They'll Never Take My Heart

I didn’t know where I was. It was dark, but I could see. Let’s not forget that before the fires I was a fan of My Chemical Romance, and because of that, I knew what the black parade was. What was weird is that that’s where I thought I ended up. All with a guy in uniform holding my hand in an iron grip and leading me around. It wasn’t any of the guys, and he smelled heavily of roses.
“Where the hell am I?” I whispered. This place was quiet. Not silent, but quiet enough that I didn’t want to ruin it.
“We’re waiting for the Black Parade to come through. It would be rude of me to let a young girl see herself off in this place.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not dead!” And there it goes… my voice echoed through the darkness. It was beginning to all turn varying shades of gray.
“Not yet, my dear, but with time comes the end of all living things. And your time is now.” I fought against his hold on my hand but this guy was strong...
“What are you talking about!? I’m not going to die now!”
“You do not get to decide.” Soldier man replied.
“Well then who does? I want to speak with them right now. Adrenaline doesn’t want to die!”
“It is MY job.” Said a voice from behind. He looked a bit like Brendon Urie, but less Panic!-y, and more…. Dead.
“Well I don’t want to die yet. Isn’t there anything I can do to make myself not die?” I pleaded
Wait a second… that guy is looking more and more like Brendon Urie- and soldier man is turning into woman..? The hell?
“You’re dreaming, kid. I can’t let you wake up yet, though. You have to help me prove that she’s my murderer.” Oh my sweet French toast… This is turning into a music video… The black parade atmosphere dissolved until I was left in a house filled with people. The soldier turned woman was wandering about, and I was swept into a flurry of silent conversations. Where was Brendon? The woman opened and shut the windows, and covered up the mirrors already, shouldn’t he be-
‘Oh.’ I thought as I saw the body. His ghost was frantically trying to get someone to notice him. Smiling, he turned to me and simply said “Mona Lisa.” Shrugging, I pulled out the piece of paper, revealed that ‘Mary’ did it, just hoping to get on with this dream and wake up again. I must’ve really been pretty deep within myself at that point. I hadn’t listened to Panic! At the Disco in what felt like centuries.
“Hey, Mister?” I asked. “How do I get myself to wake up?”
“I’m actually not sure…” He replied. Well isn’t that just wonderful. The scenery began to morph back into the black parade.
“This wasn’t in the script,” he muttered. Oh God… am I actually…?
“I don’t wanna die, don’t let me die,” The parade was getting closer and I was terrified. This wasn’t dreaming. This was actually happening.
“Not a young boy! My father never took me to the city to see a marching band! Shoo! I’ll be back in about 70 years, hopefully! Shoo!” I shouted, willing the parade to leave me alone.It was almost like being locked inside your own body, I guess. I wanted to wake up, to show them that I wasn’t dead yet, but here I was running from a parade. Hands grabbed me and picked me up onto the float and for a second, I thought I was done for, for good. Until of course mister Panic! At the disco came back, looking more dead than before, and shoved me off. It was a headfirst collision with the ground, and I finally woke up in a cold sweat. Almost dying does that to you, I guess. I was back in my room, my neck and stomach wrapped in gauze, my wrists wrapped in ace bandages. I felt like a mummy. Swinging my legs over the edge I hesitantly put my bare feet down. The cold floor was a relief to my still-shaken form. I wandered out into the main room to find no one was there. The dark sky alerted me as to why. They would’ve all been sleeping by now.