Joie De Virve // Dead Poets Society

09; yawp

a/n: my birthday is tomorrow!!! or today. whenever I post this damn chapter but it's the 22nd. so yayayyayayayyayay. I'm turning 16 and still haven't read my permit book. way to f'ing go Ash. anyways enjoy the chapter. I'm not at home so it's a bit harder to do using the same device to keep it along movie lines so bear with me. btw it's a really long chapter. lots of love, ash❤❤

I sat in my chair shifting and moving as I held the collar up to my neck. I had been trying to hide the hickeys all day and I was a little mad at Neil for how carried away we got last night but every time I mention it he just tells me to show them off so the boys at this school know I'm his but I can't risk a teacher seeing and telling my Grandpa.

Knox stood at the front of the room trying to read a poem about Chris. He was infatuated and it was literally tearing him apart. He couldn't think straight and this was Knox we were talking about. He always had his crap together but now it's like he's broken and he is faultily moving on until Chris gives him the pieces to be fixed. The boys laughed at him as he finished the poem and he gave up right at the last sentence to sit in his seat.

"Sorry captain it's stupid" he apologized before fully sitting down. Charlie patted his back but he was still upset.

"No, it was a good effort. Touch them with the major themes. Love. A major theme not only in poetry, in life" he said walking into an isle. He stopped in front of a boy.

"Mr, Hopkins you were laughing. Your up" he pointed upfront before moving back to his spot on the side of the room. Hopkins stood and walked to the front unfolding a piece of paper.

"The cat sat on the mat" he read aloud. The class erupted into light laugher again.

"Congratulations Mr. Hopkins. Your the first poem to ever have a negative score on the Pritchett scale" the class laughed fully out loud.

"Were not laughing at you. We're laughing near you" Keating said to keep the laughing going.

"I don't mind that your poem had a simple theme. Sometimes poetry can be about simple things like a cat, or a flower, or rain. You see poetry can come from anything with the stuff of revelation in it. Just don't let your poems be ordinary" he said and the class no longer took the poem as a joke.

"Now who's next?" Keating moved back towards the front.

"Mr. Anderson, I see your sitting there in agony. Cmon Todd step up. Let's put you out of your misery" Keating said pointing to the front and Todd was visibly tense.

"I-I didn't do it. I didn't write a poem" he said after a long pause.

"Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing. Isn't that right Todd? That's your worst fear. I think your wrong. You have something inside of you that's worth a great deal" he said before he moved towards the board and started to write.

"I sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world. W W, Uncle Walt. Now for the those of you who don't know a YAWP is a loud cry or yell. Now Todd I would like you to give us a demonstration of a barbaric yawp" he said and the class chuckled as Todd sighed.

"Cmon you can't yawp sitting down, cmon up. Now get in yawping stance" he said as they were fully upfront. While Keating's attention was on Todd. Neil reached over and grabbed my collar trying to tug it down. I lifted my attention towards him and shoved his hand away glaring at him.

"A yawp?" Todd questioned Keating.

"No, not just a yawp. A barbaric yawp!" Keating encouraged.

"Yawp" Todd said dully.