Letters from the Grave Stone

END OF PART TWO

Gerard died on a warm Californian afternoon on October 3rd.

At his funeral, we looped Helena, Sharpest Lives, Welcome to the Black Parade and Fake Your Death.

Since Gerard was really dead, we only had a small group.

We put his ashes in a box that had the names of all his favorite songs.

We took his ashes to the bar my mom owned, closed up shop, and partied hard.

I was smoking, too.

Marisa was back from the demon world by then and I filled her in.

"Philippa, are you high?"

"No, just a little stoned." I smirked and everything went black.

I hugged his ashes close at night, locked my door and only opened it when the pizza delivery guy came.

My Gerard was dead

My life was over

I was ready to die

Then the first letter came in the mail.