Welcome to the Black Parade

Disenchanted

The young men and women on the stage shot each other panicked looks, eyes widening as their pale faces grew even paler.

Gee smirked, raising his right hand about a foot from his head, elbow bent at a perfect right angle. "Any last words, before you're able to start a new life?"

All at the same time, as if planned ahead of time, everyone on the stage whispered, "I'm sorry."

Gee snapped his leather-clothed finger tips, as a large light shot across the room, each man and woman slowly fading away, being de-pixelated head-to-toe.

Some of them tried to run off the stage and hide in the crowd, but they just de-materialized even faster. "He cant do this..." I whispered to paxton, over the gasps circulating through the crowd. "How is he allowed to do this?"

Gee cackled as the light flickered repeatedly for several split seconds, each time revealing skull face paint, showing him off more devious than the last. "It's because he's of high authority, and power like that of what he has makes you go... crazy." Paxton replied, wearily.

At the last moment, the last hand of the last body on the stage reached out towards the crowd, searching for help.

"Now!" Gee laughed, clapping his hands slowly as he walked up on to the now, empty stage. "Wasn't that a spectacle? I surely enjoyed it. And if all goes well, or not-so-well, as tragedy is in the eye of the beholder, we should, in the next few years or so, have some old, or new, depending on how you look at it, marchers to collect and march with! Fun, isn't it?" He smiled, releasing his hands from their grasp on each other.

The crowd was silent.

"What? Are you all still in sheer awe of my performance here? I don't blame you..." Gee flicked dust off his shoulder. "Tough crowd," he laughed, "whatsoever your opinion of this magnificent event in parade history, the past is the past and you cannot change my ways. Head back to your tents, all of you."

Whispers erupted from the throng. The whispers grew into chatter which grew into speech which grew into yelling across the complex.

Paxton and I left the tent, and the sky was dark. Very, very dark, for this time of day.

"It can't possibly be dusk already, we just woke up, like, twenty minutes ago!" I cried in frustration.

Paxton rolled her eyes, playfully. "In case you haven't already noticed, this place has about three or four suns, none of which are ever on schedule, making some days longer than others, and others far shorter." She laughed. "Half the people here practice black magic and you're questioning the time of day. You're funny, She."

I smiled lightly, and trotted off to our tent, about 50 feet in front of Paxton who walked sluggishly the whole way.

The clock inside read 11:54.

The clocks here seem to adjust themselves, huh.

I picked the envelope off the floor.

11:55.

I slid my finger across the wax holding the letter in place.

11:56.

Paxton burst through the tent flaps, placing her hair in a loose ponytail and removing her corset, hoops, etc., mentioning something about how she hasn't gotten this comfy in a while.

11:57.

I listened to the rain just beginning to pitter-patter on our tent roof, making the walls bounce.

11:58.

The clock ticked rythmically to the sound of the violent raindrops.

11:59.

The clock rattled, jumping off the table and shaking on the ground for a few moments.

12:00.

Time to open the letter.