Jacob Black dies...and he goes to the Black Parade!

I still remember that night, the absolute agony of having an invisible deity carve a drawing onto your hand with a knife made out of black fire. The sensation of being strapped down, hand held over a stationary bowl to catch the dripping blood. And you’re not allowed to help it heal, so it must be left to the open. I think it took about...13 hours to complete, so realistically the night and the next day. Mikey, Ray, Bob and Frank were only allowed to look on, but not help. As I had writhed in agony on the table, fighting the straps, if they had been made out of leather, that they would have snapped a long time ago, I had begged them to kill me. The expression on everyone’s face, Mikey’s particularly was heart-breaking, and I wanted to stop.

I wanted it to all end.

But I couldn’t.

I had managed to make it. Obviously.

“Do you want to see anyone’s particular destination?” I held my left index finger over the 3 books.

“My father, Billy Black.” He confirmed. I nodded, and quickly jabbed down on the ‘Hell’ book. I mentally flipped the pages, but found no Billy Black.

“Nope. Not Hell, not here. So he must be in heaven.” I told Jacob. His face split into a relieved smile.

“Knew he wasn’t gonna go to Hell.” He triumphantly said. We waited for his tirade of happiness to come to an end.

“We gotta continue with our songs Jacob. The next song is ‘This Is How I Disappear’. I’m sorry, but to ensure your full grip on death, we have to use some memories of yours to create a...test room, I suppose. All inside your head.”

He pouted playfully. “Will it hurt?”

I grimaced. “Emotionally, likely. But physically, no.”

“Ok. Let’s do it!” He prepped himself mentally, mumbling some words to himself under his breath.

I nodded, and shut my eyes. I imagined gloominess, and I sensed Bob with his hands ready to strike. I twitched my right hand, the usual signal, and Bob rained anger onto his drum kit, beating with his plain wooden sticks so hard that looked like they were on the point of self-combustion.

The guitars roared in, and I closed my eyes. Jacob’s memories were only his and I to see.

As soon as those guitars blasted their way into my ears, I felt myself have a very strong longing to shut my eyes. I did.

To unexplain the unforgivable, drain all the blood, and give the kids a show,
By streetlight this dark night, a séance down below, there’s things that I have done, should never, could ever know!

Gerard’s rough, sweet voice punched in, and memories exploded in my mind, forcing their way into my line of thought, and painted themselves on the back of my eyelids. I visibly cringed at the sudden explosion, and I could sense The Black Parade leaders anxiously looking at each other.

Suddenly, my memory started to pick out mistakes I had done in my life. Stills flashed through my head. The first day I met Bella. When I attempted to kiss her, earning myself a failed punch in the face. Watching her and Edward getting married. Their child.

Who walks among the famous living dead? Drowns all the boys and girls inside their beds, and if you could talk to me, tell me if it’s so, that all the good girls go, to heaven, well heaven knows.

Then the topic switched dramatically from the love triangle of Bella, Edward and I, to just myself.

My dad dying, me not being able to save him. Failing my kin in fighting. Failing everyone.
Renesmee. Me protecting her from a speeding car with a drunken driver. Saving her from a building collapse. Marrying her, with Bella’s and Edward’s blessings.

Her running away, because I would not kill a vampire for her out-of-control bloodlust.

Abandoning me, leaving me to wallow in my grief.

And, without you, it’s how I disappear, and live my life alone, forever now. And without you, it’s how I disappear, and live my life alone, forever, forever now...

Gerard’s voice softened into a whisper, and then into silence. The guitars sank into nothing.
I just realised that tears were slowly trailing a path of sadness down my cheeks from under my eyelids, and I quickly wiped them away embarrassedly.

“Is it okay if I open my eyes?” I had unconsciously taken off my mask, and hurriedly out it back on.

“Yes.” Gerard’s voice, alarmingly cold, cut in.

I opened my eyes, and quickly wiped one more time to check that no traces of tears were still there.

“She deserves to rot in hell.” Gerard growled, his face twisted in anger, but keeping the volume to conversation level.

Oh. He must have seen what I had. Shit.

I changed the subject.

“What’s next? The Sharpest Lives?” I readied myself for what was next; Another 3 minutes of mental agony.

“No, We have to leave a gap. 13 days it will take to sing all our songs. It’s been 3.”

“Already?!” That was very quick.

“Yes.” Suddenly Gerard swayed where he stood. “I think that someone’s attempting to wake me u-“

He collapsed. Mikey, Ray, Bob and Frank just stood there, looking awkward.

“Why aren’t we waking up?” Mikey whispered to Bob.

Bob replied, “Someone’s waking Gerard up specifically.”

“When are we waki—We’re waking up!” Mikey shouted, then suddenly tipped over onto his back, eyes closed. I had a sudden urge to laugh.

“You know the drill Jacob. Go to sleep!” Bob directed this statement at me, before epically

falling backward. Off the float.

I burst out into laughter, racking my body, and I bent over, clutching my ribs.

I knew that Frank and Ray were laughing their heads off, judging from the hyena noise and deep chuckles that I assumed were their slightly creepy laughs. They were cut off as they woke up as well.

Realising that I was laughing by myself, I stopped and sighed, before I began to slowly
trudge towards my sleeping quarters.