Welcome to the Black Parade

Sleep

I trotted in the darkness to where I had been told Paxton's tent was set up.

Sure enough, a striped tent with a glowing candle light stands before me, Paxton inside.

"Knock-knock," I cheered quietly, pretending to knock on the flimsy tent. "Is Paxton home?"

"She sure is." Replied a tired voice, followed by some ruffling as if she were standing up from her resting-spot. "Aye, She, why are you out so late?" Paxton asked, stretching her right arm over head.

"I was at Fear and Regret's place. They gave me a thing." I tossed the letter to paxton before walking inside.

"Ooh. A thing." Paxton examined the letter, feeling the wax stamp with a gas mask imprint, stroking the silky ink that read 'do not open until the second midnight of your time on the complex', running her thumb along the sharp edges of the envelope. "Oh... damn." Paxton stepped into the tent with me, dropping the envelope on the ground. "The last marcher to get one of these letters, he had been my tent-mate, actually, disappeared the same night he read the letter. He got the letter from Fear and Regret, just like you." Paxton narrated with a sorrowful tone that was masked with courage. "All I remember from the note was something about marching, being stray, control, and... and blood."

My heart sank. I don't want to disappear from disappearance... "But... but what if that isn't it. What if it's something else?" I dropped my head into my hands.

Paxton bent down to pick up the letter, then dropping it next to me on the floor. "I'm going to sleep now, you should too, get your mind off o things." I nodded at her request as she trudged over to her silk couch. "'Night," she sighed, tossing me a pillow.

"Ditto." I replied, placing the pillow under me head.

This is going to be a long night.

Hours.

It's been hours.

I last checked the crooked alarm clock on Paxton's desk at 10:00 PM. It's 2:00 AM now.

What is even wrong? Why can't I rest? And why are the voices in my head telling me the shadows I see are real? It's been four hours alone, in the dark, by myself.

I'm not just scared of what I think I see,

I'm getting these... these tremors. They're not just terrors... they're these... tremors, you see. These static tremors, making my muscles quiver when I need to keep still.

The ticking of the clock echoes throughout the tent, the shadows of marchers taking midnight strolls roll under the seams, the cold dusty wind blows, shaking the fabric walls.

And I am on the floor, my head under a silk pillow, watching everything happen from afar.

Sleep, She, I began to tell myself, you'll be better off if you just shut your eyes and say goodnight. Just sleep. Just sleep. Just sleep. Just... sleep.

In a matter of moments, I somehow hypnotised myself to make everything. Go.Black.