Chapter Text
Dear Father,
I do not wish to die. You watched me perform on the stage. I had life in my eyes; you cannot deny that. Acting was my one true passion. I yearned to act until the day I died. I enjoyed feeling the power of my words. I thrived off of spitting scorching messages through my teeth. I refuse to live the rest of my life as a doctor. I long to touch people’s hearts with my words, not with a scalpel. My lifespan did not have to be this brief. I may have been happy for another seventy years, but, instead, I am perishing at the raw age of seventeen, because of you. All because of you. I hope you are satisfied. You killed me. You killed my soul. You might as well have been the one holding the gun to the left side of my chest. I do not hate you, though. I cannot leave this earth with hate in my heart. I understand that you despise me, you have clarified that many times before. But, I am willing to die with that in mind, for I have lived my entire life with that fact clawing at the back of my head. As Robert Frost once said, “We love the things we love for what they are.” You have much to learn from that man.
Tell mother that I love her.
Sincerely, Your Son, Neil
Neil analyzed his rushed note about fifty times, even though it was written in pen. The paper was wet with tears, and the corners soggy from tracing his fingers over them. As he scanned over it over and over again, he could not help but think about his mother. She did not deserve this, all she did was try to help him. But, it was too late now. He folded the note 4 times, neatly. His father would not expect anything less.
He still wore his rustic crown upon his head. The twigs dug into his scalp, like thorns pricking a bare finger, but he endured it. This had to be poetic, nobody would understand without dramatic irony. This must be deliberate, people had to know that he knew what he was doing and why. He knew that his father would flinch at the multitude of grammatical mistakes on the paper, but the pen was permanent, just as this would be. A cloth lay on the table. That cloth was covering his escape. An ‘L’ shaped figure poked through the cream-coloured fabric. The window was wide open, so he faced his audience of trees and forest animals. The chair he was sitting on was quite comfortable, it was crafted out of a soft, dark wood, cool against his exposed back. He wanted to take in everything around him. This was the last room he would ever see, the last bookshelf towering over him, the last frigid breeze he would ever feel against his neck. His hand shook as he removed the textile from atop the weapon. He threw the cloth behind him; it flew out of the window, shielding a poor squirrel’s eyes from the morbid scene about to take place.
Why was he so nervous about this? He had nothing to live for anyway, except the poets. Charlie, Knox, Cameron, Pitts, Meeks, Todd.
Todd. His roommate, his best friend.
‘God, how would Todd react?’ Thought Neil. He pictured Todd in the snow, wailing, surrounded by white, frigid, flakes. Still, the gun called to him, like a wisp of sweet wind whispering in his ear. Nothing could talk him out of it now, it was time. He traced his sleek fingers against the lethal device once more before pointing it right to his heart. It was over. It was all, finally over.
He counted to three in his head. Then, he counted to three again. His hand was unsteady, the gun could have slipped out at any moment. But, it did not. Neil steadied his hand and placed his finger firmly on the trigger.
A creak of a floorboard interrupted the deafening silence, followed by a gunshot, along with a bullet lodged directly into the top of Neil’s shoulder. A black cat tilted its head before Neil, for it was the movement of the cat’s paw that caused Neil to miss. His shoulder throbbed and bled, with smoke rising and sneaking into Neil’s nose.
Mrs. Perry adopted an emotional support cat a few months ago; she was lonely without Neil. The cat had emerald eyes with hollow, sharp pupils. That cat saved Neil’s life.
No.
It was not over. The gun still has bullets. He desperately cocked the gun in an attempt to finish the job. He held it to his head now. Fuck being poetic. He wanted it to end, he did not care how. He pulled the trigger once again, but there was no instant relief, only a small jab to his head. No bullets.
It did not matter anyways, he’d bleed out, slowly but surely, and only had to live with the agonising pain for a few hours. He was comfortable enough, sitting in the cushy chair, already assuming the position of a corpse, with his head on his now dislodged shoulder. Only a few hours…
“Neil!” exclaimed his mother from a small distance. The sound of her voice made his body twitch. A single tear welled up in his eye, which he would not dare to open. He could not face life again, he could sit, and rot, and play dead until the real thing. “You’re ok, Neil. He’s ok!” she hollered to Mr. Perry. The man pulled him out of the chair and knocked on his head roughly.
“Wake up!” Mr. Perry pulled him out of the room, and his dear mother dialed an ambulance. Neil opened his eyes for a brief moment. His father had Neil slung over his shoulder, Neil could feel his elbow puncturing his stomach. He could see his mother, phone pressed to her ear, hollering into the speaker. Everything was spinning, fading away. Finally, he slipped into unconsciousness.
