I'll Be Superhuman (One Direction Fanfiction)

Chapter 16- Zayn- Heroin(e)

~Sorry for not updating rght away when there were 5 votes. This week has been so busy, I just... Sigh. BUT! The new chapter is NOW UP! Woop! This has been pretty tough to write. I've had parts of Zayn's chapters stuck in my head forever, but I've found it difficult to put them to words to make everyone see it how I do. I hope you like it, though! And I put the A Team as a song to go with this chapter because I think it fits really well. Except for the part about selling love to another man.... It's not that kind of fan fiction...~

How did this happen?

How?

How had his family been dead for a week and he never found out until now?

It's because you were being a conceded asshole and not responding to her calls, a horrible voice in Zayn's head told him.

After Zayn was done talking to Jeff, he paced around the dark ally, running his fingers through his hair over and over again and hissing incoherent words under his breath. He couldn't bring himself to cry. Not yet. He understood they were dead, but he couldn't quite grasp the concept that they were gone. He was still processing the fact that he would never see them smile again, never hear their voices, their laughter. He couldn't understand the fact that he was now an orphan and an only child roaming through the streets of New York City with nobody to turn to for help...

He was alone.

It finally hit him. He had nobody. His father had died when he was young and he had no other known family left now.

Guilt bubbled in the pit of Zayn's stomach and creeped through him. If he had just answered a call, if he had called sooner, he would have heard his families voices one last time. What if he had gone home when he was kicked out of school? Maybe he could have died with them, like he was supposed to. Maybe he could have saved them. Did Zayn actually kill his family?

The thought stopped him dead in his tracks.

He could have saved them. And he didn't.

Zayn's arms started to shake. Images of him heroically pulling his mum and sisters out of their burning house swirled around in his mind. He didn't do that. He could have saved them, but he didn't.

Zayn kept repeating that to himself. He could have saved them, he could have saved them, he could have saved them...

He wrapped his trembling arms around his chest as if he were hugging himself and looked around the street in a daze.

He had gotten good grades, graduated high school early, went to college... all for his family. They had been having financial issues for so long he hoped that if he had gotten a job he could help them pay off bills, get enough food to last them the month, send his sisters off to a good school.

Now I am pointless...Zayn thought to himself. He felt something settle in his stomach to replace the guilt. He felt hollow, but it was still heavy, like there was something else inside him and it threatened to tear him apart. He was empty, and yet still full of this overwhelming sadness.

Zayn stumbled out of the alleyway, half sober, and he was still in a daze from being kicked in the head and stunned from the news of his family. He knew what to do now.

Beaten, bruised, and not in his right mind, Zayn found his way back to the party he had been at. He was about ready to walk in, but what he wanted had already stepped out of the doors.

The guy was drunk and reeked of alcohol and sweat. He was alone and Zayn was thankful for that.

“Hey,” Zayn said to the guy. The man turned around and tried to focus on Zayn's face in his drunken state. “You're the one I bought those grams off of a few hours ago, right?”