Chemical Utopia

"I can't do this." Noel said. She tossed her guitar pick to the floor and leaned over her guitar, staring at her shoes. It was always a difficult time of the day, practicing her guitar. She shut her eyes tighty and went over the cords in her head. She picked up her pick and tried it again. Her fingers were tangled together and she threw the pick again, sighing in frustrationi, glaring at her dark red guitar. A knock on the door came then, calming her a bit.

"Noel, it's Shaden, may I come in?" Her brother, a thirteen and a notorious musician and artist, said from the opposite side of her red door.

"Yes you may, Shaden." She replied, as according to the rules; if one was going into another's room, they needed to knock and say who it was, and whoever inside would have to have a good reason to say they were not allowed in. Shaden walked into Noel'sroom casualy, leaving the door ajar, and sitting next to her.

"What's gone wrong, Noel? Still can't play a simple hymn?"

"Shaden..." She began, warning him that she was getting frustrated. Shaden smirked at his older sister. "I still can't play 'Helena', and it's my favorite hymn. It's so...you do not care, do you?"

Shaden looked up, smirking again. "Personally? I'm a bigger fan of 'Dead.' Sorry, can't help ya there." Shaden stood and wlaked out of her room. Noel sighed again, putting her guitar aside and following in his direction.

"Who would like to begin this evening's ceramony?" Mrs. Warre asked that evening around the dinner table. The silbings looked at each other, then to their father. Officer Warre sighed and began the ceramony. The eveing ceramony began and ended at the table for the evening meal, and consisted of each member of the family unit to tell about their day and how they felt. A similar ceramony began every moring around breakfast but was meant to talk about the dreams each member had dreamt.

"The art class went very smoothly...there's a very talented female in my classed. They call her Reba, and she's a fifteen, like Noel. If only Noel had been in my art class...but, she's too good. I think Reba is moving to the Sunday art class though. If you meet her, Noel, tell her I wish her the best of luck."

"You can count on it, Dad." Noel replied.

"Yes, how did your practice go today, Noel?" Mrs. Warre asked. Noel sighed again.

"Badly...I can't even play 'Helena'. "

"Don't worry, Noel...maybe you should try another hymn? Maybe if we contact the chief elder, he will let you switch to piano. Perhaps he would teach you himself!" Officer Warre said on a very positive note. Noel smiled at him in gratitude.

"My way was veyr wonderful. I've officially mastered 'Head First For Halos' and 'Desert Song.' " Shaden stated proudly. His mother smiled in satisfaction.

"Of course you did, Shaden; you can do anything you want to." Noel said. "I'm sorry...it's only true."

"Apoligy accepted." Shaden relplied coldly. "How was your day, Mom?"

"Wonderful as well." Mrs. Warre began. "Father says that there will be a celebration tomorrow after the mass, and that we should all go and bid the fellow goodluck on his journey. The chief elder said he will have all activities postponed until after the celebration. Father also said he would like Shaden to join the choir; isn't that wonderful?"

"Oh, yes!" Shaden exclaimed excititly. "I would love to join those choir boys! Did he say what hymns we would sing?"

"He did not," Mrs. Warre began, "he said that tomorrow he would go over the hymns, but it's mostly hymns we all know."

"Do you know the fellow whom we're celebrating?" Officer Warre asked his wife.

"No, we do not...not personally. Noel's friends, Tash and Gash, the twins? It's their grandfathe-"

"Oh no." Noel said grimmly. "Where's Grandma, anyway?"

"She's asleep." Officer Warre told his now worried daughter. "She said she felt sleepy and she took her dinner early. Don't worry, she is fine." Another rule in the community; respect of the elders, and usually the grandparents lived with the family unit. It was considered a great honor, grandparents living with the family unit.

"I feel so bad for Tash." Noel stated. "She loved her grandfather. Gash wasn't very close with him...but he did love him...I feel so horrible. I think I'll make them symphany cards now. May I be excussed to do so?"

"Go right ahead, Noel." Mrs. Warre said. Noel stood and walked back to her room, closing the door silently.

Tash and Gash were twins, one male, and one female, both fifteens. Noel was very close to the twins, along with her other friends, all fifteens. She was not familiare with Reba, the girl her father had mentioned, but she could spot her in a crowd. She sat on the floor and began to make her cards, one for each of her mourning friends. It was another rule. If you knew the person who's relative was leaving to join the Parade or the MCRmy, you must make a card of symphany for them. Though joining the Parade was a very joyous time for the new member, it was a hard time for their friends and family. As for the MCRmy, it was risky bussiness. The MCRmy fought for all that was right and good; everything that Gerard and the Angels and Saints died for. Noel had a frammed picture of Gerard and the Saints on her burrow;

Saint Frank, Patron Saint of the Sick or Dying. Saint Frank's story was a tremendous one. When Saint Frank was a boy, he was often sick, often suffering from one infection or another. He often overcame what was aleing him, being the fighter that he was. But on one fateful evening, he had been shot and killed, protecting others. He was visiting a friend in the hospital, who had been beaten for his sexuality. Some say that when Saint Frank had visited him that night, his friend had bene cured. His friend's attacker found this out, and beat Saint Frank on his way home, and then shot him to death.

Saint Ray, Patron Saint of the Struggler. Saint Ray was a very hard worker, devoting all or most of his time to his work and his studies, always being to engrossed in his work he did not have much time for anything else. Of course, it ended up leading to his death. Saint Ray was trying to edit a hymn on a computer, an electronic devise that had now been banned, along with all other machanical devises, during a lightening storm. Lightening struck the wires outside that hooked up to his computer, and he had been fried. The hymn was never completed, and the only bit that the members of the community have learned is usually sung on extreamly sad occasions.

Saint Mikey, Patron Saint of the Underdog. Mikey had always been classified the shy and quiet one, for the glasses he once wore and being the younger sibling to Gerard. He fought strongle for what he believed, and tried to seem tougher then others thought of the sweet-natured saint. Saint Mikey joined the army, a normal army from so long ago; back, and back, and back. He joined to fight for what he believed was right, and to prove to his friends and brother that he could handle himself. Saint Mikey died in battle, trying to prove himself.

Saint Bob, Patron Saint of the Fighter. Saint Bob was the toughest-looking, but also very shy. He was not one for having his memory saved in any way but in one's mind. He was also often found injured, but always found a way to be healed. One evening, in the hospital with a concosion, he slipped into a coma, and not even Saint Frank to heal him. In a desprate attempt to wake him, Saint Mikey grabbed a cake a threw it on the unconcious Saint Bob. The doctors took his off life suppirt that night, and Saint Mikey joined the army the next day.

Gerard was a known healer and fighter; struggler and underdog himself. He fought for what was right until he was diagnoses with cancer himself. Then he fought harder. All his friends, the Saints, had then since passed onto the Black Parade, leaving him alone to fight for their memory. He prayed to his late friends for strength to carry on every evening, as the members of the community did today. He created the MCRmy in memory of his late brother, and he lead the MCRmy up until the day he died; the day they won World War III. It was his greatest victory, and even though he lost his battle with cancer, he had won the war against everything that Bert stood for. Bert and his evility.

Noel looked down at her well-done sympathy cards. Her handwriting was perfect, and her drawings were even more perfect. "Not to bad, Noel Warre." She said to herself. She put her cards away until the following morning, and got changed for bed, looking at the framed picture again before shutting her eyes and falling alseep.