Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Gerard gripped his brother's hand in fear, even though it took most of his strength to do so. Every drop of the saline IV in his arm felt like a beat on a bass drum pounding in his ears. He stared at the blank ceiling, the doctor's words missing him completely. He was tired of hearing about how everything that was happening to him made no sense to them, of how he would have to go through so many more weeks of chemo, and of everything else that went along with this horrible disease.
"G?" asked his brother, snapping him back to reality.
"What?" he asked, straining just to speak.
"Are you going to go through with the surgery or not? They need your consent." He sighed.
"Fine." Mikey nodded, and they removed the current IV from his arm, shoving in another one just as fast. This one was full of morphine. He felt himself falling into a deep sleep and watched the world in front of him go black.
Gray blurs began to take shape and formed crisp, desolate buildings. Ash-colored snow was falling everywhere, gathering on a road lined with debris. Gerard looked around at the destruction. Something bad had happened here. He glanced in the direction of where the sun should have been, seeing only smoky clouds. There was something interrupting the clear cut shapes of the buildings, something large. He slowly walked down the road, unable to move quickly because of the pain. He felt very weak.
He reached the object, seeing that it was a black two-tiered platform. Nothing else was around or on it. It seemed out of place.
"Is anyone here?" Gerard asked, marveling at the sound of his own voice. It sounded stronger, renewed, as though the cancer had left him. He felt infused with a new strength, a new energy. He liked it.
He heard a sound behind him and turned more swiftly than he would have thought possible. A seemingly endless crowd of people stood behind him. Some wore masks, others wore costumes. But all of them had large dark circles around their eyes.
"Who...who are you?" he asked curiously.
"We are the Black Parade," they said unanimously. Two twin girls stepped forward, wearing what looked like marching band uniforms. The exception was that they were completely black.
"And you will be our new leader," said one.
"Why?"
"If you accept, it will not come for you for some time. But we must know," said the other. Gerard hesitated for a moment, then turned and climbed aboard the platform, standing at the front so he was facing the crowd. Pale skulls and ragged garlands appeared along the sides of the float. The strength inside him grew.
"I accept." The white hospital gown he wore was instantly replaced with an ebony marching band uniform. A melody suddenly came to him, along with a story. The story of a patient dying young with no family or friends to console him. He needed help. He needed hope.
He needed a parade. A Black Parade.
Gerard heard the melody so clearly he thought it was actually being played. He knew this story needed to be told, and that he needed to be the one to tell it. He needed to sing.
The words came to him instantaneously, and the song began. He felt himself start to get choked up, but controlled it. He had to carry on with the song. After only a few bars, the song intensified with drums and a flute. Then the whole band came in, and pure magic was created. He finished the second verse, feeling everything almost come to a halt. Not long after, the pace picked up considerably. Gerard closed his eyes while he sang, feeling the music take control of him.
He started acting like the parade's leader, and opened his eyes again when he felt the platform he stood on start moving slowly and smoothly. He took a quick glance back to see the crowd following the platform's path. Even more startling, he saw a band, HIS band, playing along with him with every ounce of heartfelt emotion they had.
He returned to acting out the song with renewed energy. He looked into the distance and saw someone standing there. As the platform drew closer to him, Gerard realized it was another hospital patient. He was the one the story belonged to. As the song drew to a close, the platform stopped moving. He held out the last note with a hint of sorrow in his voice, finding three of the other band members suddenly standing next to him. The drum pattern that had been in the song from the beginning continued on, and the patient approached the platform expectantly. He looked straight into Gerard's eyes for a moment, then turned around. A medallion strung on a black satin ribbon appeared in his hands, and he instinctively placed it around the patient's neck. The man slowly walked away from the float and examined it thoughtfully. Gerard felt time coming to a halt. All sound vanished, even that of the patient's slow footsteps.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. Mikey, whose hair was now black to match that of the rest of the group, was offering him a smaller version of the medal he had just issued. He grasped it, knowing exactly who he was going to give it to.
"Come on, G, you have to wake up. You just have to." Gerard opened his eyes, feeling a stab of pain the second he did. He hesitated to breathe deeply, feeling a line of stitches on his chest.
"You're alive!" Mikey was right next to him, holding his right hand. That accursed IV was still in his arm, but the deafening bass sound of the drip was gone. He felt something digging in to the fingers of his other hand. First he thought it was a side effect of the morphine, that he was imagining it, but soon recognized that it was very real. A plan began to form in his mind. But first he had to respond to Mikey.
"Of course I am," he said softly, unsure of how his voice would sound. "What did you expect?"
"Your heart stopped twice during the surgery. You died." Gerard blinked at his brother's words. 'That must have been what those people were talking about. I wasn't supposed to die just then.' Then the reality of the situation hit him.
"I...I what?"
"You aren't supposed to be alive. You barely had a pulse after they finished operating. Everyone thought you would be in a coma for at least a week. But you're alive!" Gerard smiled. The nurse asked if he wanted his family to come in, and he nodded weakly. The door opened and his parents stepped in, followed as closely as possible by the other band members.
"Hi everyone," he said with a smile, trying to sound casual.
"G, don't scare us like that," said Frank.
"I'll try not to in the future." His parents left the room to speak to the doctor, and Gerard propped himself up on several pillows.
"You said I died during the surgery," he said, glancing up at Mikey for confirmation. His brother nodded. "Well, I went somewhere. I don't know where it was and I don't know when I'll be going back, but hopefully it'll be sometime soon. Guys," he said, uncurling the fingers of his left hand to show them the black and gold medal.
