Welcome to the Black Parade

Mama

"Why do you have that gas mask on? You look like Mama." Pax giggled softly.
I lifted my hands from their hanging state to feel around my face. "Oh. That. Yeah." I removed the mask gracefully. "No longer a problem, see?"
Paxton rolled her eyes. "Seriously, though. If Mama'd seen you in that, she'dv taken that as a threat."
"What's even up with that mask, though?"
"Dunno, maybe you could ask Fear or Regret. They're her little minions. They'll know." Paxton shrugged, about to walk away.
"Wait! Pax! Where can I find the two?" I jumped up my left arm waving in the air, my right grasping the mask.
"Look for the smoking cariban."
I was confused, but decided to follow instructions. I walked towards the center of the tent complex, hoping to stumble across a smoking cariban like Pax had said.
I walked deep into the maxe of the circus complex, only to find a gypsy cariban with black smoke rising from the roof, covered in burns, blood stains, and other things.
I peered through the cracked window on the cariban's tiny porch. Like the tent I had seen earlier, it was much larger within. On the inside of this cariban was a set of bunks, each flowered with white rose petals, on the left wall. Tattered paintings of fellow marchers hung fettered along the rims of the cariban. A cracked mirror with old-fashioned hair and make up supplise was propped up against the back wall.
Suddenly two girls tumbled out of a door in the back of the cariban, each holding a bottle of Jack Daniels in their left hand, appearing to be drunk.
The two girls laughed, nudging, rolling on top of, and kissing each other every few seconds.
One of them noticed me, then carelessly gallopped towards the door. The woman opened the door slowly.
"What's up with that mask in your hand? Didn't anyone ever tell you to pay respect to Mother?" She croaked, cocking her head to the side.
"Yeah," snorted the other woman. "War zones are her thing, not that of a simple marcher such as yourself!"
I set the gas mask down the floor, then once again locking eye contact with the woman. "That's actually why I came here. Do you know why Mama wears that mask-thingy, and why she's even so important, and why you two were chosen to be her little... minions."
The woman at the door shot a look at the woman in the back of the cariban, waiting for a response from her. They nodded in unision.
"Come in." She instructed.

The three of us settled in the back of the cariban, one of the women and I sat on the floor while the other sat cross-legged on one of the bunks.
"Now, before you tell me anything, may I ask which of you is Fear and which is Regret?"
The woman next to me sighed, "I'm Fear."
The woman on the bunk chimed in, "And I'm Regret, now, shall I continue with your answer? Otherwise, leave."
"No no no no no," I breathed, shaking my hands, "continue."
Fear smiled. "Good. Now, on to Mama. Her son, I believe it was, was a soldier in WWII. His name was Michael, I believe. But yes, at the time, she too was in the war, a doctor. Michael was shot in battle, she was on the boat, but her son was on land. She rushed out to save him but they got gassed. And that mask represents her having breathed in the chlorine, or something like that."
Wow, I heeded, intense.
"And she still wears it now, as the chlorine seeped into her lungs, oxygen became poisonus to her." Regret sighed, leaning back. "Oh, yes, and I believe she wears that large skirt to hide her lower half, she had her legs amputated for whatever reason."
"Oh..." I let my heart sink back into my chest. I thought there would have been more of a tale there. "Well, if you don't mind me asking," I breathed out, "how did you two end up here?"
Fear and Regret laughed. "Foolish little girl, you're just a little chaos-magnet, now aren't you? We gossip, we don't dwell on our own memories. As well, it is such a rude request to ask how someone died when in that someone's presence."
"Sorry, I was iust curious." Hanging my head low, I stood up to leave.
"Chaos-magnet," Regret snorted under her breath.
Fear's eyes shot wide open, and she hopped over to Regret, whispering in her ear. Regret nodded violently.
"Wait, She," Fear stopped me in my tracks. "Take this envelope. Open it at precisely twelve-o-clock tomorrow evening, then, report back to us with your response." Fear instructed, placing a gray, paper envelope in my hands. "Now go, it's getting late. Get some rest."
I pried open the cariban door and shuffled through the ashy grass, just as Mama had been coming back. "Goodnight, Mother War." I said under my breath, as she opened up the cariban door. I think I could her gas-mask lenses glimmer just then.