Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Think Happy Thoughts And We'll Fly Back Home
Welcome To The Black Parade
1 reviewWe see how Frank is coping with life in The Black Parade, and learn more about what happened to each of them.
0Unrated
So after about 6 months, I finally decide to update this shit. I'm not gonna pressure myself or anything but I want to update this like once a week. I think I'll say every Sunday, but it I'm busy then it won't (obviously). But I was just watching Criminal Minds (the episode called Legacy and when they're out interviewing all the hobos and prostitutes Reid gets hit on by every single prostitute they talked to oh my god I could have died laughing.) and I thought how clever the storyline was and I dunno what reminded me of this but I'm just gonna go with it. If anyone cares, I got a B with my story Where The Sun Doesn't Rise (edited so it wasn't a Frerard) and I was just like "I put a lot of work into that story and then my teacher (who's Irish, which is awesome) gives me a B?" I mean, wtf. Mind you, I got all A's on everything else so I was really pleased with that. Anyway, this chapter is kind of designed to explain stuff so ya won't be as confused.
Think Happy Thoughts And We'll Fly Back Home
The Black Parade
Welcome To The Black Parade
Frank woke up suddenly. The first thing he noticed was that it was light in his tent, which threw him a bit because it was currently winter and they got up for work at five a.m., meaning that they had to use lamps and matches to light their way down the rural mountains into the towns. The second thing he noticed was the strange person in his tent. He struggled to remember who it could be, and then realised it was Matt, the new recruitment that had been placed in his tent because they knew that Frank would take care of him. The poor kid hadn't started work yet, he was due to start today.
"Wake up, you've got your psychological evaluation in like fifty minutes," the sound of Matt's voice sifted through his brain and it took him a long time to understand what had been said. He struggled to process the information and when it came to understanding the big words, Frank gave up because he had trouble understanding the simplest of words. He just lay there.
"Frank? What's wrong?" That word. Wrong. It sounded funny. Like Matt was trying to say another one but couldn't. He had noticed it when the younger boy said his name as well. What is it when people speak funny? An acend? No, that wasn't it. Accent? Yes, that sounded more like it. So Matt had an accent. Where from, though? Maybe it was from around here. Wait. He couldn't be from here because everyone had been killed by the stupid things that fall from the sky. He had heard it on TV before, though. Most channels were broadcasted from A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. Yes, that's where he was from.
Hmmm, maybe he should try and figure out what Matt had first said. "You've got your psychological evaluation in fifty minutes." Well, the first bit meant that he had to do something. And the last bit, it was a measure of time. In fifty minutes. He'd have to move soon, then. The bit in the middle. "Evaluation." Wasn't that when people look at something? So they were going to look at him. "Psychological." It sounded like physical, and that was your body. But it wasn't that. What's the opposite of a body? Your mind. So they were going to look at his mind.
Panic washed over his body, making his stomach flip and his fingers to shake uncontrolably as he realised they were going to invade his mind, his thoughts, his memories. Everything that was private would be seen. They were going to open up his head. They were going to kill him.
Frank sat bolt upright in his bunk and stared at Matt. Except it wasn't Matt. It was an angel. It was beautiful, the way the wings were feathered and pure white, like the snow he'd seen on TV. His face shone with a golden light. "You will get up now, won't you?" That didn't sound like something an angel said.
Frank blinked and Matt sat there, his face anxious and his fingers gripping a piece of paper that probably had summoned him to the official psychology tent where they evaluated everyone regularly. It was like his mind had suddenly cleared, like before it had been filled with fog and black liquid that oozed out of his brain and now it had been sucked out of him and he saw everything for what it was.
"Uh, yeah, just let me get dressed a minute. Why aren't you at work?" Frank spoke with a broken voice, slowly and deliberately, like he knew how to speak but hadn't ever tried it before.
"Okay, I'll be waiting outside the tent. And I spoke to Lieftenant Ritter and he said that I needed to stay with you. Sorry 'bout that." He dug his hands in his pockets awkwardly, like he was ashamed of having to stay off work to look after your crazy bunk mate.
He heard the flap of the tent open and close. He was still in a dream-like state and stood up slowly and deliberately. He reached for his work overalls and shrugged them on over his boxers and black t-shirt.
