Keep the Faith

The rays of pale moonlight touching base with the horizon only exemplified the amount of beauty the dead could experience. The parade marched on, row after row of costumed performers and followers strolling behind a float of questionable taste. The skull decorating the front and the black uniforms adorning the band that stood upon the confetti covered floor gave off an aura of the Grim Reaper – of Death itself.

Hear the sound,
The angels come screaming.
Down your voice,
I hear you’ve been bleeding.

Gabriel had long since gone on his personal journey through the valleys of fatality, his companions being Fear and Regret. The Black Parade remained on their float, statures filled to the brim with authority and heroism. And I continued to sit on the edge of the machine carrying the five men and me down the never-ending road. Nothing had really changed in the seven months following my becoming a Savior of the Broken; it seemed to be a monotonous experience. New members would appear before us, one of the members of the band or I would place a medal around their neck, and we or the twins would accompany them in death.

It was like a fucking cycle to be completely blunt.

The smell of exhaust from the float’s engine, the whispers of the marchers, and the occasional strum of a stringed instrument or the sharp striking of a drum were things that I fell asleep and awoke to. Instead of stars, falling angels were our roof. They smiled down from Heaven, warming anyone who stole a glance to the celestial sky above, and enchanted those stupid enough to fall for their games. Angels loved to toy with lonely men and women’s emotions – they pictured them as dolls – nothing more than play things to throw around their bedrooms, almost as though the heavenly women were really little girls.

Confetti began to span across the street, showering us with the imitation rainfall I had become accustomed to. Looking up, I smiled as the memories of the first time I had set foot on this very same pavement raced through my mind. I could still feel the chills rushing down my spine and the utter confusion that had been brewing within me from the second I had died.

But I was okay. I was a Savior of the Broken after all. Saviors were always okay, right?

Make your choice,
I hear you’ve been pleading,
‘Someone save us!’

A hand on my shoulder tore me away from my thoughts, and I jolted around to see Gerard, the singer, smirking down at me. Sighing, I gestured for him to sit down next to me and watched him carefully as he did. He was changing – he wasn’t the only one who was, but he was the only person who had changed this much. His figure was becoming increasingly thin with each passing day, his eyes were sinking into his skull, and his smile was halfhearted now. And I could tell that the others were growing scared as well, there really was no hiding it.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he gave a small laugh, “you just looked lonely is all.”

“I’m fine,” I replied and took a deep breath, gathering up my courage to ask him the question that had been playing around in the back of everyone’s heads. “Are you?”

‘Heaven help us now…
Come crashing down!
We’ll hear the sound
As your falling down.’

The moment the words passed my lips I immediately wished they hadn’t. His body tensed and shivered, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance in my direction. His hands gripped the edge of the float, his eyes were wide, and blood had begun trickling down his chin from having bitten his lip too hard.

“W-Why do you ask that?” he stammered. He was attempting to keep his calm composure, but utterly failed.

“Just wondering, is all,” I shrugged, staring upwards towards the falling angels that giggled and smiled as though there was nothing to care about in the world around them. Something so care free and full of wonder reminded me of the mentality of a small child. Was that all that angels were? On the outside they looked beautiful and full of wisdom, but were they really just infants?

“Savior…”

I twisted my neck sharply, pulling away from my thoughts, to see Gerard. His mask was decaying, and I could see a man overflowing with remorse and sadness. Tears were filling his eyes and he was biting his still bleeding lip.

“Savior, I’m-I’m not alright,” he whispered.

I’m at this old hotel
But can’t tell if I’ve been
Breathing or sleeping or screaming
Or waiting for the man to call.

“I’m not alright,” he repeated, “but I have to be.”

I had been correct in my assumption that Saviors felt like they had to be okay. And that in itself was being placed on a pedestal; we were gorgeous statues sculpted by an artist’s hands. Emotions had nothing to do with what persona we gave off. We were leaders, and that was all we could be it seemed.

Had we been given our job merely to fall in the end?

“No you don’t,” I shook my head, “You’re still a human, dead or alive.”

“There was just… so much I wanted to do, and now I can never accomplish any of that…” he muttered, stuck knee deep in his thoughts and remorse.

And maybe all of the above!
’Cause mostly I’ve been sprawled
On these cathedral steps
While spitting out the blood and screaming,
‘Someone save us!’

“Gerard,” I began and he gazed at me with the most dismal look in the world, “how did The Black Parade come to be? How did you die?”

I had been pondering the question for the longest time. The band – to me – had only ever been spirits leading a parade celebrating death. But that was preposterous to even imagine them as having always been deceased. They had once lived, loved, hurt, and breathed just as I had.

