Life is Like One Giant Parade (MCR)

(1) We Never Got That Far

I feel colder right now; a chill spreading across my shoulders and down my spine. I wrapped my thin arms around myself, desperately trying to stop the shivering. Someone must've joined the crowd. I'd begun to realize that's what happens; a person dies, crosses over into our world, and first sees the parade. It's bloody freezing, though.

I am sure that that doesn't say much, because it is always cold. I had thought there were other realms besides the parade, but someone is always dying and it's always a chill. I guess that is just how it is.

But everyone eventually gets used to the chill, because when you're in the parade, you can't feel anything. Nothing at all; your senses are completely gone. You slowly lose control of yourself, like an addict in their beginning stages, and then you forget everything.

I had been in the parade, but not long enough to lose myself. I couldn't remember my life when I'd first touched that float.

I got it back though, when I escaped, but now I've started to lose it once more. Slower, this time, but I know it's happening. I just wish I could stop it.

I had always wondered who I was. I wondered if I was something special since I had survived. But I have no knowledge of this place, this creation of hell, other than what I've learned since I arrived. And that barely helps.

I walk around for hours a day. It is really the only thing I can do to keep myself somewhat busy. The most important thing I've realized is that if you don't keep moving, they'll find you.

And when the parade finds you, you're forced to stay with them forever. All you'll be is a clone.

Dressed in black.

Here, everyone wears black.

It doesn't matter what you were before. When you come to this world, it turns greyscale. The same for your appearance; auburn locks become black and blond turns white. But the worst part is your skin.

Humans with individuality all become shades of grey. When I somehow broke free, I learned the true horror of this life.

This particular day took me to the edge of the Black Parade's territory. It brought me to the edge of the jagged, grey cliffs that make our 'home' a secluded island. Below, tendrils of grey fog swirl and writhe through the pit of nothingness.

I'd imagined once that there were some people like me, with a few remnants of their own mind. Then I thought they would probably jump the cliff. But weren't we all already dead?

As I sat on the edge, I played with the frayed, dark ends of my black dress. I swung my feet and tried to ignore the cold nipping playfully at my legs through the rips and tears of my black tights.

I could never figure out exactly how to explain the parade. When someone died, they came here and arrived what they died in, or their favorite clothes. I was blessed with the curse of both.

I wished I had some measure of time, other than how loudly I could hear the parade. I knew they went clockwise, going around the city how hands go around a watch. Judging form the faint singing, I guessed around two o'clock. I sighed.

Even without walking in the parade, forced to go forever as more and more people die and join, there is still nothing here. It feels like hell, and unfortunately, it smells like it to. That is all I have now.

There was always the buildings and whatnot, but those were crumbling down. Other than the parade float and all the dead following it, there are no signs of life. I am sure I am one of the only people here that are still able to talk, think, and remember. Can..can I talk?

"Hi," I whispered. I could barely hear my voice. I tried to clear my throat, and ended up with thick, rasping coughs. It had been so long before I used my voice.

I only had my thoughts and memories, and even those were fading from my mind. I died so long ago; sooner than later, my memory would disappear forever. I'd forget my own life, and eventually, I'd forget how to run from the parade.

"We'll carry on! We'll carry on! And though you're dead and gone believe me, your memory will carry on! Will carry on...."

Stupid asshole with the beautiful voice.

I held my breath as the sounds of the parade come closer. I become tense, perfectly ready to jump up at any second and flee. But they fade away as quickly as they come. I get up anyway. I get closer every day to being spotted, and though I am not sure what will happen if I actually do get caught, I have no desire to ever find out.

It only took one look at that singing man, with his white hair, dark clothes, eyes, and hardened face for me to know that nothing good could come from knowing him. But I was still attracted to his voice and mesmerized by the others.

I walked quickly, making my way to a little section of buildings with shattered windows and busted doors. I carefully climbed through one of the windows, and I lay down on the floor in the back shadows. This just kept getting harder and harder.

I knew I was getting weaker.

I had just arrived not much longer than a few days. I hid behind a building, and watched as a family appeared. The husband and wife were hugging and crying together, while the two young children with them seemed lost, bemused, and heartbroken.

Car crash, I thought. They must've gotten in a wreck. Then the parade made their way over to them and they started walking. I wanted to scream at them to stop. The little girl tried to get on the parade float, but someone pulled her back down.

I felt like a murderer as I sat there and watched them change. I had seen the girl's eyes elongate from fearful and confused to nothing. This was what the parade must do to everyone. It must've been what they did to me.

When I woke up again, it took me forever, or what felt like it, to remember where I was. I had fallen asleep. I had never thought that possible in the parade. I had heard them coming, at least, I thought I had.

No, I did run from them.

I could hear it again; his voice always seemed to be growing too close for comfort. But I was always fascinated with both him and that voice, even if it was my worst nightmare. His song was beautiful, his voice was beautiful. He was beautiful.

I mumbled a curse as I kept looking around for a place to hide. Finally, I was able to duck back into deeper shadows and I watched as they passed. With my back pressed against the wall, I sighed. My chest heaved and I could not keep myself from panting until they were gone.

I stepped forward from the depths of the gloom. The tattered remains of my dress hung. I reached down and tore the strip off, and then dropped it on the floor. Maybe I would find it again someday.

My heart, if I still had one, dropped from me as someone cleared their throat. In my life, I was used to getting attacked or meeting random strangers in alleyways. As I had, naturally, I moved into an attack stance.

"Do not worry, I will not hurt you."

He stepped out of the shadows and my breath was knocked from my body. He was even more beautiful in person. I realized I knew him. Blond hair. Dark clothes. I stepped away from him, even though I wanted to be closer.

I wanted to reach out and touch him.

His eyes were dark, black as ebony, and he looked more menacing than ever before. But it was in a shockingly quiet voice that he asked, "Who are you, my child? Why are you not in the parade?"

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Nik, you get dedication for best freaking friend in the world, and one of my best readers. I love you, thanks :)