as promised, the first of hopefully a few chapters over break. i hope its ok, i'm kind of shit at writing emotional stuff so i'm trying to get back into it.
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"Oi, what are you doing?"
Neil groaned as he saw Charlie throwing books off the library shelves one-by-one. There was already a pile of at least ten books on the floor and Neil knew they were going to get in trouble for it if they didn't clean it up fast.
"Quiet down, I'm just looking for the yearbook."
"You don't need to pull every single yearbook from the past fifty years off the shelf to find a single one," Todd laughed.
"Well, It's too late for that now," Charlie pulled a leather bound book off the shelf with the number 1981.
"Just help us put the other books back on the shelf you big dolt."
Charlie began to begrudgingly pick up the books he had knocked off the shelf and put them back, albeit rather sloppily. Neil shook his head, if Charlie wanted to get a note from the library detailing the time and place of his detention, he could. Neil wasn't going to do anything to intervene. Charlie placed the annual on the table and the three of them crowded around him, anxiously trying to get a look at Mr. Keating in high school. Charlie opened it and began flipping through the pages.
"Oh, there he is!" Todd exclaimed, pointing at a small picture at the bottom of the graduation photos. Charlie burst out laughing.
"That's Mr. Keating," he yelled, almost choking on his spit.
"Quiet over there," a yell came from across the library. They quickly lowered their voices.
"His haircut is so awful," Charlie pointed out.
"You're one to talk," Neil ducked as a hand came flying by his head.
"What does it say he did at the school?" Todd asked.
Neil leaned over the book, scanning the few words that were printed under his picture. "Listen to this, captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound, Thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society."
"Thigh man. It sounds like Mr. K was a hell raiser."
"I bet he was." Todd leaned down next to the book over Neil. "Man most likely to do anything, it says."
"Well, I suppose if you could consider coming back to teach at this shit school, then that's correct." Neil said.
"Hey, It says 'Dead Poets Society.' Do either of you have any idea what that is?" Charlie asked.
"No, never heard of it," Neil said.
"We should ask him after class today."
"Yeah we should," Charlie said. "I hope it's an evil secret organization plotting to tear apart the bureaucracy of this school. I'd love to join that club."
He ducked as Neil's hand went flying towards his head.
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"Students, today we are going to begin working through the textbook." Mr. Keating announced as he walked out of the study and started class. A groan echoed around the room and Neil felt that his sentiments aligned with most of his classmates. The class had been amazing so far, why ruin it by reading what the textbook had to say about english.
"Will you open to page 21 of the introduction and Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface entitled "Understanding Poetry." Neil picked up his glasses from his desk, his eyesight wasn't bad, but the doctor had told him that if he was reading often, he should try to wear his glasses or it might get worse. He adjusted them over the bridge of his nose and began to read.
YOU ARE READING
SING ME TO SLEEP -- neil perry
General Fictioni don't want to wake up on my own anymore Neil Perry x Todd Anderson