The singer’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates and inhaled a bit before sighing. He replied in a murmur, “We were a big band. We were world famous and had finally gotten the respect we hadn’t even thought we deserved. Keep in mind, Savior that we’re from Italy originally, and to be known worldwide back in the 1940’s was pretty damn big. But that night... on the train… we crashed. I don’t even know what happened. It was us and the driver and we died. Just like that. And when I woke up, we were not only The Black Parade, but we were… Saviors... And we knew that we had to help others who didn’t want to pass on. I don’t know how we knew, but we did.”

‘Heaven help us now…
Come crashing down!
We’ll hear the sound
As you’re falling down.’

I stared at him, attempting to keep my internal sputtering from becoming physical manifestations of my disbelief.

He continued speaking. “Mikey and I had just married the loves of our lives. Ray was engaged, Frank was going to have the ceremony for his wedding, and Bob had just courted his love. But now they’re all dead, each with fond memories that had nothing to do with us. We’ll never see them again… We had barely accomplished anything really at the time, though. And now to be looked up to by millions – just thrown into the ring to fight this humongous fighter if you think about it – and if you make one mistake, you crumble to pieces. You really die. There are no second chances when you’re a fucking Savior of the Broken,” he spat bitterly. “You’re no longer a fucking kid where your mommy or daddy holds your hand every step of the way. It’s either you watch your step or you fall into the clutches of those angels or Satan. Both of which aren’t very good circumstances, Savior. Trust me.”

And will you pray for me?
Or make a saint of me?

He was livid now. I could see it in his stance. His fingernails dug into the float even deeper than before, his mouth became a thin line, and his brow was furrowed in frustration. Regaining my sense, I gently placed a hand on his shoulder as he finished with, “I don’t feel like a Savior anymore…”

“You are though,” I countered, “otherwise you wouldn’t have been chosen.”

His shoulders relaxed and he slouched pathetically. “It was a screw-up then.”

“I haven’t forgotten what Regret said back when-when I relived everything. You have it in you to become a Savior from the moment you’re born. So don’t give me any goddamned excuses, Gerard. Doubts and depression didn’t get you here, it was fate and faith.”

And will you lay for me?
Or make a saint of–

He blinked in puzzlement, “Faith?”

I smiled. “Faith in what you’ve been teaching to everyone in this parade. Faith in what you may or may have not known would have an impact on us all. Gerard, we have faith in you. Otherwise we wouldn’t have stayed and we would have chosen to pass on. There was no mistake in you becoming a Savior,” I chuckled, “It was fate and the faith that you and the rest of the band deserve. You fucking emanate it for God’s sake!”

’Cause I’ll give you all the nails you need.
Cover me in gasoline!
Wipe away those tears of blood again.
And the punchline to the joke is asking:
‘Someone save us!’

I patted him on the shoulder and grinned as he stood and looked out towards the horizon. Angels had started to fall again, their wings seemingly on fire as they crashed through the atmosphere like bullets. The night sky was illuminated by hundreds of seraphs. They were fireworks tonight, their auras showing through in obnoxious shades of every color of the rainbow.

‘Heaven help us now…
Come crashing down!
We’ll hear the sound
As you fall.’

A breeze swept around us, merely making Gerard seem more like a super hero than anything else. He smirked when he noticed me watching him and nodded, his arms placed across his chest contently. I stood up and listened to the quiet strumming of stringed instruments and giggling cherubs.

And I knew it now – I had my answer. Saviors could be in pain, they were allowed to. That pedestal had been knocked down, but the statue was still intact.

“Thank you, Savior,” Gerard sighed, the shadow of that glowing smile of his playing upon his lips.

And would you pray for me?
(You don’t know a thing about my sins.
How the misery begins.)
Or make a saint of me?
(You don’t know!
So I’m burning, I’m burning!)

I stole a quick look at him and quickly dipped my head once in understanding. “You’re welcome,” I replied quietly. But in my mind, I was mentally shaking my head in uncertainty and bewilderment.

I could have sworn I had seen a golden halo over his head.

And will you lay for me?
(You don’t know a thing about my sins.
How the misery begins.)
And make a saint of me?
(You don’t know
’Cause I’m burning, I’m burning!)

Stuffing my hands in my jacket pockets, I looked up towards the sky. The moonlight had intensified with the help of the heavenly fireworks. The marchers’ footsteps echoed throughout the street, bouncing off the decaying buildings. The float moved on and the band continued to converse in an undertone.

And a Savior of the Broken, the Beaten, and the Damned stood beside me. He had been saved.

’Cause I’ll give you all the nails you need.
(I’m burning, I’m burning!)
Cover me in gasoline again…