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“Do they have a doorbell?” Knox examined the doorframe, brushing his fingers against the chipping wood. The large door had a bronze lion smack in the middle of it, holding a rusty handle in its closed mouth. Charlie rolled his eyes at Knox’s obliviousness.
“There’s a knocker right there idiot.” He smacked Knox in the back of his head. Everyone else was silent, the tension in the air was loud enough. There was a dark cloud surrounding the Perry’s residence that loomed over their heads, sucking them into a black hole of despair.
“I don’t wanna touch that thing!” Knox exclaimed with disgust. The two brown-eyed boys continued to bicker, oblivious to the visible breaths of those around them.
It was frigid outside, probably just under 20 degrees farenheit. A white coat covered the neatly trimmed greenery on the lawn, and a thick layer of black ice rested beneath their shoes. The poets’ lips were blue, teeth chattering behind them. Secretly, Todd was perfectly ok with freezing to death out on the porch if it meant not knowing what was behind the intimidating door in front of him. Mr. Keating advised them not to go there, he said that Neil is ‘perfectly capable of standing up to his parents by himself.’ Though, of course, Charlie made a bold speech about how that was ‘bullshit,’ and now, here they stood. God, Todd wished they just listened to Mr. Keating.
“Can you morons shut up?” Cameron rolled his eyes and grabbed the handle. He muttered something under his breath, something nobody clearly heard, and slammed the handle against the lion's neck. The silence got louder, its presence consuming the thick air. The redhead stopped the banging and stood back. Pitts and Meeks exchanged a look of concern, sharing it with the other shivering boys. After a few minutes of utter stillness, Cameron knocked again. No response.
“No one's home.” Todd whispered. He took deep, shaky breaths, until they turned into frantic pants.
“No one’s home.” He repeated, louder this time. There was really no reason to panic. They could just be driving Neil back to Welton, or maybe going out to dinner, but something about the way the dark cloud turned into a tornado made those possibilities seem impossible.
Meeks took his bulky, handmade radio transmitter out of his bag and held a small red button. The device crackled, making Charlie step back out of fear of getting electrocuted.
“Mr. Keating? Are you there? It’s us. Over.” Meeks held his ear close to the speaker, awaiting a response. Keating accepted the walkie-talkie when Pitts gave it to him, just in case any of them had an urgent question about literature, or just needed to talk.
“Hello boys.” His voice wavered due to the cheap radio. “Don’t panic. Neil’s ok. Well, that’s not exactly true.” Todd’s eyes twitched at Mr. Keating’s ominous statement. Not exactly true? “The Perrys are at the hospital in town, I believe it's named after one of the presidents. I strongly advise you not to go, boys. Come back to Welton, I promise Neil will be ok. Over.” His voice was shaky, especially when he proclaimed Neil’s safety. Todd snatched the device from Meeks’s hands. Tears streamed down his face. This could not be happening. He frantically pressed the button, muttering some gibberish along the lines of ‘no, no, no.’ The other boys held him back, trying to talk sense into him.
“Todd, we have to go back. Todd!” Pitts grabbed the speaker ruthlessly from Todd’s desperate grasp. Meeks put the device into his pack, and adjusted his glasses. The boys exchanged glances while Todd blubbered incoherently. None of them said a word, or moved a muscle.
“Well, I’m going back to Welton.” Cameron began to shuffle down the stone steps. “Who’s coming?” He glanced at the distraught group. “What? I feel bad for Neil and all, but Mr. Keating said to go back, and I don’t think we should disregard direct orders.” The poets glared at him, before Charlie emerged, and walked slowly toward the red-head.
“Do whatever the hell you want. But, if you think any of us are going to come with you, then your a fucking idiot.” Charlie towered over Cameron for a few moments. Fixating on his scared impression until Cameron nodded and jogged away. All of the poets gawked at Charlie, except Todd, who was face down on the pavement, bawling his eyes out.
“Come on, then. Let’s go.” Charlie turned around and treaded into the darkness. The boys scrambled to their feet behind him. Knox was patting Todd on the back, easing him up carefully.
“Wait up!” Knox sprinted toward the others, dragging Todd along with him. “Charlie, where are we going?” Knox rationed. Meeks and Pitts took custody of Todd as Charlie and Knox discussed.
“We’ll figure it out.” Charlie breathed. He seemed like he knew where he was going. His head was up high, and his feet were moving along in a straight line, but Knox lost faith in Charlie’s directional skills when he led them straight into a family of bears on the way to their cave.