"I have a great idea for our next album."
"G?" asked his brother, snapping him back to reality.
"What?" he asked, straining just to speak.
"Are you going to go through with the surgery or not? They need your consent." He sighed.
"Fine." Mikey nodded, and they removed the current IV from his arm, shoving in another one just as fast. This one was full of morphine. He felt himself falling into a deep sleep and watched the world in front of him go black.
Gray blurs began to take shape and formed crisp, desolate buildings. Ash-colored snow was falling everywhere, gathering on a road lined with debris. Gerard looked around at the destruction. Something bad had happened here. He glanced in the direction of where the sun should have been, seeing only smoky clouds. There was something interrupting the clear cut shapes of the buildings, something large. He slowly walked down the road, unable to move quickly because of the pain. He felt very weak.
He reached the object, seeing that it was a black two-tiered platform. Nothing else was around or on it. It seemed out of place.
"Is anyone here?" Gerard asked, marveling at the sound of his own voice. It sounded stronger, renewed, as though the cancer had left him. He felt infused with a new strength, a new energy. He liked it.
He heard a sound behind him and turned more swiftly than he would have thought possible. A seemingly endless crowd of people stood behind him. Some wore masks, others wore costumes. But all of them had large dark circles around their eyes.
"Who...who are you?" he asked curiously.
"We are the Black Parade," they said unanimously. Two twin girls stepped forward, wearing what looked like marching band uniforms. The exception was that they were completely black.
"And you will be our new leader," said one.
"Why?"
"If you accept, it will not come for you for some time. But we must know," said the other. Gerard hesitated for a moment, then turned and climbed aboard the platform, standing at the front so he was facing the crowd. Pale skulls and ragged garlands appeared along the sides of the float. The strength inside him grew.
"I accept." The white hospital gown he wore was instantly replaced with an ebony marching band uniform. A melody suddenly came to him, along with a story. The story of a patient dying young with no family or friends to console him. He needed help. He needed hope.
He needed a parade. A Black Parade.
Gerard heard the melody so clearly he thought it was actually being played. He knew this story needed to be told, and that he needed to be the one to tell it. He needed to sing.
The words came to him instantaneously, and the song began. He felt himself start to get choked up, but controlled it. He had to carry on with the song. After only a few bars, the song intensified with drums and a flute. Then the whole band came in, and pure magic was created. He finished the second verse, feeling everything almost come to a halt. Not long after, the pace picked up considerably. Gerard closed his eyes while he sang, feeling the music take control of him.
He started acting like the parade's leader, and opened his eyes again when he felt the platform he stood on start moving slowly and smoothly. He took a quick glance back to see the crowd following the platform's path. Even more startling, he saw a band, HIS band, playing along with him with every ounce of heartfelt emotion they had.
He returned to acting out the song with renewed energy. He looked into the distance and saw someone standing there. As the platform drew closer to him, Gerard realized it was another hospital patient. He was the one the story belonged to. As the song drew to a close, the platform stopped moving. He held out the last note with a hint of sorrow in his voice, finding three of the other band members suddenly standing next to him. The drum pattern that had been in the song from the beginning continued on, and the patient approached the platform expectantly. He looked straight into Gerard's eyes for a moment, then turned around. A medallion strung on a black satin ribbon appeared in his hands, and he instinctively placed it around the patient's neck. The man slowly walked away from the float and examined it thoughtfully. Gerard felt time coming to a halt. All sound vanished, even that of the patient's slow footsteps.
He felt a tap on his shoulder. Mikey, whose hair was now black to match that of the rest of the group, was offering him a smaller version of the medal he had just issued. He grasped it, knowing exactly who he was going to give it to.
"Come on, G, you have to wake up. You just have to." Gerard opened his eyes, feeling a stab of pain the second he did. He hesitated to breathe deeply, feeling a line of stitches on his chest.
"You're alive!" Mikey was right next to him, holding his right hand. That accursed IV was still in his arm, but the deafening bass sound of the drip was gone. He felt something digging in to the fingers of his other hand. First he thought it was a side effect of the morphine, that he was imagining it, but soon recognized that it was very real. A plan began to form in his mind. But first he had to respond to Mikey.
"Of course I am," he said softly, unsure of how his voice would sound. "What did you expect?"
"Your heart stopped twice during the surgery. You died." Gerard blinked at his brother's words. 'That must have been what those people were talking about. I wasn't supposed to die just then.' Then the reality of the situation hit him.
"I...I what?"
"You aren't supposed to be alive. You barely had a pulse after they finished operating. Everyone thought you would be in a coma for at least a week. But you're alive!" Gerard smiled. The nurse asked if he wanted his family to come in, and he nodded weakly. The door opened and his parents stepped in, followed as closely as possible by the other band members.
"Hi everyone," he said with a smile, trying to sound casual.
"G, don't scare us like that," said Frank.
"I'll try not to in the future." His parents left the room to speak to the doctor, and Gerard propped himself up on several pillows.
"You said I died during the surgery," he said, glancing up at Mikey for confirmation. His brother nodded. "Well, I went somewhere. I don't know where it was and I don't know when I'll be going back, but hopefully it'll be sometime soon. Guys," he said, uncurling the fingers of his left hand to show them the black and gold medal.
"I have a great idea for our next album."
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