Wherever they went and whatever they did in life, the loves and friends lost and found along the way, the idea of the twelve kids who grew up on and around Rethink Avenue was still very much the epitome of friendships and happiness. Not one of the twelve denied it.

Of course, some weren't as close as they could have been. Some simply didn't want to be and some of the bonds were artificial enough to last them in the moments it was needed for. Maybe not the definition of a perfect story but it suited them just fine. They were a tight-knit group at the end of the day and would probably end up taking a bullet for each other should they have needed to.

The idyllic paradise that harbored their child- and adolescenthoods could always be found in each of their minds during the hard times throughout their lives; thinking back to the days lined with freedom, merriment and great adventures. The core on which their entire persons rested. Where they truly became the people they would walk as for the rest of their lives, until the end. And until that very point, they cherished it like no other.

Most of them kept in touch after they all started to leave the street for adult life; some friendships ran too deep to be ended by distance. Integrated parts of each others' stories through and through, the only time they ever saw each other as the group that had once been unintentionally formed was the anniversary of the day the first of them had left Rethink Avenue. Once a year for a very long time. Until the rules changed yet again. Until they gathered at the street the next year to find themselves one person shorter, the next of them to leave the street signs of Rethink for the one that reads 'The End.'.

As is customary in life, the tragic occurrences appeared sporadically. Every year they dutifully continued to gather and ever too often did the number of members recede, especially in the later parts of their lives. But they struggled on with the tradition, determined to honor the memories of those who had marched on to the next great experience. Strolling around the areas of old, taking their time to point out locations very dear to their hearts, sharing amusing anecdotes that they all knew down to the most miniscule detail but still laughed whole heartedly to.

Though by this time all of their families had moved out of Peach Creek for good, the current residents of the street were always aware that the somber gathering would appear without fault midday towards the end of October. Never questioning the action, they left them to their routine. Saying hello if they passed them on the way home, maybe offering them a cup of tea they would decline if the weather grew weary. Other than this annual happening, these 'new' neighbors knew nothing. The shift in generations had caused the neighborhood of Rethink to forget the story of the twelve. Just as well, some of them mused; the remainder of the group knew and that was enough, they felt.

So what differentiated these twelve individuals from their peers? What made them important enough to focus this account of events upon? Was their friendship much purer than the ones you or I might possess? Were they destined for greatness, changing the world wherever they went? Was it so that they were quite simply the most important people to ever come into existence, shaping the lives of kids and young adults all over the world just by showing them the true meaning of living?

Well, no. There wasn't anything much special about them really. Some of them lived long and fruitful lives, others passed too young and very few of them felt that their time on this planet had been wasted on unnecessary suffering. Menial jobs, children to carry on their genetic legacy, substance abuse, growing older with every archived memory. But surely, doesn't the majority of people fit into one of these categories? So... What then?

It was actually the most remarkable thing, something they weren't even aware formed a pattern between them. Because within the last three weeks of their respective lives, they heard a calling. Gradually increasing in strength, they were all haunted in one way or another by the same slow, mellow melody. A tune that always seemed eerily familiar but no one ever managed to figure out where they possibly could have heard it before. All except for one. The last of them to join that omnipresent marching band that grants us all a ticket to their everlasting concert sooner or later; the Black Parade.

It was on his last day in life, coinciding with a day in late October, that he realized that something had always been there lurking in the background, patiently calling them home.


"Hey there, Double-D." She strutted into the living room without warning; they'd been together long enough for her to feel right at home in his house. He perked up from his position on the couch, peering at her over the edge of his reading glasses.

"Hello, Marie." Leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips, she went into the kitchen to wash her hands; a custom of his that she'd been forced to adopt ever since she'd held his hand after a day of vigorous mechanic work on her car. He still snuck an extra glance at her hands every now and then for traces of motor oil. "How is your day faring so far?"

"A little better now I'm here; still think Nathanson has it out for me."

"Everyone gets the same amount of homework, Marie."

"Fifty pages until Monday is not equality for all!"

"Can I assist you with anything?"

"Stay cute." Strolling back into the living room, taking a big bite out of an apple she had acquired, she thumped down next to him and folded her legs. "What're you reading?"

Blood.

"What?" Her eyebrows raised, curious title for a book.

"'Catcher in the Rye'. It's not the book required for AP English but I recall it having distinct parallels to the book we are analysing in this current moment."

"What're you reading now?"

"'The Cat in the Hat'."

"... I'm not even gonna ask." Double-D placed a perfectly straight bookmark, so perfect that one wouldn't believe that it had been passed between countless of books for countless of years, on the page he had just finished before removing his reading glasses and observing her. "You don't have to stop; you're cute when you read. Especially with a pair of glasses you don't even need."

"The unnecessary strain on my eyes could very possibly lead to problems with the optical-" She quickly silenced him with a kiss on his nose.

"You're even cuter when you get going."

So much blood.

"What?" This time, she could've sworn she'd heard him correctly but he shot her a puzzled look.

"I didn't say anything." He proceeded with relocating the book and glasses to the table but Marie managed to snatch up the latter item, toying with them between her fingers.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Barely had he opened his mouth to reply before she interrupted him abruptly, having noticed something that seemed rather off to be occurring on a Wednesday afternoon. "Hey, what's with the suit?"

