Graveyard Letters

Disclaimer: I don't own Dead Poets Society. Well, except the DVD of course.

Christmas One

Todd stared miserably into his bowl of lukewarm soup. If Hell is other people, he thought, Hell would be the people who will be at the Danburry's Christmas Party. It wasn't a nice thing to think, but to Todd, it was the truth. He had absolutely no desire to go to that party, where he would probably see the Camerons, and Mr. Nolan, and God forbid…Mr. and Mrs. Perry. Todd honestly didn't know if he could stand it. If only I could have explained that to my parents, he thought bitterly, as he prodded his still uneaten soup with a spoon.

"Todd, are you going to eat that?" Jeffrey was at the kitchen door. Of course. "Probably not," Todd mumbled, without looking up. "I'm not hungry…" "You really need to eat something," Jeffrey insisted, as he moved to sit at the table across from Todd. "You've spent nearly all of break moping around in your room, Todd. It's not good for you."

Todd knew his brother was just trying to be well intentioned, but he couldn't help but feel annoyed. "I h-haven't been moping. I've been reading and writing and…." "Not to mention drinking all the orange juice and hot tea we have in the house," Jeffrey added. "I've had a cold!" Todd protested. "I know, I know," Jeffrey said, "but I can't help but be worried about you. Dad told me that you asked not to go to the Danburry's party." "Can you h-honestly blame me?" asked Todd. "I m-mean…don't mom and dad r-realize why I don't want to go? I know Dad insists that my staying at home would be 'discourteous, and horribly embarrassing for our family', b-but Jeff, I c-can't go to that party."

Jeffrey sighed, and got up from the table. "Sometimes you've got to do things you don't want to do, Todd. Just take a few deep breaths. Calm yourself down. Go to the party, answer all the boring questions they ask about your studies, and enjoy the free food. You'll be all right. I promise."

As Jeff left the kitchen, Todd yet again looked down and poked at the soup. Jeffrey only wanted to help, and Todd knew that, but it was hard to explain to someone that a Christmas party had the potential to trigger an emotional breakdown.

"Todd!" He heard his mother call from the living room. "We're leaving in just a few minutes!" Todd groaned. One last desperate attempt to stay home couldn't hurt, could it? "Can I p-please not go? I haven't eaten anything all day!"

It didn't take long for Todd to realize he had said the wrong thing. His father was standing in the kitchen door, clearly unhappy. "Well, that's your own fault, Todd. I already told you. You are going to the party, and that is final." Todd's mother, who had walked into the kitchen as well, tried to take a gentler approach. "Your friend Knox will be there," she said. "Don't you want to visit with him?" "Knox came by and gave me another box of tea yesterday, mom," Todd said. "So I've already seen him. And b-besides…I'm sure he understands why I d-don't w-want to go!"

At this point, Mr. Anderson was completely fed up. "That's enough, Todd. No more arguing. Put your shoes on, and get in the car." Todd, not wanting to upset his father any further, did as he was told.

That's how Todd later found himself wedged on a couch in between Knox and Cameron, as the three of them were practically interrogated by Mr. Nolan. "So, boys. I take it your studies are going well? Remind me again what your majors are." Cameron nodded. "Pre-law, sir." "And how is Harvard treating you, Mr. Cameron?" "Excellent, sir." Wow, Todd thought. Cameron certainly hasn't changed one bit. "What about you, Mr. Overstreet?" "Pre-law as well, sir," said Knox. "I'm liking it all right."

"And you, Mr. Anderson?" Todd had been hoping that Mr. Nolan would just ignore him, but he knew that had just been wishful thinking. "E-English," Todd muttered. "I'm f-focusing on literature and journalism." "Well, I suppose journalism is a decent career," Mr. Nolan told him, "particularly for someone who doesn't talk much." Todd felt himself turn bright red. This whole situation was embarrassing, but he figured it could be much, much worse. "Did any of you join any clubs this semester?" asked Mr. Danburry cheerfully, as he strolled into the living room and sat on a couch next to his wife. "I've started debate team," Cameron said, with a somewhat smug look on his face. "We've already won all of our competitions this year."

