𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎

I couldn't believe that Neil Perry was dead. It felt unreal. Though we are mortal, it sometimes feels as if we will live forever. The death of Charlie's friend struck me with the reminder that I could die. I wasn't untouchable.

But more than that was the sense of guilt. Neil Perry killed himself, and maybe there was a chance to prevent that. I knew him, but I didn't get enough time with him to consider him a close friend. Charlie, on the other hand, supported the hell out of that kid. It hurt me to see him beat himself up over the 'what ifs' because there was no way he could go back in time and change what had happened. It really, truly, made a huge impact of everyone in the town we lived in because it was so preventable. 

-

The events leading up to the terrible death of Neil Perry were some of the greatest moments of my life. It was the poets society. I hadn't been dating Charlie at the time, but I did know him from my own friends. We were going to the public high school near Welton, and they always dragged me out to go see the preparatory boys. I absolutely hated it. 

"Girls at Welton?!" Charlie always piped up whenever we snuck in, causing an onslaught of 'shhs'. He then would become quieter, smirking at us gaggle of girls. My eyes would always wander to him out of anyone else in the room. Looking back, our whole 'love story' was a cliché, but I suppose it was cute. I mean, that womanizer somehow managed to charm me over. And boy, he won't ever live that down. 

"Dalton, you're an idiot." My best friend Carla always laughed at one of the shortest Welton students, Charlie. He staggered back, putting a hand over his heart, and his jaw fell open.

"An idiot?" Dalton acted all hurt, but of course, we all knew this was an exaggeration. "I'm no idiot! I'm a poet!" He exclaimed with his cocky smile back on his face. He reeked of arrogance. Though, something about this facade that he liked to put up was somehow charming. Though, I found my friendship in a boy named Meeks, Stephen Meeks, to be clear.

I heard his nervous, whispered voice impede Charlie's booming one. "Let's get going before we get caught." Even though Charlie could control any conversation, he seemed to let everyone get a word in. Was it sweet? I wasn't certain.

Everyone agreed on starting the meeting, though many of the so-called poets threw glares and glances to Charlie, which of whom was trying to convince us girls of falling for him over some stupid flowery poem. I wasn't impressed, but some of the girls were.

Meeks looked to me, his face twisted with disgust of Charlie's behavior. I let out a quiet chuckle, which I thought was nothing at all, but immediately, Charlie shifted to me. "Oh, you find this funny?" He asked, one eyebrow cocked. I didn't respond in hopes that he would pass over me, but this seemed to make him want to pursue me more.

His arm quickly rested on the rock above my head, and he leaned in close to my face. He looked at me a moment and could feel my face turning red. "Mm, I don't think you would find this funny." His voice went lower and quieter. I kept my arms folded in front of my body and stared back at him, unmoving. He wasn't going to win. "The skies bleed for her, an auburn mist of silk and tears," I looked away from him once he spoke, but he lifted up my chin with his free hand, making sure I kept eye contact with him. "Transfixed on her..." My heart began to beat more rapidly when he spoke that line. His voice became a whisper, and it felt like he was about to kiss me. "Transfixed on her... I bleed -"

"Stop." I said finally. "Please." I wasn't mad at him in any way, but I was uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but please stop." I could hear the other girls giggle, knowing that I had been enveloped by his charm.

Dalton nodded, backing away from me in an understanding fashion. At first, I was pleased by his reaction—then he spoke. "Sorry, was that too much for you?" His voice was dripping with triumph.

I shook my head and stood up. "I don't care much for poetry." I lied. Quickly wanting to get out of this cave, I picked up my bag. I felt someone tug on it and looked to Carla with a look of confusion on her face. "I'm sorry." I turned away from her and left the cave.

As I was leaving, I heard Meeks speak up. "I'm gonna walk her back -" His voice was calm, but I knew there was anger hiding deep below.

When he finally caught up to me, he apologized on behalf of Charlie. I smiled at Meeks, still pretending like nothing was wrong. "What? No, it's okay." I laughed it off. "It wasn't Dalton, I just, I have a ton of homework I have to get done." I wanted to divert the conversation to something else so badly. "My English teacher -"

"Hey, look, I don't care if you want to pretend what Charlie did wasn't a dick move... I just want to make sure you get home safe." Meeks said. He understood me. He understood that I hated confrontation. He understood that I hated resentment. And most of all, he understood that I loved poetry. Maybe that was the reason I kept coming back.