"Oh." Looking down with a sudden melancholic tint to his facial expression, he began fiddling with his pitch black tie instead of meeting her gaze again. "I seem to have forgotten I am wearing it."

"What's the occasion? You finally ready to tie the knot?" She snickered silently to her own joke but it ebbed out when he still refused to look at her, instead tugging at his shirt sleeves while slowly tapping a rhythm against his leg. Feeling that some retaliation was in order, she began to observe the black spectacles in her hands. They were nothing fancy, Marie could recall the day her boyfriend stood for a good half-hour at the convenience store trying on several pairs and measuring their effectiveness using different books before settling upon those. Funny that she herself had never actually tried them on. Might as well, see if they actually did improve the reading experience.

...

They really blurred shit at a distance, that much was for sure.

She reached out for his copy of 'Catcher in the Rye', since they were reading glasses after all, and managed to catch a ray of sunshine that was drifting in through the window in the left lens, blinding her for a moment.

The reflection of the bathroom lamp in the blade.

Instinctively, she jolted back into the depths of the couch at the sudden flash of event before her eyes. What the hell had that been?

"Marie..." Double-D finally decided to lock his saddened gaze with her frantic one, frightened at the sight that had appeared.

"Sorry, I gotta be dehydrated or something." Marie shook her head to clear her thoughts; he often complained that she never did drink enough water and ended up in foul moods as a result. She jumped when he placed a chillingly, almost unnaturally, cold hand on her arm, opening his mouth slightly and then closing it a few times before finally speaking.

"It's... my funeral suit." The increasing softness of the couch, the surreal darkness of his unusual apparel and the piercing scent of a cologne he'd received for Christmas a couple of years back by... Kathleen. Who the hell was Kathleen? She'd never even heard the name before yet she knew that the cologne was given... Hang on. Double-D didn't even wear cologne.

"Double-D, what the- Who died?" Something was wrong, this is not how it was supposed to be. She didn't ask him about the suit, he wasn't even wearing a suit that day and- How could a moment be so off its own axis? How could she know that this wasn't the course these events were going to take?

"Relax, Marie; the more you struggle, the more unpleasant it will be for you." His entire being flickered for a second, granting her a fraction of a glimpse of a much older looking man who seemed so incredibly familiar that it unnerved her not knowing who he was. The jacket he wasn't supposed to be in clinging tighter to his body for every second and the sunshine no longer reflecting off of it, nearing complete and absolute blackness, only increased her state of panic.

"What're you talking about?!" She tried to get up off the couch but found herself unable to; not only feeling weak but the couch was slowly engulfing her into its cushion-y depths.

Enveloped in liquid. A mixture of tap water and her crimson life force. Feeling faint.

"What the hell is going on here?! Double-D!" He sighed, so grimly that it felt like all hope drained from her soul, and slowly leaned in towards her. Their lips met in a tight embrace and she relaxed the slightest, feeling the familiar sensation of his mouth.

Tongue twisting around in a pool of metallic taste. The taste of darkness.

Her eyes shot open just as Double-D sat back, staring out the window and tapping on with the rhythm. A single tear streaming down his cheek. Something... Something on her own. Why was he crying? Why was she crying?

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Marie. I'm sorry that life pushed you to do this." His voice seemed so distant, like he was speaking to her from the far end of a tunnel. She turned her head slowly, it was feeling lighter by the second, and blinked twice. Her visual field was being invaded by something black, darkening her image of the suit wearing Double-D. He flickered again, this time granting her a longer view of the same all too familiar older man. It was him. The man she'd spent years pining over, never getting over, never letting go of the feelings for him. But whether young or old, it was no longer her Double-D that was accompanying her.

"I... I remember." Mustering up the last of her rapidly fading strength, she raised her arm and looked at it through hazy eyes. The sigh that escaped her wasn't because of the fact that she was out of time, it wasn't because Double-D wasn't actually sitting next to her, it wasn't even because she began to wonder if she had made the wrong decision. The sigh grew out of frustration that she hadn't even noticed the obvious multitude of vertical bleeding wounds that riddled her right arm.

No regrets. Of course there were; more of them than anything else in her miserable life. But this was the right decision. For her. Eyes closed, too straining to keep them open.

Double-D disappeared into the darkness, his tapped rhythm growing in decibel to guide her through to the other side. This wasn't real. Perhaps once it had been but now it was nothing more than a dying manifestation of what her life ultimately came down to. This memory of the two of them, before it all went downhill, when they were happy and in love. When she had been happy and in love.

No more. No more pain.

Every muscle in her body relaxed; finally feeling free for the first time in many, many years. They'd understand. Lee'd probably be pissed until the end of all things, May would have a complete breakdown ando Double-D... Well, he'd probably blame himself even though none of this was his fault. She hadn't been his responsibility for some fifteen years and even then had she hated being his burden with her uncontrollable emotional outbursts and fits of depression. This was for the better. He could finally move on with his life without ever having to look back. Herself? Whatever was waiting for her, once the drumming echoing through the darkness had stopped, would sure be better than anything she'd experienced so far.

"Death... Dead! At last..." The last thought that crossed her mind was just how much she agreed with that statement and had she had a little more time before having the darkness envelop her she would've wondered just exactly who had made the statement. But before such an action could be made, the middle sister of the Kanker family had left this life.

No more Marie Kanker. Just the way she liked it.