The Black Parade, chapter 2
And if you're heart stops beating
I'll be here wondering
Did you get what you deserve?
The ending of your life
And if you get to heaven
I'll be here waiting, babe,
Did you get what you deserve?
Dead.
I think everyone expects, that when you die, you lose all feeling. Become nothing more than a mere soul. Oh, how wrong these humans can be. I feel more now than they have ever felt when living. This world wasn't made for narrow-minded apathetics, but that's just how it turned out.
When the monitor beeps for what could be the last time, you get the feeling that you're not alone anymore. All my life, I was lonely, beaten, and suicidal. But now there's no time for thoughts like that, because the Doctors are back and the relatives are weeping, waiting for the time when I close my eyes.
But I refuse to. I know that they are coming, and I know they're coming soon. I know I have to stay awake just that little bit longer. I have to.
Everything moulds into slow motion, and I begin to take all that happens around me...
The clock ticks.
The mothers cry.
The Doctors wait.
The Nurses sigh.
The colours flash.
The darkness faints.
The hearts shatter.
Here come The Saints.
There's a blinding flash, a tremendous shatter, an almighty crash. Screams echo throughout the small hospital room and someone grabs my hand. I feel myself leave the bed, and float, feather-like, upwards. I can't see anything, it's all in complete darkness, but I can sense bodies around me.
Dead!
You heard the news that you're dead.
No one ever had much nice to say
I think I never liked you anyway
Oh take
Me from the hospital bed
Wouldn't it be grand
It ain't exactly what you planned
But wouldn't it be great
If we were dead.
Ah, dead....
I opened my eyes.
I was in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing but dead blades of grass and dying flowers, and corpses of various animals here and there and...
Everything was dead.
It was like the grim reapers dream land. Carcasses were burning in a heap in the distance, and blank pages were fluttering around in the soft breeze.
That's when I noticed I wasn't alone.
Turning around, I saw them. They were not at all what I had expected.
Hundreds of them. Hundreds. Skeletons. They were not real people, they were bones dressed in drag. Drag - ripped, shredded rags, that looked so wrong in every way possible.
They were all staring at me with the same crazed look in their eyes. Those eyes....if I could call them that. They were basically blank sockets, with tiny black pinpricks in the centre of each.
I moved backwards slightly, and immediately they stepped forward. I froze, then looked behind me. No one was there. I took another step back, and they moved forward. I took another step, then another. Every time I moved back, they moved forwards.
I stopped. I stared at their gruesome frames and opened my mouth.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
In an instant, one of them, who looked like the leader, stepped forward. He grabbed me by the scuff of my hospital gown and made me stare into his almost-empty eyes. I noticed that the black pinpricks were not pupils. They were letters.
Three letters - TSC. I broke away from him and felt my hands start to shake. He stepped back into the throng of walking corpses and glared at me.
"Who - wh-what, what does it stand for?" I said in hushed tones, stumbling over my words.
The leader, the one who had grabbed me, stepped forward once again. This time, he did not touch me. He lifted up the rags that were covering his visible ribcage and each and every one of the skeleton-like figures standing behind him did the same. I stared at them and felt my stomach lurch.
Clearly visible through the bone-bars that made up their ribs, was a heart. A heart, a human heart...but it was black. The letters TSC were carved into the flesh and the area around 'TSC' was raw and painful-looking.
"We are," he breathed, covering up the horrific excuse for a heart, "The Skeleton Crew."
I knew it then. I realised, right at that moment - they weren't The Saints. They weren't who I thought they were, they were not the ones who were looking for me.
They were frauds.
I turned on the spot and ran as fast as my feeble legs would take me.
I jumped over fires and dodged between bodies. I leapt over bleeding rivers and stumbled over burning corpses. I ran for my life.
I ran for my death.
And in my honest observation
During this operation
Found a complication in your heart
So long
'Cause now you've got
Maybe just two weeks to live
Is that the most the both of you can give!?
* * *
The Skeleton Crew hadn't followed me. I heard them laugh as I ran away from them, but still, they didn't follow.
I was confused, scared, lost...It was dark now, and there wasn't a single star in the sky.
I was constantly tripping over bodies. The overwhelming stench of death was strong in the polluted air but I carried on for the sake of it. I knew there was no going back now. And as for the death...well, I wasn't far from it myself.
The ground I was walking on became steadier, softer, smoother. I looked around. I could here a distant thumping...over and over again.
It was like the sound of a thousand feet marching towards me. I knew, however, that this wasn't possible.
Not possible...or not probable? There was a large difference between these two phrases. People often got confused between them.
The marching was getting closer...so close I could hear their laughs, smell their raw death, feel their emotionless presence. They were coming back.
I turned round just in time. Immediately, the sky was lit up by flashes and sickly coloured smoke. I could see them all, The Skeleton Crew, standing before me...but this time, in their thousands.
Face upon sunken face, heart upon blackened heart...
