "Get dressed Zayn; you're going to regret not going to his funeral."

I pull my chin away and snort. "Why? Because I didn't say my last 'goodbye's?" I say dramatically, in a sarcastic way.

"No." Niall says. "Because he would've gone if you were to be the one that is dead."
And because of that, I find myself in an itchy suit as I stand outside in the rain, watching as they lower my best friend into the ground. There was a moment of silence, the only sound to be heard was sniffles and the rain colliding with the ground.

Niall nudges my side and leans into whisper something in my ear. "It's okay to cry during funerals." He reminds me.

"Is it okay not to?" I say back, my tone slightly stern as I look into his sad blue eyes.

He doesn't answer; he just purses his lips and watches how the workers fill the hole up with wet dirt. His coffin slowly disappearing, Justin slowly disappearing.

Then I realize again that this is all my fault, he's dead because of me. He shouldn't have met me in the first place, he would've been okay. He would've been alive and smiling.

I feel the familiar aching pain go up to my head, the only sound I hear is the sound of my heart beating loudly into my ears. The priest is saying something, but I hear nothing. The pain begins to pound into my chest, and in my lungs, knocking my breath out.

I gasp for air as I grip onto Niall's shoulder. He immediately turns to look at me with concerned eyes, his hands gripping onto my shoulders, preventing me from falling to my knees. He says something, but it's sounds as if he were underwater. It's muffled as he says it even louder, I don't answer because something else is leaving my lips. I let out a cry, it's loud because now I feel all eyes on me.

I suddenly lose balance but Niall catches me. I rest my chin on his shoulder as I flutter my eyes open, a figure close to a tree. A familiar smile on his face as he walks a bit closer. There is a glow that goes with him, a glow that follows him as he walks towards me.

I recognize him, his smile, but there is something I see that I find... strange yet beautiful.

A pair of large white angel wings sits on his shoulder blades, which reminds of the tattooed ones he had. He bats them slightly, before flying away and I swear that I have gone mental just by seeing that.

I feel my eyelids become heavier and heavier, to the point they are finally closed. I see darkness.