The Dead Poets

56

a/n: hiii, this is the last chapter before the ending! I added a song again, so if you want to listen & read, just swipe right above! I hope you like it 💘🥰

Graduation was fast approaching. I remember how excited I was just a few months ago. We talked about a leap year— gallivanting around Europe, not a care in the world. We talked about a lot of things— none of which will be happening anymore. It just doesn't feel right doing them without Neil.

I could practically hear Neil shouting at us to just live our lives despite his absence, but I wasn't there yet— and I don't know if I ever would be.

Perhaps one day I'll be doing a mundane task, like brushing my teeth or reading a book, and I won't be plagued with the thought of Neil's death— but until then— travelling, watching our favourite movies, laughing... it just feels wrong.

At least we all got into college— including Charlie.

Neil would be proud.

Meeks received his scholarships, of course, and him and Pitts are both attending the same school. I envy Pitts; who wouldn't want Meeks as a tutor?

Todd, Knox, Charlie, and I, are debating between a few colleges. I know we are supposed to move on, live our adult lives somewhat independently, but I'm secretly wishing we all choose the same school.

Leaving Welton is bittersweet. It holds some of my best and my worst memories. I met Charlie here, I met Neil here, and all of the rest of the boys. I was introduced to poetry, love, and true friendship. But I lost Neil here, and that will forever taint those memories.

I always believed if you look hard enough you could find beauty in the midst of pain. However, seeing the anguish on the faces of my best friends, I realized that maybe I was a fool to think that. There was no beauty in Neil's death. Only ugly, crippling pain and heartache.

But I knew Neil and I knew he would hate for his friends not to love, laugh, and enjoy life. In his letter, he wrote for us to live life to its fullest— which is precisely why I'm beginning to finally feel obligated to do so. I want to make him proud. When he looks down on us, I want him to that know his friends are happy— despite the fact that he isn't here to share that happiness— I just want him to know.

Which is precisely why I agreed to go out tonight.

I can't remember the last time I left Welton after the funeral. We had a few dead poet's meetings after our honorary return for Neil, but it just never felt the same— it never felt right. Thus, we decided to retire the meetings once and for all.

Which is why our new 'hangout' spot soon became the old diner. It had always been a place Charlie and I had shared, but once Knox had his first strawberry milkshake, he insisted we go almost every night.

"Sorry we're late," Knox's breathing was ragged, as he spoke quickly, perspiration dampening his forehead.

"What happened to the two of you?" I chuckle, gazing at a disheveled and out-of-breath Todd and Knox.

"Nothing, just overslept," Knox responds quickly, a little too quickly, earning an irritated glare from Todd.

I cock my brow; "You overslept? It's 8:00 PM."