I had dreamt the same dream as always. It never changed. Sometimes it disturbed me how real it all seemed, and then I'd wake up in a cold sweat and gasping. I had had this dream since I can remember, probably before too. Sometimes I don't get very far, and sometimes I'll get right to the end, right until I'm about to-
And then I always wake up. I've never gotten any further than that, and something deep in me tells me I never want to.
A few months back, I got the worst news an 18-year-old girl could get; I had cancer. And worse still, it was pancreatic cancer, which has a very, very low survival rate. As soon as I was told, I gave up hope. But of course, I had to look like I was trying to get better. I went to chemo and radiotherapy, knowing it was just gonna make me sicker and give false hope to my family, but I had to do it.
Today I felt quite cheerful, and gave everybody lots of hugs and kisses. I had a new outlook on life in this hospital bed; enjoy what you can when you can. It hit me when I was moping about yesterday, and I saw an 80-something year old man trying to get out of bed so he could see out of the window. There was nothing special out there, and when I asked him why go through all that pain and bother just to see a dying tree and a bland car park. And he told me that your last days are hard enough without being miserable and making them even worse. He made me realise that my family were getting seriously depressed by what was happening, and if I just acted like a spoilt brat who didn't get a toy she wanted I was only making it worse for them.
At around 7pm I started getting real sleepy, and my mom and sister decided they were going to go home. I gave them more cuddles and kisses, but when they left I felt alone and isolated. I lay back in my bed and soon drifted off. And that dream came to me again, more real than ever before.
I was still in my hospital gown, but thankfully those god-awful tubes and wires had been removed from my skin, leaving small marks. I was standing in the hospital room, except it was totally empty. It was somewhat dark, but there was some dusty light coming in from behind me, giving the room an antique, aged look, the walls no longer their cheery pale yellow colour, now a faded beige and covered with what seemed to be fluff. I shuffled my slippered feet closer to the walls and ran a finger along one, and when I took my finger away it came back smothered in thick black ash and dust, and there was a clean, yet still dark streak on the wall. I flicked most of the ash off my finger and wiped the rest off onto my hospital gown, turned around and let out a sharp gasp.
The far wall looked like it had been blown to pieces; there was only a small section of the wall still standing, the rest was crumbling away onto the pile of bricks and rubble on the floor. Ash was raining from the grey cloud-filled sky, and I could see the ruins of what used to be the city, all in the same state of despair and ruin as the hospital room.
I wandered out into the remains of the city, and saw a group of people coming towards me. There were lots of people walking around something moving slowly, on which a much smaller group on top of whatever was moving, easily seen amongst the crowd surrounding them. I walked towards them, drawn to them, and as we neared each other I could see the small group consisted of four- no, five- young men, and they seemed to make up a band. There was a set of drums at the very back, behind which a young blonde man was sitting, a pair of drumsticks in his hand. In front of him were three more men, one with short black hair and sharp, striking features and held a black bass in his hands. Another also had short black hair, although slightly longer than the bassist's, and had a much softer, plumper face making him look younger, and he had a black guitar strapped over his shoulders and resting in one hand. There was another guitarist in the group, and he had a soft brown afro of hair, and a gentle, welcoming face, again holding a black guitar. There was one more guy at the very front of the group, with colourless hair and an almost similar skin tone, and he had a face I could only imagine on an angel. His eyes appeared dark and really stood out against his pale skin and hair. All were wearing a similar uniform-like outfit, a black fitted jacket with a silver design that reminded me of a ribcage, although each design was slightly different. They wore these with black trousers with a silver stripe down the side, and the bassist (for some unknown reason) had a badge on the right side of his chest.
The gap between us closed, and soon they were right in front of me. The front of the crowd moved to the edges, and I saw what it was that the band was standing on; it was a parade float, beautifully decorated with red flowers and a white skull made from what appeared to be tissue paper. The float stopped in front of me, and as I walked up to the front of it the angel-man looked into my eyes. I noticed his eyes were actually a very light hazel colour, but they stood out against his pale skin.
He reached out a hand to me, and I slowly lifted my hand to take his. Just as our hands were about to meet, he opened his mouth to speak. This was it. I knew that I would wake up at this moment. I had never heard the words that would fly from those beautiful lips; my fingers would never brush against his.
I closed my eyes in my dream.
"Welcome to the black parade."
I jumped, and almost screamed. His voice was like a gentle summer song, but I could hear an underlying winter frost hidden away. I opened my eyes, and saw I was still standing in front of the angel, still in the middle of the parade in the middle of the desolated city. I looked up at the angel and stammered "Am- am I still d- dreaming?"
He looked down at me sadly. "I'm afraid not. You are now at peace." I shivered at how he made this terrible news seem like a good thing, how he could probably make anything sound good with a voice like that. I glanced around me and saw the rest of the group a little closer than before, all staring at me and the angel. I looked back at him.
"My family…" He nodded. "They will be upset, of course. But it is better this way. Both their and your suffering is over." A single tear slid down my cheek, and I wiped it away furiously. He held out his hand again, and this time I took it without hesitation. He pulled me up onto the float- well, more like a stage from this point of view- and as soon as I did so something magical happened.
My hospital gown had vanished. I was now wearing a beautiful dress I had seen before; it was a black fitted dress, almost a corset for the top half, and where it reached my hips it floated out. The dress split on the left side with a red rose where the split ended, showing a blood red layer that was otherwise hidden from view. Between the two layers was a light layer of black netting, and there was also some netting across the bust of the corset. And even better, my long, thick black hair had grown back slightly wavy with a red rose in my hair. I ran my fingers through it, enjoying the soft feel I had missed for so long. I looked down at my feel and saw my favourite pair of black ballet pumps. I turned to look at the white-haired man, and leapt into his arms, giving him a massive cuddle. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He returned the hug, then let go, turned to the other band members and nodded. They started playing, and I got off the float, standing in front of it. I looked back at the frontman, who nodded to me, and I knew what I had to do. As they started playing, I started dancing. And as I danced I started moving forward, and the float followed. I soon realised I was at the very front of the parade, all of those on the ground with me had fallen back, and those at the very front of the group were now level with the front of the float.
As we walked on, another person joined me at the very front of the parade, and I could tell she had a lot of authority in this Plane. She wore a very old dress, so old it had faded to grey and black, ripped in places, in which you could see the wire hoop skirt underneath. She had no face, instead wore a gas mask, which cut into her thick wavy blonde hair. She only walked beside me, said nothing, never even looked at me.
We soon reached the end of our journey. We stopped in a clearing of the rubble, and in front of us was a set of big, black iron gates, beyond which we could see nothing. I stopped dancing, the band stopped playing, and the woman walked up to the gates. She did nothing, simply stood in front of them, and after a few seconds they swung open, shrieking from decades of neglect and rust. She turned to look in our direction, and the members of the band came and stood around me. The white-haired singer murmured to me 'Once we go through, there's no going back. We've been waiting for you for millennia." He looked at me, and then back at the rest of them. He stood tall, now wearing a black hat with silver detail that I had spotted at the side of the float, carrying a silver baton. He wrapped one arm around me, and I suddenly became aware of how skull-like his face appeared. I looked around at the other members of the band.
In unison they said "We'll carry on."
And with that we walked into another life.