We're All Outcasts (Gerard Way/ MCR Fanfiction)

PART 2 - Welcome To The Black Parade

I woke up, my heavy eyelids fluttering open. I was lying on the ground. I wondered if there was something wrong with my vision - everything was black and white. Still wearing the fuschia dress I wore for the show, it appeared grey. I preferred it like that.

Decrepit buildings fractured the skyline, wreckage littered the old, cracked tarmac of the street I had been lying next to.

Low clouds, tumultuous in their depth and foreboding in their colour (or lack of), churned overheard as pale grey powder fell into the breeze and floated to the ground. I held out my hand; it was ash.

I turned around slowly, taking in more of my surroundings. It looked like a city. A necropolis. Everything looked fragmented and abandoned and there was no sign of any life.

The ground rumbled for a second. An earthquake? No, it wasn't like that. It happened again. Was it-- drums?

I listened intently, and I heard it again. It definitely sounded like drums. They were far off, hundreds of metres at least, but I wanted to find them. If there were drums, that would mean someone was playing them. I might be able to find out where I was and what I was doing in that bizarre city.

Hang on a sec...

Now I thought about it, where was I?

Yeah... Where was I?

Now, the last thing I remembered was being on stage, playing Juliet in the school play. In the final scene (the final scene, ha ha), I had an all-too-familiar pang in my chest, and it hadn't gone away. I was in the ambulance and it felt like the world was tumbling away from me.

Maybe I'd died.

I laughed to myself - oh, the irony.

Well, what a way to go... Maybe I made the news? I imagined the story and chuckled.

I remembered all of the P.E. lessons where the teachers had forced me to run. I thought of their gobsmacked expressions when they found out that I truly was ill and I grinned despite the situation. Oh well, at least I wouldn't get wrinkly and incontinent. I just hoped that they wouldn't use my school photo in the papers (the constipated duck face I was unwittingly pulling at the time, though hugely comical, was not pretty...)

Oh good god, Gerard had said he loved me.

Holy shit!

Now, it was one thing thinking that your Drama teacher was stunningly beautiful, but actually doing anything or acting on your feelings was just wrong.

I remembered how he had kissed me during the blackout on stage. Yes, okay, shut up brain, I felt a little tingle in my stomach as I thought about how he had placed his lips on mine, but it was quickly replaced by horror and disgust as the realisation dawned and the gravity of the situation finally threw me.

Took you a while.

I had kissed a teacher. A teacher. A FUCKING TEACHER! HE SAID HE LIKED ME JUST BEFORE I PROPERLY KISSED HIM AND AS I WAS LYING THERE DYING HE SAID HE FUCKING LOVED ME. I WAS FUCKING 15! HE WAS A TEACHER AND HE SAID HE LOVED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING, TRYING TO BEFRIEND HIM?!  ARGHHHHHHH!

I was interrupted.

"Hello."

I whipped around and found myself face- to- face with someone with short, pearly white hair and hazel eyes, the only colour in that bleak world. He was wearing peculiar clothes - a black jacket with horizontal white ribbing. It looked like some sort of military uniform.

"Hello. I'm Scarlett."

"I suppose you'd like me to answer some questions."

He both looked and sounded horribly familiar, but I couldn't for the life of me remember where I recognised him from.