One look in the mirror told him that he looked like a proper mess. His tufty brown hair was sticking up in every direction possible and his eyes were bloodshot and had brown bags under them from tiredness.
Sorry, it's just Towers by Young Guns came on K! TV and holy mother of god I nearly screamed. Jesus christ, I love that band so freaking much. And Yellowcard are quite good, but I dunno. I just noticed the violin thing in the video and I just thought wow.
A quick look outside the tent showed him that it was a crisp morning, with frost covering the ground like tiny diamonds that had been scattered. The leaves on the evergreen trees were hard with the frost and the lake that the camp looked over had clearly frozen over. I guess it's lucky they gave use extra insulated tents and sleeping bags, Frank thought to himself.
He flattened down his hair quickly and pulled his boots on over a pair of fluffy socks. Yes, they were fluffy, no, they were not pink. They were to keep the toes of the workers from dropping off in winter, spring and autumn because of how low the temperature got. After all, The Black Parade was right next to Meet Me Halfway, At Least and that country was completely covered in thick layers of snow all year round.
"Are you done yet? I think we need ta get goin'," Matt's voice drifted from outside and Frank hastily stepped outside into the cold.
"Yeah. How long do I have now?"
"Uh, about fifteen minutes I think."
They walked across the deserted campsite in silence, Frank humming the tune to Misery Business by Paramore under his breath while Matt was busy looking at everything. The shorter boy was trying to remember Matt's surname and failed, so he asked him "Matt, you know how you never really told me your second name?"
"Oh, yeah. It's Bellamy. Matt Bellamy."
Yes, I did just bring him into my story. Muse are just too good to not include Matt. And if you're wondering, Bones by Young Guns just came on and I think K! must be trying to kill me with awesomeness because first it was Towers and now Bones and deary me there's just too much awesome.
They reached a tent with a tatty sign pinned on the front saying 'Psychology Department'. They exchanged a nervous glance and Matt sat down on the frozen ground outside the flap. Frank bent his head as he lifted the flap to proceed inside.
"Ah, Iero. Come in and have a seat," A blonde secretary with rather too much make up smiled at him and gestured at the four seats that were clearly meant for people waiting. He sat down nervously and tried not to look at the secretary's chest area, which was rather large and revealing.
A few minutes passed by slowly.
Another few minutes passed even slower.
Eventually, a young doctor poked his head through the separating sheet and spoke clearly, "Mr Iero? Ah yes, come right this way, please."
Frank stood up with his knees shaking and followed him into the next section of the tent. Here, everything was clean and white and looked exactly like a hospital, except that there weren't any gurneys or anything.
Sweet jesus Welcome To The Black Parade just came on and setting aside the freaky coincidence that is that this chapter is called WTTBP, it is just the most awesome song in the history of everything and it's just so perfect and then Kerrang! have out it at twenty five. I mean, are you guys fucking retarded or something? It's like the best song ever and you don't even have the decency to put it more than halfway up. *sigh* when will they realise this?
Frank couldn't remember much about the test, or why they had said, but he definitely wasn't in his tent or working. That much was obvious. He looked around him and took in his surroundings. It looked like it was the tent where he was waiting for the evaluation, but bigger and there were beds. He spotted a brunette who looked like she was a nurse or something, so he asked her, "Where am I?"
"You're in the department for psychotic illnesses. We've got to wait for the results of the test first but it's clear that you're suffering from psychotic episodes and we need to keep an eye on you before we start any proper treatment."
"But..." He didn't understand why they couldn't send him home. Or why he couldn't remember the time, "Why can't I go home? And what's the time?"
The nurse sighed. "It's too dangerous. You'd have to be transported across five or six different countries and we can't afford to do that. The time is quarter to three in the afternoon. We had to give you an antipsychotic shot after your evaluation. My name is Jamia and I'll be looking after you from now on," Jamia had a lovely smile, like everything was going to be okay. It reassured Frank a lot.
"Where's Matt?"
"We sent him to work with Max Helyer instead of you."
"Oh."
Okay, I know this is a random time and everything but please review. I don't mind if it's, like, constructive critisism or something, hell, even if it's like "It was okay" and that's it, it would be great. I'm just tired of having like 100 views and no reviews.
Okay, rant over.