“Are we going to hitchhike?” Pitts inquired. He pulled a map out of his small pack. “Because if the main road is right there, then we could probably walk to ‘Grover Cleveland Hospital’ right there.” He pointed to a spot on the map. Knox immediately rushed over.
“How did you get that?” He grilled. Nobody was able to access maps of the town at Welton. The map was small, but had enough information to lead them right to their destination.
“Oh, Mr. Keating gave it to me before we left. He said that he didn’t trust the rest of you guys with it.” Pitts bragged. Charlie scoffed.
“Ya see?! Mr. Keating wanted us to do this. He believes in us. We’ll make it to the hospital, we’ll find Neil.” Charlie declared proudly. Todd’s eye twitched wildly. He was resting on Meeks while he walked, he could not see or stand straight at the moment. But, he could still feel.
“Wait, so are we hitchhiking or not?” Pitts barked.
“No, we’re walking. We’re only a few miles away.” Knox responded. A silent Todd nodded in agreement, even though he was not a part of the conversation. His shoulders were hunched, and salty tears continued to frame his face. He was limping, his knees looked dislocated, and blood soaked through his pants. Falling face first onto a brick porch was not his brightest moment. Meeks was the only one who heard the gruesome crunch of Todd’s kneecaps when they absorbed the impact.
“What if he’s dead?” Todd weeped. The thought was circulating around all of their minds, and was now out into the open.
“He’s not. He can’t be.” Charlie whispered. He was at the head of the group, and nobody could see the moistness of his under-eyes. “We don’t know if… that’s what happened. Maybe he just got bit by a stray dog or something.” Charlie’s voice was in a state none of them had ever heard it before. It scratched like a broken record, yet maintained a softness similar to that of a whimpering of a puppy.
“That’s not what happened, Charlie, you know that.” Todd hissed. He was not mad at Charlie. He was not mad at all. It was a strange feeling, really. It was like a hot metal plate was resting on his chest. The metal was melting, infiltrating his body, trickling from his brain into his toes. But it was too late to take the metal off his chest, for it was gone now, and only bubbling magma remained.
“We don’t know what happened. For all we know he could be completely fine and just have a cough.” Knox broke the tension between the boys.
“Yeah, maybe.” Todd sighed. The air felt colder, suddenly. The trees were still masked with pale sheets, the ice was still filling the air, but the wind was now howling, pushing them in the direction of a tall, white building with a crimson plus sign lining one of the larger windows. The monument was intimidating. It reeked of death, disease, and grief. The sight of it alone triggered another bushel of tears to fill Todd’s eyes.
He was sleeping so well a few hours ago. His plump face was burrowed into his pillow; he was at peace. He thought Neil would come home any second. Burst through the doors with a lop-sided grin. Jump into Todd’s bed and seek validation for his acting skills. Todd knew exactly what he would say. He would laugh and declare with uttermost confidence that Neil was good. Because he was good, he was really good. Neil would sit on Todd’s bed, ranting on and on about his thoughts on the play, and Todd would snicker and nod, and watch, and admire. The scenario was now a foggy vision in the back of Todd’s mind.
“Do you think they’ll let us in?” Asked Meeks. He was standing at the back of the group with Todd. The boys did not make it this far when they were planning, so they just stood in silence.
“Of course they will. I’ll make sure of it.” Charlie winked. He strutted down the path and into the door, and the poets tailed him. Somehow, it was colder inside the hospital than it was outside. The disheveled waiting room chairs were stocked with tired-looking people, all reading newspapers and/or smoking cigars. The paint on the walls was chipping, and the floors were covered in grime. The lighting inside was gloomy, and a scowling clan of nurses waited behind a wide counter. Charlie approached the unnecessarily tall desk with his chin up, and arms swinging by his sides. The society stood awkwardly in front of the door. Pitt and Meeks were holding each other close, teeth chattering in harmony. Knox and Todd were standing side by side, arms brushing ever so slightly, occasionally shooting glances with varying messages.
What kind of stupid stunt do you think he’s trying? Knox raised his eyebrows. He cocked his head toward Charlie in all his glory, dramatically flailing his arms in the direction of the door. Todd almost chuckled at the absurd sight.
I don’t know, but it better work, Todd shrugged and looked back at Knox. Charlie continued to dance around the counter, most likely telling some exaggerated story. He was shaking like a leaf and his lips quivered dramatically. The underpaid nurses scowled at the boy.
