Escaping the black parade

Therapy.

'So these reaccuring nightmares always end the same way? With you escaping?' Her therapist asked with an almost non interest.

'Well yes and no. Its not the same everytime I know I've been there before. It's evolving and more frequent. Am I crazy?' She asked not really wanting the answer.

She thought therapy would help when she first started getting the dreams, worried it was a form of night terrors. As the dreams and therapy had progressed she felt even further from sane. she couldn't convey how real the parade felt it wasn't like any dream she had ever encountered. She heard the crunch of rubble beneath her feet, felt the sharpness of the jagged walls edges and could taste the concrete dust in the air. She was convinced she was really there.

'You know full well we don't use the term crazy here. You are not the first and won't be the last to have vivid night terrors. They can stem from what's going on in your real life. That's why I need you to stop missing sessions so we can work through and combat these.' She zoned out while the therapist spoke, it was always the same words.

Therapy was scheduled every Tuesday but she rarely went knowing it wasn't helping. Her last visit to the parade had freaked her out though and she could still see his piercing eyes staring at her when she closed her eyes. It had been a mistake to turn up today though, the therapist wasn't helping whatsoever. Deep down she knew this was more real and shit wasn't that bad in her life, mundane yes but pretty easy.

As soon as the session ended she rushed out of the door, down the steps and out into the bright city street. The sounds were overwhelming right now so she popped in her earphones and started up her metal playlist to drown everything out. Music was her real therapy not these bullshit sessions. Pushing forward through the busy street she felt her thoughts calm, anxiety was replaced by loud guitars and drums from the music and bringing her mind peace.

Suddenly she stopped dead at a flash of white hair in front of her. She glimpsed his green eyes through the crowd. It couldn't be him could it, not here? Fear froze her to the spot causing someone behind her to bump into her. She turned and muttered a sorry and when she turned back he was gone. Spooked she rushed home no longer daring to look at anyones faces, allowing then to be a blur just above her eyeline. she didn't want to see him.

By the time she had walked through her door she had managed to convince herself it was all in her imagination, she was just overthinking these dreams and manifesting them into some sort of reality. She really was worried for her mental health.

Not having time to stop she quickly showered and got changed into black jeans and an old band tshirt for work. Working at the local bar meant she could dress how she wanted for her shifts and the late shifts always made her choose comfort.

Her shift went pretty fast she only had half an hour to go now. There's had been an issue with a creepy customer harassing her wanting her phone number but Luke the bar manager had sorted that and thrown the guy out. The constant downside to the job was creepy guys drinking too much and being to forward. She was almost numb to it now and she refused to let it spoil the job she enjoyed.

A couple of times throughout the night she thought she saw a glimpse of white hair amonst the crowd but dismissed it to paranoia. What was going on in her head. She pleaded to herself for a sane nights sleep tonight.

Rushing across the dark car park after he shift she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, she felt so drained. She threw her bag across into the passenger seat of her car but was met with resistance when she tried to pull the door shut. She froze when she turned to see the creepy customer from earlier holding the door open.

'Fucking bitch getting me barred from her because you can't take a compliment. I'm going to teach you a lesson...' He slurred the smell of stale whiskey hitting her with every word.

'Fuck you, get the fuck away from me' she yelled hoping someone might hear, suddenly very aware if how dark and empty the little car park was.

'I'm gonna....' but before he could finish his sentence she saw a hand reach around his throat pulling him backwards at speed into the darkness. She froze. No longer knowing what to be afraid of. Next thing she knew the white haired man from the parade stepped out of the darkness walking towards her quietly. His movement so smooth, no footsteps echoing, it's was terrifying yet mesmerising.

'You need to be more careful out here or you will end up back at the parade.'  His voice was smooth and quiet not quite what she expected after hearing the loud raw emotion from his singing in the parade. 

'Why are you here? How are you here?' She whispered still frozen in place.

'I shouldn't be here, I could be in a lot of trouble for crossing into this reality. I couldn't stop myself when I saw you. You're different to the souls who pass through the parade. I needed to know what you are.' He moved closer as he spoke making her lean back further into her car away from him.

'I'm just a person, who works a shitty Job and lives in a shitty city. I don't even understand what the parade is.' She yelled at him.

'Its OK I'm not here to hurt you. How did you create the portal between worlds? People shouldn't be able to travel back and forth, only the lost souls come to the limbo of the parade.' His hand reached out and touched her cheek lightly his eyes furrowed in confusion. Her breathing was fast unsure if what all this meant had she finally reached psychosis, was she hallucinating? She could feel the icy chill of his fingers against her skin though, the lightest if touches but it was definitely there.

'Who are you?' She managed to ask once he withdrew his touch.

'The saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned. A soul collector. All the lost souls not knowing what existence to end up in come to us. We collect them, give them a home, a refuge to exist. Thats why your visit is so fascinating you dont belong there your still living.'

'I don't understand. This is nuts. I've finally lost the plot none of this can be real.' She climbed from the car, no longer afraid of him. If he was going to kill her he would have done it by now and if he was a hallucination then he couldn't harm her. Stepping in front of him she hesitated before placing her hand against his chest. She glanced up at him briefly to gauge his reaction before looking back at her hand. He was cold to the touch, and she realised she couldn't feel a beat of his heart. The jacket under her hands was soft and well worn, tears littered across it.

'Fuck you are real. I don't know how to process this...why am I not more scared of you!  In the dreams I run from you' she asked pulling her hand back the coldness of him still a chill on her skin.

'I'm very real but I shouldn't be in this world. I have to go now. Take more care because if you die here you will be in the parade for real.'

'Why do I keep finding myself there?' She yelled after him as he turned to walk away.

'I don't know, and I'd love to know too.' He paused to speak again before walking off onto the darkness.

She hurried into her car and locked the doors aware of how alone in the dark she was once again. She drove home in a daze relaying the conversation over and over and yet nothing became any clearer. What the fuck was going on.