Frank chose to look around himself and found that he was dressed in those hospital dress things that patients wear and had two tags on his wrists. The writing on the tags told him that he was not currently on any medication. His bed sheets were crisp and clean, pure white. A vitals machine was stood next to him, presumably because they needed to check his pulse and temperature every so often.
There were about seven other beds in his ward. Only one other bed was occupied; it's occupant was softly muttering to himself and looking around at everything with wide eyes. A window (plastic because the tent wasn't permanent) looked down on the frozen lake, and by the look of things, it was starting to snow. Wait, it didn't look like snow. It was too grey. Ash. It was ash. From the bombings. A layer of colourless dust settled on the surface of ice outside, dulling any beauty that had previously resided in the cold world.
It destroyed any colour. Frank felt himself slip and slide down a slope, unable to stop himself from falling into a bottomless pit of grey. It was like he was fading into the endless grey. He wanted someone to save him, but he couldn't call out. He painfully raised his head and saw the unmistakable face of Gerard, his best friend at home. The raven haired boy's face twisted and turned into Mikey, a mousey haired lanky boy who Frank was also very close to. He tried calling to him to save him, but he couldn't seem to make any sound.
This time the face twisted into Ray, Frank's friend whom he looked up to enormously because of his skill with a guitar. Ray's face went foggy but Frank knew that he was laughing, due to be maniac laughing that rang in his ears like a clanging bell. He tried to block it out but he couldn't. The last thing he saw was
a dog. I'm sorry, I just thought of that and I thought it was too funny not to put in. If you hadn't copped on, Frank's having a really bad dream. A nightmare. Oh, Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold is sooooo good, if you don't know it, go and listen to it now. It's freaking awesome.
His horror movie buddy, Bob. Except his mouth was dripping with blood. He realised with frightening certainty that Bob was going to eat him, and suddenly it all went black.
Annnndddd that's the end of the chapter. Holy fuck, I wrote so many author's notes, you must be so annoyed at me. Sorry. Didn't mean to.
On a totally random note, I'm going to see Lostprophets in 39 days and Deaf Havana in 46 days so you could say I'm very excited. I prefer to say that I'm dying from excitement. Does anyone else love Deaf Havana? Nope? Just me then. Okay.
I'll just be there in November with my sister, mum and three friends seeing them live on our own and they'll just be like "Hey, London!" and then we'll just be like "Ermm it's only us here and we're not even from London" and then it'll be great because then it'll be like a private gig.
It's alright now because K! have decided that Welcome To The Black Parade is number 1 of Best 21st Century Anthems Top 20 so I have decided not to wrote a letter of complaint in.
And now I will say goodbye for this week. So, good bye my chums.
Think Happy Thoughts And We'll Fly Back Home
The Black Parade
Welcome To The Black Parade
Frank woke up suddenly. The first thing he noticed was that it was light in his tent, which threw him a bit because it was currently winter and they got up for work at five a.m., meaning that they had to use lamps and matches to light their way down the rural mountains into the towns. The second thing he noticed was the strange person in his tent. He struggled to remember who it could be, and then realised it was Matt, the new recruitment that had been placed in his tent because they knew that Frank would take care of him. The poor kid hadn't started work yet, he was due to start today.
"Wake up, you've got your psychological evaluation in like fifty minutes," the sound of Matt's voice sifted through his brain and it took him a long time to understand what had been said. He struggled to process the information and when it came to understanding the big words, Frank gave up because he had trouble understanding the simplest of words. He just lay there.
"Frank? What's wrong?" That word. Wrong. It sounded funny. Like Matt was trying to say another one but couldn't. He had noticed it when the younger boy said his name as well. What is it when people speak funny? An acend? No, that wasn't it. Accent? Yes, that sounded more like it. So Matt had an accent. Where from, though? Maybe it was from around here. Wait. He couldn't be from here because everyone had been killed by the stupid things that fall from the sky. He had heard it on TV before, though. Most channels were broadcasted from A Fever You Can't Sweat Out. Yes, that's where he was from.
Hmmm, maybe he should try and figure out what Matt had first said. "You've got your psychological evaluation in fifty minutes." Well, the first bit meant that he had to do something. And the last bit, it was a measure of time. In fifty minutes. He'd have to move soon, then. The bit in the middle. "Evaluation." Wasn't that when people look at something? So they were going to look at him. "Psychological." It sounded like physical, and that was your body. But it wasn't that. What's the opposite of a body? Your mind. So they were going to look at his mind.
