We Are the Kids From Yesterday

You Only Hear the Music When Your Heart Begins to Break

It was the screams that woke him up. The horrible ear-splitting screams, waking a thirteen-year-old Gerard from his sleep, probably at around 4 am. The day had been rather normal so that's what everyone assumed that's how the night would go too. But it wasn't, in fact, it was horribly abnormal. Who expects agonized screams at 4 am? Gerard looked over at his little brother's bed across the room from his where Mikey had also shot up, with his eyes full of panic rather than confusion. But they both seemed to have thought the same thing because the moment they both made eye contact, the brothers got out of bed and sprinted to their parent's room.

And that's where the horror truly was.

Gerard stopped dead in his tracks as he reached the entrance to the room where he saw his parents all right. But they were dead. Their bodies were bloody and mauled, obviously killed brutally. He stopped Mikey before he could reach the room, hoping to spare his little brother, only 10 from any trauma this would obviously cause. But it didn't work, Mikey managed to push through him.

"No-no, I don't want you to see this!" Gerard said as he grabbed his brother's arm as he took a few steps into the room before freezing. His hands went to his face and he looked back at Gerard for a second, his mouth had dropped open and tears welled in his eyes.

"Wha-what happened?" Mikey said, stepping back towards his older brother. But that was short lived because he then quickly ran to the bodies, stopping at his mother's and trying his hardest to get her to open her eyes. "Mom? Mom, wake up. Mom, wake up!!" Now he was sobbing and blood had dirtied his hands from his mother's fresh cuts, seeping the sticky red substance.

"Mikey--" Gerard said, not knowing what to say to comfort the little boy. But right after he had opened his mouth, Mikey came running up to Gerard, hugging him close as he cried. Gerard rubbed his back and hair a look of anger and vengeance on his face. Whoever did this? Oh, they'd pay alright. He would make them.

TEN YEARS LATER

The fire burned bright orange, a bit blue at the roots, it being the only of heat when the temperature in the desert that was the cursed Battery City dropped to at least freezing at night. Party Poison sat against a trashcan, warming his hands as he saw his other friends, all falling asleep. They were all members of a well-known gang, The Fabulous Killjoys but they'd gone off for a bit, like they did often. They wanted some adventure without the intense possibility of getting murdered by glancing down the street.

"You guys tired already?" he said, tossing his shoe at his brother, Kobra Kid. "C'mon, so boring! You know, times like these make me wish I chose another group of fugitives to roll with."

"Shut up, Party, it's late, we get it, we're losers," another one of the killjoys, Jet-Star piped in, already half asleep.

Groaning loudly, Party stood up and started trying to get the boys up and moving. "You guys, get up! In this world, who knows how long until we get shot? We can party all day and all night, do whatever it is we can do, and drink all the coffee we want." A small smile edged onto Kobra's face and Party knew he had gotten him. The two had a bit of shared coffee addiction and they'd always take any chance to grab a cup. But the smile was very, very subtle as Party was sure Kobra hadn't smiled since he was ten years old.

"See? You guys are getting into it," Party said, gripping Kobra's shoulder. "Hey, stop your snoring," he added, knocking his foot lightly into the last of the killjoys with them now, Fun Ghoul, probably his closest friend, besides Kobra.

"Leave me alone," Ghoul murmured, turning around and tossing the backpack he had been using as a pillow at Party.

So Party kneeled down next to him and said, "If we're gonna die, you might as well get a few more tats. Who's gonna stop you?"