Jacob Black dies...and he goes to the Black Parade!
What is the Black Parade? (my version)
“Are you guys ready? It’s sleep time. You have performances for the rest of the week.” Brian Shechter, our devout tour manager, rapped on our door. We all groaned. The tour bus was so small it wasn’t funny, and we all slept in the same room, on bunks.
I hated sleeping. We all did. It’s not like we’re going all emo and all, it’s just that, when we, My Chemical Romance, go to sleep, we wake up as The Black Parade. In the City of the Dead.
It’s pretty annoying. I get to practise my singing by welcoming those dead people to The Black Parade, that’s one of little positives.
But it gets kind of depressing when you see blown up bits of people from Iraq floating in the air, or bloated, drowned bodies dragging themselves along the ground. The dead come in the last physical shape they had on earth while they were still alive. Drugs and alcohol don’t lessen the emotional effect. Trust me. I tried.
The City Of The Dead is a home for those who have done nothing in their lives. The amount of evil that they have done equals to the amount of good they did. It’s hard to explain.
It’s not our fault. This job just started for us. The people had had this job before us were Green Day. Surprise! We have no idea who had it before them.
They sang American Idiot.
Imagine scales, with two sides. Good and Evil. There are 3 scales altogether, but the one I’m talking about is the Scale of Earth. But if there are more living people who don’t become either, then they weigh down the scales, and it is harder to push the world in the direction of light or dark. So they have to be put somewhere else when they die. And not to Heaven or Hell. Not yet!
The City is the 2nd scale. Made up of the leaders, that’s us, and the paraders, other dead people. The dead people are waiting to be judged into heaven or hell.
So it’s basically purgatory.
There is a particular dress code in the City, so they all wear black clothes. We wear black military uniforms, and in all modesty, we do look pretty cool. Very similar to the ones we wear in real life.
The 3rd scale is Heaven and Hell.
No relationships with the members are allowed in the City. They move along soon enough.
And all the characters who appeared in our music video ‘Welcome to The Black Parade’ eg. Mother War, Fear, Regret. They do exist. And they look similar.
I was whipped because I showed Earth that we existed. Even though I protested that no one had believed us, they had hit me anyway. I don’t know what they used to hit me, but it hurt so bad that I woke up in real life. The back of my uniform was red for a week. All injuries sustained in there appear on our real life bodies as well, so I always cover my back. Why else would I not swim?
If anyone of us get knocked out, or injured badly, we automatically revert to real life. It’s like a safety exit. And if our mortal bodies are injured, then our souls are forced to go back. If both our souls and body dies, then we don't go anywhere. We don't exist.
“Ok guys. See ya in the other side. Let’s have fun.” I said sarcastically. We all laid down in our bunks, and closed our eyes. I readied myself mentally for the night’s work of singing. And telling people that they were dead.
I hated sleeping. We all did. It’s not like we’re going all emo and all, it’s just that, when we, My Chemical Romance, go to sleep, we wake up as The Black Parade. In the City of the Dead.
It’s pretty annoying. I get to practise my singing by welcoming those dead people to The Black Parade, that’s one of little positives.
But it gets kind of depressing when you see blown up bits of people from Iraq floating in the air, or bloated, drowned bodies dragging themselves along the ground. The dead come in the last physical shape they had on earth while they were still alive. Drugs and alcohol don’t lessen the emotional effect. Trust me. I tried.
The City Of The Dead is a home for those who have done nothing in their lives. The amount of evil that they have done equals to the amount of good they did. It’s hard to explain.
It’s not our fault. This job just started for us. The people had had this job before us were Green Day. Surprise! We have no idea who had it before them.
They sang American Idiot.
Imagine scales, with two sides. Good and Evil. There are 3 scales altogether, but the one I’m talking about is the Scale of Earth. But if there are more living people who don’t become either, then they weigh down the scales, and it is harder to push the world in the direction of light or dark. So they have to be put somewhere else when they die. And not to Heaven or Hell. Not yet!
The City is the 2nd scale. Made up of the leaders, that’s us, and the paraders, other dead people. The dead people are waiting to be judged into heaven or hell.
So it’s basically purgatory.
There is a particular dress code in the City, so they all wear black clothes. We wear black military uniforms, and in all modesty, we do look pretty cool. Very similar to the ones we wear in real life.
The 3rd scale is Heaven and Hell.
No relationships with the members are allowed in the City. They move along soon enough.
And all the characters who appeared in our music video ‘Welcome to The Black Parade’ eg. Mother War, Fear, Regret. They do exist. And they look similar.
I was whipped because I showed Earth that we existed. Even though I protested that no one had believed us, they had hit me anyway. I don’t know what they used to hit me, but it hurt so bad that I woke up in real life. The back of my uniform was red for a week. All injuries sustained in there appear on our real life bodies as well, so I always cover my back. Why else would I not swim?
If anyone of us get knocked out, or injured badly, we automatically revert to real life. It’s like a safety exit. And if our mortal bodies are injured, then our souls are forced to go back. If both our souls and body dies, then we don't go anywhere. We don't exist.
“Ok guys. See ya in the other side. Let’s have fun.” I said sarcastically. We all laid down in our bunks, and closed our eyes. I readied myself mentally for the night’s work of singing. And telling people that they were dead.