Panic washed over his body, making his stomach flip and his fingers to shake uncontrolably as he realised they were going to invade his mind, his thoughts, his memories. Everything that was private would be seen. They were going to open up his head. They were going to kill him.
Frank sat bolt upright in his bunk and stared at Matt. Except it wasn't Matt. It was an angel. It was beautiful, the way the wings were feathered and pure white, like the snow he'd seen on TV. His face shone with a golden light. "You will get up now, won't you?" That didn't sound like something an angel said.
Frank blinked and Matt sat there, his face anxious and his fingers gripping a piece of paper that probably had summoned him to the official psychology tent where they evaluated everyone regularly. It was like his mind had suddenly cleared, like before it had been filled with fog and black liquid that oozed out of his brain and now it had been sucked out of him and he saw everything for what it was.
"Uh, yeah, just let me get dressed a minute. Why aren't you at work?" Frank spoke with a broken voice, slowly and deliberately, like he knew how to speak but hadn't ever tried it before.
"Okay, I'll be waiting outside the tent. And I spoke to Lieftenant Ritter and he said that I needed to stay with you. Sorry 'bout that." He dug his hands in his pockets awkwardly, like he was ashamed of having to stay off work to look after your crazy bunk mate.
He heard the flap of the tent open and close. He was still in a dream-like state and stood up slowly and deliberately. He reached for his work overalls and shrugged them on over his boxers and black t-shirt.
One look in the mirror told him that he looked like a proper mess. His tufty brown hair was sticking up in every direction possible and his eyes were bloodshot and had brown bags under them from tiredness.
Sorry, it's just Towers by Young Guns came on K! TV and holy mother of god I nearly screamed. Jesus christ, I love that band so freaking much. And Yellowcard are quite good, but I dunno. I just noticed the violin thing in the video and I just thought wow.
A quick look outside the tent showed him that it was a crisp morning, with frost covering the ground like tiny diamonds that had been scattered. The leaves on the evergreen trees were hard with the frost and the lake that the camp looked over had clearly frozen over. I guess it's lucky they gave use extra insulated tents and sleeping bags, Frank thought to himself.
He flattened down his hair quickly and pulled his boots on over a pair of fluffy socks. Yes, they were fluffy, no, they were not pink. They were to keep the toes of the workers from dropping off in winter, spring and autumn because of how low the temperature got. After all, The Black Parade was right next to Meet Me Halfway, At Least and that country was completely covered in thick layers of snow all year round.
"Are you done yet? I think we need ta get goin'," Matt's voice drifted from outside and Frank hastily stepped outside into the cold.
"Yeah. How long do I have now?"
"Uh, about fifteen minutes I think."
They walked across the deserted campsite in silence, Frank humming the tune to Misery Business by Paramore under his breath while Matt was busy looking at everything. The shorter boy was trying to remember Matt's surname and failed, so he asked him "Matt, you know how you never really told me your second name?"
"Oh, yeah. It's Bellamy. Matt Bellamy."
Yes, I did just bring him into my story. Muse are just too good to not include Matt. And if you're wondering, Bones by Young Guns just came on and I think K! must be trying to kill me with awesomeness because first it was Towers and now Bones and deary me there's just too much awesome.
They reached a tent with a tatty sign pinned on the front saying 'Psychology Department'. They exchanged a nervous glance and Matt sat down on the frozen ground outside the flap. Frank bent his head as he lifted the flap to proceed inside.
"Ah, Iero. Come in and have a seat," A blonde secretary with rather too much make up smiled at him and gestured at the four seats that were clearly meant for people waiting. He sat down nervously and tried not to look at the secretary's chest area, which was rather large and revealing.
A few minutes passed by slowly.
Another few minutes passed even slower.
Eventually, a young doctor poked his head through the separating sheet and spoke clearly, "Mr Iero? Ah yes, come right this way, please."
Frank stood up with his knees shaking and followed him into the next section of the tent. Here, everything was clean and white and looked exactly like a hospital, except that there weren't any gurneys or anything.