What the actual fuck is he doing now? Knox rolled his eyes. There was another few seconds of quiet, only interrupted once by Meeks coughing, when Charlie signaled for the boys to come. The clique shared a quick look before marching over to the rolltop.
Charlie yanked Todd’s hand to bring him next to him.“So, you see here, this is Todd, Todd Perry.” He patted Todd’s back rather aggressively and glowered at him.
“Yes. I am Todd.” Todd, being Todd, stared at the ground, blushing, and extended his hand out to meet one of the nurses.
“So, you see, Todd here, he’s Neil’s cousin, and he really needs to see his cousin there. He’s just, he’s devastated.” Todd understood that he needed to play along, and deepened his normal frown in order to appear solemn. “We’re all Neil and Todd’s very best friends, and we wanna be there for them, you understand.” He smiled at one of the caretakers. This one had pale skin, covered in golden brown freckles. She was short and plump, with a wild mess of red hair atop her head. Her uniform was primarily white, consisting of an ivory dress and hat, red shoes, and a cerulean undershirt. The woman grimaced at the squad.
“Very well, follow me.” She trotted along the crimson carpet, never peeking over her shoulder to check on the rushing boys. For a woman with legs that short, she walked at a shocking speed. The walls were painted a sickly blue. The light color made Todd feel seen. It was sorrowful, but suppressed. The blue felt everything, yet felt nothing as well. The carpet on the floor clashed with the walls, like teal waves rolling onto a bloody shore.
“He’s in room 3737, right?” Knox whispered loudly into Charlie’s ear. Files of numbers were imprinted on the endless hall of doors. 3732, 3733, 3734, 3735, 3736… 3737.
“Yeah, right here.” Charlie stopped abruptly at the final door. The wood was dark and intimidating, splintering at the edges. The boys stood before the door, an anxious Todd at the head of them, for some reason. Meeks took a deep breath, and took a step forward, a step that none of the others were willing to take. He rested his hand on the doorknob, ready to crank it, when the nurse stepped in.
“I am sorry boys, only familial relatives may step into the room.” The ginger nurse smiled unsettlingly. The party collectively contorted into a symphony of scowls.
“Ma’am, I don’t mean to start a fuss, but Neil is our best friend, we need to see him.” Charlie nearly shouted. The nurse shook her head no, severely lacking any apologetic visage. Knox scoffed in the back and opened his mouth, ready to say anything he possibly could to get into that room, but Pitts elbowed him before any sound could leave his throat.
“Again, I am sorry, but I cannot do that. There is a waiting space out there.” The nurse showed the boys to a filthy bundle of chairs in the corner and refused to speak until they all sat down. Charlie was ready to stand up in protest, but the nurse’s commanding facial expression was like a second gravitational pull keeping him in the seat. “Todd, you may go in now.” She nodded. Todd stood frozen for a moment.
“Are Mr. and Mrs. Perry in there?” He asked in a voice quieter than any of the boys have ever heard it. He flinched as soon as he said it. How could Neil’s parents be holding him back from going into that room? Neil was his best friend, and he could not even face his relatives.
“No, they said that they had to ‘sort some things out’.” The nurse understood their aggressive presence and the impact it would have on the small boy. Images of Neil in a fetal position with bandages covering his heart circulated around Todd’s head. Nothing could possibly brace him for the true sight.
“Ok.” Todd opened the door at last, closing his eyes while doing so. He could not face Neil right away, so he started at the floor. The floor was carpeted, but it was beige instead of the maroon carpet tracking down the hallway. The walls were still the same sickly blue, and the ceiling was a dull gray. But Neil, Neil was still the same shining presence that he always was. He was curled up on the white hospital bed, hooked up to various tubes and machines. Todd teared up at the sight. This was his fault. He should have been a better friend. He should have ripped out his own heart and given it to Neil as a display of his adoration, or woken up at the crack of dawn every morning to bow at Neil’s feet. Todd felt ill. There was bile in the back of his throat. Bile that he pushed down, just as he pushed down everything else. He ached to go back in time and do everything differently. Longing clawed at the blonde’s lungs.
“Whoever you are, go away, please.” Neil croaked. He did not indulge in being bitter, but he was not in control of himself at the moment. Todd’s heart stopped when he heard Neil’s broken voice. The mucus returned to his throat. Todd could only see the back of his head, but could make out the paleness of his skin and the thinning of his hair.
“Neil?” Was the only word that he could force out. Todd had verbalized that name too many times to forget.
“Todd.” Neil propped himself up on his elbow and turned around. Hot tears began to burn both of their faces. Neil’s skin was dry, and his pupils were large. Todd’s blue eyes were consumed by heart-shaped voids. He could not bring himself to move, so he occupied a small patch of ground.
