Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Warpaint
Chapter one
The year was 2050, and the world had turned to shit. Grandma once told me that the sky used to be blue, the grass green, the rivers clean. I think that was her dementia talking. The clouds were a blotchy, diseased puce; the sky itself had Lepracy. There was no grass, just miles of concrete urban nothing. I know only one river, and it sure as hell wasn't clean. The water was a brown sludge, like a curry left on the heat too long. Shopping trollies and footballs lay in the midst, left due to fear of contracting a disease from the foul thing. And in the city, the place of famine, ruin and despair, lived an evil. It lives in every human; in every man, woman and child. In every rat, pigeon and rabid dog. Accountants, lawyers and students, it lives in us all. It is called selfishness. It's a primal instinct that kicks in, a part of our survival. It's the only way to keep on keeping on in this world. And why is that? The government, that's why.
I remember reading the government's manifesto before the election. It said "you can count on us to bring the city to life. The people deserve a beautiful city, and it is our job to serve the people." Sometime after the election, I went back to read the the manifesto again, just to count how many promises they had broken. But when I came to open the manifesto, I found the 17 pages had been replaced by one. Typed in size 14 font, in the middle of the page were the words "Ha. You're fucked now." I feel this pretty much summarises the state we're in.
It was soon after that the government started making their 'changes'. The clothes were the first to go, to make way for a cleaner, normalized city. Conformity makes us easier to deal with. Everyone was issues grey clothes. The world was one giant concentration camp. Then it was the education. They couldn't give us the knowledge we'd need to fight back, that would be so counter-productive. Then it was the music. It all started when people started playing Rage Against The Machine's 'Take The Power Back' out of their windows. They could take everything away, but not the music... or so we thought. On December 4th, 2047, the world was set ablaze. Every copy of every Cd, vinyl or mp3 was burnt. Ipods smashed and recording studios ransacked. The people began to think all hope was lost.
That's when my band and I finally snapped. Don't get me wrong, people had fought back before, but they were never seen again. They had places they could take you. It didn't matter if they broke the law, they were the law. One night, I couldn't sleep, so sat staring out of my window. There was a light on in the house across the street from us. I could see people inside moving, making the artificial light flicker and wane. Then, the perfect silence was shattered, leaving shards and fragments to fall. A scream, and the smash of a bottle. Then the occupant of the house was shoved outside, with a sack covering his head. He was in the tight grip of a man in a government uniform. I still remember the way the street lamp light bounced off his bald head. He turned and saw me watching him. With a triumphant grin, he flashed a middle finger at me and shoved my neighbour into the back of the awaiting van. It was then I knew I had to do something. That very night, I slipped out of my house in black skinny jeans and a bright red bandanna. Finally, I, Gerard Way, was doing something. I could smell the revolution.
Note: this is the first time I've written fan fiction, should I carry on?
The year was 2050, and the world had turned to shit. Grandma once told me that the sky used to be blue, the grass green, the rivers clean. I think that was her dementia talking. The clouds were a blotchy, diseased puce; the sky itself had Lepracy. There was no grass, just miles of concrete urban nothing. I know only one river, and it sure as hell wasn't clean. The water was a brown sludge, like a curry left on the heat too long. Shopping trollies and footballs lay in the midst, left due to fear of contracting a disease from the foul thing. And in the city, the place of famine, ruin and despair, lived an evil. It lives in every human; in every man, woman and child. In every rat, pigeon and rabid dog. Accountants, lawyers and students, it lives in us all. It is called selfishness. It's a primal instinct that kicks in, a part of our survival. It's the only way to keep on keeping on in this world. And why is that? The government, that's why.
I remember reading the government's manifesto before the election. It said "you can count on us to bring the city to life. The people deserve a beautiful city, and it is our job to serve the people." Sometime after the election, I went back to read the the manifesto again, just to count how many promises they had broken. But when I came to open the manifesto, I found the 17 pages had been replaced by one. Typed in size 14 font, in the middle of the page were the words "Ha. You're fucked now." I feel this pretty much summarises the state we're in.
It was soon after that the government started making their 'changes'. The clothes were the first to go, to make way for a cleaner, normalized city. Conformity makes us easier to deal with. Everyone was issues grey clothes. The world was one giant concentration camp. Then it was the education. They couldn't give us the knowledge we'd need to fight back, that would be so counter-productive. Then it was the music. It all started when people started playing Rage Against The Machine's 'Take The Power Back' out of their windows. They could take everything away, but not the music... or so we thought. On December 4th, 2047, the world was set ablaze. Every copy of every Cd, vinyl or mp3 was burnt. Ipods smashed and recording studios ransacked. The people began to think all hope was lost.
That's when my band and I finally snapped. Don't get me wrong, people had fought back before, but they were never seen again. They had places they could take you. It didn't matter if they broke the law, they were the law. One night, I couldn't sleep, so sat staring out of my window. There was a light on in the house across the street from us. I could see people inside moving, making the artificial light flicker and wane. Then, the perfect silence was shattered, leaving shards and fragments to fall. A scream, and the smash of a bottle. Then the occupant of the house was shoved outside, with a sack covering his head. He was in the tight grip of a man in a government uniform. I still remember the way the street lamp light bounced off his bald head. He turned and saw me watching him. With a triumphant grin, he flashed a middle finger at me and shoved my neighbour into the back of the awaiting van. It was then I knew I had to do something. That very night, I slipped out of my house in black skinny jeans and a bright red bandanna. Finally, I, Gerard Way, was doing something. I could smell the revolution.
Note: this is the first time I've written fan fiction, should I carry on?
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