Sweet jesus Welcome To The Black Parade just came on and setting aside the freaky coincidence that is that this chapter is called WTTBP, it is just the most awesome song in the history of everything and it's just so perfect and then Kerrang! have out it at twenty five. I mean, are you guys fucking retarded or something? It's like the best song ever and you don't even have the decency to put it more than halfway up. *sigh* when will they realise this?
Frank couldn't remember much about the test, or why they had said, but he definitely wasn't in his tent or working. That much was obvious. He looked around him and took in his surroundings. It looked like it was the tent where he was waiting for the evaluation, but bigger and there were beds. He spotted a brunette who looked like she was a nurse or something, so he asked her, "Where am I?"
"You're in the department for psychotic illnesses. We've got to wait for the results of the test first but it's clear that you're suffering from psychotic episodes and we need to keep an eye on you before we start any proper treatment."
"But..." He didn't understand why they couldn't send him home. Or why he couldn't remember the time, "Why can't I go home? And what's the time?"
The nurse sighed. "It's too dangerous. You'd have to be transported across five or six different countries and we can't afford to do that. The time is quarter to three in the afternoon. We had to give you an antipsychotic shot after your evaluation. My name is Jamia and I'll be looking after you from now on," Jamia had a lovely smile, like everything was going to be okay. It reassured Frank a lot.
"Where's Matt?"
"We sent him to work with Max Helyer instead of you."
"Oh."
Okay, I know this is a random time and everything but please review. I don't mind if it's, like, constructive critisism or something, hell, even if it's like "It was okay" and that's it, it would be great. I'm just tired of having like 100 views and no reviews.
Okay, rant over.
Frank chose to look around himself and found that he was dressed in those hospital dress things that patients wear and had two tags on his wrists. The writing on the tags told him that he was not currently on any medication. His bed sheets were crisp and clean, pure white. A vitals machine was stood next to him, presumably because they needed to check his pulse and temperature every so often.
There were about seven other beds in his ward. Only one other bed was occupied; it's occupant was softly muttering to himself and looking around at everything with wide eyes. A window (plastic because the tent wasn't permanent) looked down on the frozen lake, and by the look of things, it was starting to snow. Wait, it didn't look like snow. It was too grey. Ash. It was ash. From the bombings. A layer of colourless dust settled on the surface of ice outside, dulling any beauty that had previously resided in the cold world.
It destroyed any colour. Frank felt himself slip and slide down a slope, unable to stop himself from falling into a bottomless pit of grey. It was like he was fading into the endless grey. He wanted someone to save him, but he couldn't call out. He painfully raised his head and saw the unmistakable face of Gerard, his best friend at home. The raven haired boy's face twisted and turned into Mikey, a mousey haired lanky boy who Frank was also very close to. He tried calling to him to save him, but he couldn't seem to make any sound.
This time the face twisted into Ray, Frank's friend whom he looked up to enormously because of his skill with a guitar. Ray's face went foggy but Frank knew that he was laughing, due to be maniac laughing that rang in his ears like a clanging bell. He tried to block it out but he couldn't. The last thing he saw was
a dog. I'm sorry, I just thought of that and I thought it was too funny not to put in. If you hadn't copped on, Frank's having a really bad dream. A nightmare. Oh, Nightmare by Avenged Sevenfold is sooooo good, if you don't know it, go and listen to it now. It's freaking awesome.
His horror movie buddy, Bob. Except his mouth was dripping with blood. He realised with frightening certainty that Bob was going to eat him, and suddenly it all went black.
Annnndddd that's the end of the chapter. Holy fuck, I wrote so many author's notes, you must be so annoyed at me. Sorry. Didn't mean to.
On a totally random note, I'm going to see Lostprophets in 39 days and Deaf Havana in 46 days so you could say I'm very excited. I prefer to say that I'm dying from excitement. Does anyone else love Deaf Havana? Nope? Just me then. Okay.
I'll just be there in November with my sister, mum and three friends seeing them live on our own and they'll just be like "Hey, London!" and then we'll just be like "Ermm it's only us here and we're not even from London" and then it'll be great because then it'll be like a private gig.
It's alright now because K! have decided that Welcome To The Black Parade is number 1 of Best 21st Century Anthems Top 20 so I have decided not to wrote a letter of complaint in.
And now I will say goodbye for this week. So, good bye my chums.
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