3- Welcome to the Black Parade

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A/N: Today I got 10th anniversary album!!!

Get on meh level.

Anyway, so in loving memory of 23/9/16, Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Frankie-poo, Bob, and the whole concept of My Chemical Romance, I wrote this!

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Anyway, so in loving memory of 23/9/16, Gerard, Mikey, Ray, Frankie-poo, Bob, and the whole concept of My Chemical Romance, I wrote this!

Also more sassy Gerard because GURL GET ON MEH LEVEL.


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"Everyone is here to see you now, would you like me to bring them in?" The nurse asks, staring blankly at me and my hollow body.

I nod, watching as the nurse steps quickly outside and my whole family steps in. The room suddenly feels warmer, more pleasant as I look over the sad smiling faces. They lean in to look at my frail body, the soft beep of the heart-machine in the distance, almost like a marching beat.

The silence grows louder with every second, making the heart machine's thump sound more like a large drum.

"We're here for you."Says a soft voice from the back of the small crowd. Pushing their way through the people, smiling brightly at me, making me smile as wide as I can, most likely looking more like a wince then anything else. I hold their hand as every one else mumbles in agreement, kneeling and pressing their faces close to the bed to get a good look at me. I bet half of the people in the room just want the show to be over, want to leave and go on with their normal lives. I mean, who wants to see a dying old man in his death bed? Not me.

"Thank you for this." I say finally, closing my eyes letting the sound of the heart machine envelop me. Slowly, the only sound I can hear is the machine, counting the beats of my heart, growing louder and louder with every beep.

"Now son, I know this is hard, but you have to try-" I hear faintly from the distance. I open my eyes, now looking at a completely different scenario, hospital nowhere in sight, no bed, or family around me. Just a long, white tunnel

"I don't want you to go, Daddy. Please don't go!" I hear a sob from a young boys voice. As I walk down the path, I see two silhouettes, a man crouching over a young boy, one of them wearing a black and silver uniform. Suddenly a forest of trees and gravestones wind out of the pale white nothingness, forming a nook to look over at the two figures crouching next to a grave stone.

"Son, I know it will be hard for you, but when you are older, just like me," He says, smiling lightly at his son. "I want you to go and leave your son to help everyone in need, the broken, the beaten and even the damned. Do you think you can do that?" He says, watching for his son's response

"Yes. I want to be just like you when I'm older!" The boy says, putting on the military cap next to him, making himself look more like his father.

"Then son, you'll have to be very brave when you're older. But you also need to have courage now. Do you think you can do that?" He asks again, making the boy's smile fade. 

"But Daddy, Mummy can't look after me anymore, and I don't want to be alone with Mama!" The boy cries, pointing to the crumbled gravestone they are standing on.

"Look son. I love you very very much, and I promise you I will come back, but one day I will leave you for a long time, and you need to learn how to deal with that."

"Where will you go for a long time?" The boy asks, the answer ringing loudly in my ears, before it is said.

"To join the Black Parade." The man smiles widely as he gets up, making sure to dust off his jacket of rubble from crouching in the dirt. The boy clings to his leg and gives him a large hug.

"Will I ever join the Black Parade?" The boy ask's wide eyed, as his father takes the cap off his small head and onto his own. 

"Yes." He says smiling, as he turns to the sound of the drum.

"Wait! To remember us!" The boy chases after his father, carrying a small piece of paper. As the man reads the letter, his eyes well and a large smile forms on his lips. Quickly, he swoops down and gives the boy a brisk hug, and walks away to the beat of the drum in the distance. 

The memory swirls, churns and bubbles, dissolving into oblivion. The only thing left is the beat of the drum. Loud, soft; slow, fast.

You will carry on, it reads, She is always watching over you and me. I love you.


Beeeeeeeeeeeep.

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