They truly were the living dead.
I'll be here wondering
Did you get what you deserve?
The ending of your life
And if you get to heaven
I'll be here waiting, babe,
Did you get what you deserve?
Dead.
I think everyone expects, that when you die, you lose all feeling. Become nothing more than a mere soul. Oh, how wrong these humans can be. I feel more now than they have ever felt when living. This world wasn't made for narrow-minded apathetics, but that's just how it turned out.
When the monitor beeps for what could be the last time, you get the feeling that you're not alone anymore. All my life, I was lonely, beaten, and suicidal. But now there's no time for thoughts like that, because the Doctors are back and the relatives are weeping, waiting for the time when I close my eyes.
But I refuse to. I know that they are coming, and I know they're coming soon. I know I have to stay awake just that little bit longer. I have to.
Everything moulds into slow motion, and I begin to take all that happens around me...
The clock ticks.
The mothers cry.
The Doctors wait.
The Nurses sigh.
The colours flash.
The darkness faints.
The hearts shatter.
Here come The Saints.
There's a blinding flash, a tremendous shatter, an almighty crash. Screams echo throughout the small hospital room and someone grabs my hand. I feel myself leave the bed, and float, feather-like, upwards. I can't see anything, it's all in complete darkness, but I can sense bodies around me.
Dead!
You heard the news that you're dead.
No one ever had much nice to say
I think I never liked you anyway
Oh take
Me from the hospital bed
Wouldn't it be grand
It ain't exactly what you planned
But wouldn't it be great
If we were dead.
Ah, dead....
I opened my eyes.
I was in the middle of nowhere. There was nothing but dead blades of grass and dying flowers, and corpses of various animals here and there and...
Everything was dead.
It was like the grim reapers dream land. Carcasses were burning in a heap in the distance, and blank pages were fluttering around in the soft breeze.
That's when I noticed I wasn't alone.
Turning around, I saw them. They were not at all what I had expected.
Hundreds of them. Hundreds. Skeletons. They were not real people, they were bones dressed in drag. Drag - ripped, shredded rags, that looked so wrong in every way possible.
They were all staring at me with the same crazed look in their eyes. Those eyes....if I could call them that. They were basically blank sockets, with tiny black pinpricks in the centre of each.
I moved backwards slightly, and immediately they stepped forward. I froze, then looked behind me. No one was there. I took another step back, and they moved forward. I took another step, then another. Every time I moved back, they moved forwards.
I stopped. I stared at their gruesome frames and opened my mouth.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
In an instant, one of them, who looked like the leader, stepped forward. He grabbed me by the scuff of my hospital gown and made me stare into his almost-empty eyes. I noticed that the black pinpricks were not pupils. They were letters.
Three letters - TSC. I broke away from him and felt my hands start to shake. He stepped back into the throng of walking corpses and glared at me.
"Who - wh-what, what does it stand for?" I said in hushed tones, stumbling over my words.
The leader, the one who had grabbed me, stepped forward once again. This time, he did not touch me. He lifted up the rags that were covering his visible ribcage and each and every one of the skeleton-like figures standing behind him did the same. I stared at them and felt my stomach lurch.
Clearly visible through the bone-bars that made up their ribs, was a heart. A heart, a human heart...but it was black. The letters TSC were carved into the flesh and the area around 'TSC' was raw and painful-looking.
"We are," he breathed, covering up the horrific excuse for a heart, "The Skeleton Crew."
I knew it then. I realised, right at that moment - they weren't The Saints. They weren't who I thought they were, they were not the ones who were looking for me.
They were frauds.
I turned on the spot and ran as fast as my feeble legs would take me.
I jumped over fires and dodged between bodies. I leapt over bleeding rivers and stumbled over burning corpses. I ran for my life.
I ran for my death.
And in my honest observation
During this operation
Found a complication in your heart
So long
'Cause now you've got
Maybe just two weeks to live
Is that the most the both of you can give!?
* * *
The Skeleton Crew hadn't followed me. I heard them laugh as I ran away from them, but still, they didn't follow.
I was confused, scared, lost...It was dark now, and there wasn't a single star in the sky.
I was constantly tripping over bodies. The overwhelming stench of death was strong in the polluted air but I carried on for the sake of it. I knew there was no going back now. And as for the death...well, I wasn't far from it myself.
The ground I was walking on became steadier, softer, smoother. I looked around. I could here a distant thumping...over and over again.
It was like the sound of a thousand feet marching towards me. I knew, however, that this wasn't possible.
Not possible...or not probable? There was a large difference between these two phrases. People often got confused between them.
The marching was getting closer...so close I could hear their laughs, smell their raw death, feel their emotionless presence. They were coming back.
I turned round just in time. Immediately, the sky was lit up by flashes and sickly coloured smoke. I could see them all, The Skeleton Crew, standing before me...but this time, in their thousands.
Face upon sunken face, heart upon blackened heart...
They truly were the living dead.
