Wandering the Parade

(4) Hardest Part of Living

I walked along the edge of a roof, careful not to stumble and tumble to my death. Funny how that would work out. I was halfway across it, growing far more dare devilish than I should have been half-hanging off a nearly demolished apartment building. I walked farther for a minute or two and then, carefully, did a front handspring. I landed solidly and held my arms in the air, but dropped them when I remembered no one could see me.

Gerard’s POV

He’d come over to visit; I could hear him downstairs but I just wasn’t ready to face them yet. Not even Mikey. I migrated back to my search page dedicated to Carolynne, and scrolled through a few more articles. They weren’t much of anything; the same reports, a mention of her winning an art and writing contest. She had a Facebook page, but it was locked to the public.

 "I'll be sure to remember that you don't say 'hi' anymore." I whipped around, to find him staring at me from the doorway. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just looking up something." I tried to close out the window before he could see it.

He caught my hand and examined the page. "A dead girl? Really, Gerard?"

"I thought I recognized her from somewhere."

He scanned over the remainder of it, and then turned to me with a sigh. "How? She's been dead for years."

"Not dead," I said quickly. "I do know her, Mikes. Trust me on this."

He looked at me again, eyes wide. He groaned and swore. "Gerard, please tell me this is a joke for something I did to you. Please, please, please tell me you're not serious. Because otherwise, you're insane. Or high," he added.

"I'm not either of those, and I'm not joking. I'm completely serious about this."

He sighed again. "Where?"

"You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I already do, so you might as well say it."

"Okay, then. In...in the Parade."

"GERARD ARTHUR WAY–" he started to yell.

I shushed him and ran to lock the door. "Shut up! I have people down there, who never, ever, ever need to know about this. Mikey, don't freak out alright? It's not that big a deal."

"No, of course it isn't. No, it's not a big deal that my brother is insane." He rubs his eyes. "I cannot believe I'm going to say this, but just please tell me you drank or something."

"No, I haven't. I've been clean for years." I folded my arms over my chest, and glared at him. "I would like to think you abandoned that thought when I had a daughter, Michael. Can you just admit that there is a teensy tiny chance that I could be right for once?"

He sat there for minutes, staring. Then he sighed once more. "Fine I-"

"I KNEW IT!" I screamed. "I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT, I KNEW IT! RING THE BELLS, MIKEY ADMITTED I COULD BE RIGHT! IT'S A FRICKING MIRACLE, WE NEED TO DOCUMENT THIS MOMENT!"

He literally hit me over the head, and it was not very light either. "I want to see it for myself, though."

Carolynne’s POV

I sang a song that had been stuck in my head for a long time- probably just another song my brothers blasted too loudly and I happened to hear from the other part of the house.

"Hand in mine, into your icy blues

And then I'd say to you we could take the highway

With this trunk of ammunition too-"

"I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets," someone sang flawlessly. The voice was slightly familiar.

I turned around, and grinned when I saw who it was. "Gerard! You know that song?"

"Yes I do. One of my favorites, actually. You like it?"

"One of my brothers played it; I must've picked it up from them."

"I personally think that music is great. If you don't like it, what do you like?"

"Paramore, The Used, Pencey Prep, Muse, Evanescense, Simple Plan, that sort of thing."

"Ever heard of My Chemical Romance?"

I thought, then shook my head. "No; why?"

"Okay, you are not only a bitch. YOU'RE CRAZY!"

His companion, who I hadn't noticed before, grinned. "You didn't tell her? Let me know when you do; I wanna hear how vainly it comes out."

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he glared. "It's nothing. He's just being a jerk. So, same as he always is. Oh, pardon me. Carolynne- Mikey. Mikey-"

"I remember, Gerard. The one who is dead," Mikey sighed.

"Not dead, apparently," I muttered. "Your friend Gerard is trying to convince me I'm not."

"Actually, he's my brother."

"Well, whoopee-doo; you have one too. Congratulations on having a pain in the ass living in your house."

He looked at Gerard. "And I thought it was only us." He sighed, and I got the feeling he did that often. "Fine, Gerard, you're right."

"YES! HE DID IT AGAIN! OH MY GOSH THIS IS SO UNBELIEVEABLE I'M SO HAPPY I THINK I MIGHT CRY!"

"DUDE, SHUT UP!" Mikey and I yelled at the same. Then we cracked up like idiots.

"Freaks flock together," Gerard mumbled.

"Y'know, I have half a mind to kill you for that. But tell me what you were talking 'bout- with all this being right business. And then I may not shove your ass through a mirror."

"Well," Mikey looked at Gerard, who cracked a grin and nodded. "In real life, like minutes ago. Gerard was looking up something about you, and I walked into the door and saw it. Keep in mind this is the short version. Then he told me he met you in the Parade, and tried to convince me he hasn't been drinking. He asked me if there was a microscopic chance I could be wrong, and you might actually exsist. I did, he screamed, and then we wound up here."

"Sounds interesting," I answered sarcastically. "This place is awful but I nearly died of boredom even listening to that.

Gerard's grin widened. "That's my fricking specialty."

"So, fine; I believed you and the magic happened. Can I go home now?" Mikey asked.

"No," I answered for him. "I'm bored."

"Okay, then. I'm stuck here in what I believed was something from my big brother's imagination, with a girl who's half dead."

"I change my mind; I want you out of here."

He chuckled and began to walk away.

"Take your fucking retardation with you!" Gerard yelled. But when Mikey turned around, the SOB pointed at me.

Mikey gave me the finger.

I stuck out my tongue and shot it back.

"You harass him a lot, don't you?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yes. It's my job. Well, that and my real life stuff."

"Which is..."

"I only tell people I really like. And the Starbucks guys," he smirked. I must've looked confused, because he added, "They give me free coffee."

I laughed. But then I got serious, and quiet. "Gerard?" I asked meekly.

"Yes, Carolynne?"

"Do you think I'll ever get out of here?"

He thought for a long time. "I think you could. Don't give up until you know for sure that there's no way out. Don't give up until you're sure that you'll never see your face again." He pulled me into a quick and awkward hug, and kissed the top of my head.

"Don't make me hit you again."