unscripted | dead poets society ✓

02 | angels with no wings

     PRESLEY THOUGHT SCHOOL was overrated. Although she thought a lot of things were, school was by far the most overrated. And as she walked down the halls of this wretched and dispiriting place, she regretted her childhood wish to go and attend school.

     She finally reached Mr. Keating's quarters, closing the door behind her as she shot him a glare the moment they lock eyes. "Why'd you leave me to wander by myself? Mr. Nolan introduced me to a parent."

     Mr. Keating chuckles as he looks over at the girl with amusement. To him, Presley was humorous and full of priceless treasures. But the girl never saw that in herself, to be honest, she never saw herself at all.

     "Well that's good, then!" Mr. Keating says, turning back to look at the paperwork on his desk. "Have you settled in your room?"

     "Captain, don't ignore me." A stressed Presley says, who was now looming over Mr. Keating. "I'm practically dying here."

     "Come on, where's your enthusiasm? A few months teaching a classroom full of boys is not as hellish as you think it is." Presley presses her lips into a thin line upon hearing Mr. Keating's response. She was not satisfied at all.

     "Why did you call this place Hellton then?" At this, Mr. Keating bursts out laughing, which caused Presley to narrow her eyes at him. In her peripheral vision, she sees a sandwich on the side of Mr. Keating's table. Without hesitation, she grabs it and takes a huge bite out of frustration.

     "Hey! That was my turkey sandwich!" Mr. Keating exclaimed upon seeing what Presley had done to his poor sandwich. Presley only stuck a tongue out of him, to which Mr. Keating responded with crossing his arms across his chest. "By the way, classes will be starting soon."

     Presley groaned in response, her eyes rolling to the back of her head in annoyance as she stomped towards the door, the turkey sandwich almost finished. "And what do you plan to do for a lecture? Since you're not exactly all that predictable when it comes to your class."

     Mr. Keating smiles at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes that Presley knew all too well. "Just wait by the trophy display." Presley only narrows her eyes at the teacher before taking another bite from her sandwich and exiting Mr. Keating's office.

     By the time Mr. Keating's english class for the day was supposed to start, Presley had already memorized every nook and cranny this Hellton had to offer, which was nothing much. Finishing up the last of the popsicle ice cream she got as a request from the kitchens, she scanned the trophies and picture frames inside the glass case.

     Meanwhile, the students had settled down on the seats they chose in the English classroom. Everyone was still noisy since there was still no teacher in front of them, when Knox decided to have a little fun to himself.

     "Hey, Spaz! Spaz!" He whispers out loud. The boy 'Spaz' turns around, only to be greeted by a paper ball thrown by Knox, hitting him square in the face. All the boys who saw the scene unfold burst into laughter, as Cameron, who sat behind the poor kid, only shrugged at him.

     "Brain damage!"

     Neil had to admit he was as excited as ever. He doesn't remember being this excited over a mere English class.

     Unknowingly to the rowdy kids, Mr. Keating had been peeping behind the door, watching them settle down in their seats. After deciding that this was his cue to enter, he starts humming the 1812 Overture as he strode in, resulting in everyone quieting down.

     He walked through the classroom and through the other door without a single word, which made the students look at each other in confusion with no idea as to what Mr. Keating wanted them to do. Poking his head to look back at them, he says, "Well, come on."