“Can I, umm- can I s-sit down.” Todd swallowed. Neil instantly scooched to the corner of the bed, not taking his eyes off Todd. Neil shot himself, survived, and somehow the greatest miracle of the day was seeing Todd. Todd. Neil was utterly infatuated with the boy, he could not ignore that fact anymore, especially now. Todd perched himself at the edge of Neil’s bed. He rolled his knees into his chest, crying into his uniform pants.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Neil wrapped his arms around Todd, filling the space between them that both of them despised. Todd instantly reciprocated, pulling him in closer until their legs were intertwined and chests were pressed together. Their hearts began to beat in sync, thrumming like hummingbirds. “I’m sorry.” Neil repeated the mantra. Todd blubbered into Neil’s uninjured shoulder, not yet comprehending what Neil was saying.
“Don’t say that, Neil.” Todd cupped Neil’s tear-streaked face in his hands.
“I’m sorry.” Neil snivelled. Todd stroked his thumb over Neil’s cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid. Neil melted into Todd’s warm touch. He yearned to lean in closer, to brush their lips together, but it was forbidden. All of his desires were forbidden. He could not be an actor, he could not write, he could not sing, and he could not love the lovely boy in front of him. Todd’s lips were parted and his eyes were wide, but Neil was oblivious to their shared desire.
“You were good up there. You were really good.” Todd sniffed. Neil glowed slightly at his appreciation. Todd was taken aback by Neil’s grin. I love you.
Todd loved him. He loved him so, so much. He loved his eyes, his teeth, his jaw, his hair, his voice, the crinkle of his forehead, the asymmetry of his face, his birthmark that rested above his mouth, his bushy eyebrows, and above all, his lips. God, Todd loved his lips. He loved the way they curved into a lopsided crescent, he loved how they moved rapidly when he rambled about acting, and he loved how they looked right now.
“Thanks to you.” Neil replied. Todd glanced at him, perplexed. “You were honestly the only thing keeping my sanity intact while I learned my lines.” Neil laughed weakly. Todd’s organ’s twisted. He could not sit up anymore. He pulled Neil down gently so they were laying side to side, instead of sitting arm by arm.
“Ow.” Neil whined. His bandaged shoulder hit the bed, and Todd instantly recoiled.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Todd exclaimed. They gazed at each other in lull. Todd could not help but examine Neil’s injured arm.
“I missed.” Neil whispered. Todd nodded. He lied back down and held Neil close. He did not care if it was too obvious at the moment, he needed to feel Neil’s hot skin under his fingertips. “Todd, what are you doing?”
“I just wanna be close to you, that’s all.” Todd felt light radiating off of Neil’s chest. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, but he was not sobbing into it this time. It was frigid in the hospital room, but this moment was too private to call a nurse in and ask for a heater. “It’s cold.” Todd breathed. Neil held him even closer.
“They use body heat in the army, apparently it works wonders.” Neil declared. Todd sniggered under his breath. The two chuckled in harmony, and Todd could feel a gravitational pull grabbing his hand. He ran his fingertips through Neil’s hair, making sure to capture every brunette lock. Neil leered at Todd, who had his arm stretched across Neil’s chest in order to reach his head.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” Todd whispered softly. Neil ogled at Todd, who was now looking back up at him.
“Me too.” Neil’s breath wisped at Todd’s eyelashes. Neil might have imagined it, but Todd’s face was inching toward his, moving a centimeter at a time. Neil was ready now. He no longer cared about society, and its disapproving glares, and its fathers, and its churches, and its teachers. His desire was too strong now. He moved his face along with Todd’s, until their lips were separated by a few dust particles.
“Mr. Perry?” A woman’s voice bellowed from behind the thin hospital door. Todd instantly dove from the bed, landing face down on the floor with a thud. “Is everything ok in there?” The lady cracked the door open, and Todd scrambled to his feet.
“Yes. All right.” Neil nodded frantically, his face brick red. The nurse entered the room, sensing the energy.
“I need to replace your IV.” The nurse approached the warm bed and began fiddling with Neil’s tube. “You are Mr. Perry’s cousin, correct?” The nurse asked the flustered boy. Todd nodded. She acknowledged Todd and continued working on the IV. Neil swallowed heavily. “Are you staying overnight?” She directed the question toward Todd. He stuttered, still blushing.
“Yes.” Neil answered, staring directly into Todd’s wide eyes. “Umm… yes, he’s staying.”