This sent Mr. Overstreet reminiscing. "You ought to join debate team, Knox. I still remember when Joe and I were on debate team together at Yale. It's a good time." Mr. Danburry nodded in his agreement. "Some of the best times I remember," he mused. Knox looked slightly exasperated. "I've told you, dad. I don't really want to join debate team." Mr. Overstreet sighed. " We've talked about this, Knox. You have to do more than play intermural soccer!" "Well," Knox began, "I actually did agree to help the Literature Society with their Valentine's Day fundraiser. We're selling handwritten love poetry to idiots who can't write it themselves…."

For the first time in days, Todd found himself laughing aloud, imagining all the poor people who would be getting Knox's ridiculous love poems for Valentines Day.

Chris, who had been sitting next to Knox all this time, leaned over, giggled, and kissed him on the forehead. "Fortunately for me, my boyfriend actually does write his own poetry." Chet, who was sitting across the room, glowered a little bit. He still wasn't entirely over his old girlfriend dumping him for Knox.

"Are you in any clubs, Todd?" Mr. Overstreet asked, rather amiably. Everyone at this party was so cheerful. It was driving Todd half insane. "Certainly not debate team," Cameron muttered under his breath. This didn't bother Todd much, as Cameron had always been a prick. "I'm writing for the school paper and the literary magazine," Todd said. By the looks on people's faces, everyone was massively surprised that Todd actually did anything.

"All of this writing," said Mr. Overstreet. "Well, at least you boys aren't reading poetry in a cave any more…" Knox and Todd gave each other an uncomfortable look. This was not where they wanted this conversation to go. "That whole ordeal was a ridiculous whim," Cameron said, "and I think we all realize that now." Todd shot him a glare, and without caring that the adults were watching, he momentarily snapped. Someone had to, since Charlie wasn't there to do it himself. "You know that's not true, Cameron."

Now, everyone was really staring at Todd. Most people haven't experienced one of my outbursts, Todd thought. Well, Knox, Cameron and Mr. Nolan have, but any time I do something like this, I still take people by surprise.

Mr. Anderson had a look of utter embarrassment on his face, and he was the first to break the silence. "I'm so sorry about this," he said, and looking at Mr. and Mrs. Danburry, he said, "You will have to excuse me and my son for a moment."

Todd gulped as he got up from his seat and followed his father into the kitchen. His hands felt clammy, and his breathing was getting somewhat erratic. He really had no desire to talk about his 'little outbursts', because he knew that could only lead to disaster. He was sure the Danburrys didn't want a vicious argument to break out at their Christmas party.

"We've talked about this kind of behavior, Todd!" Mr. Anderson was less than thrilled. "I have no idea why you insist on acting like this, especially in public, but what I really don't understand is how you, of all people, still seem to think this…this…rebellion is healthy! Your mother and I did not bring you so you could behave like this. You know better." Todd knew he could just mumble an apology, and everyone would go on pretending like nothing had happened, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. "W-well, m-maybe if you actually had r-raised me as if you cared about me, I wouldn't act like this!"

Mr. Anderson looked as if someone had punched him in the face, and it was in that instant that Mrs. Danburry opened the kitchen door. "Is everything all right?" she asked. "We could hear some shouting, and everyone was a little worried…Mr. and Mrs. Perry are here, by the way. You must have missed the doorbell ring, what with the arguing…"

Todd, who had turned a sick shade of white at those words, mumbled, "I-I'm j-just going to step outside." He made a dash for the back door, clearly gasping for air. "Is he going to be all right?" asked a concerned Mrs. Danburry. "Oh, he'll come around," assured Mr. Anderson, who had no desire to feel more ashamed of Todd's behavior. "He just has his moments. I'll chat with him later. "

Todd, who was still running on a completely empty stomach, vomited a pool of bile on the Danburry's driveway. He wiped his mouth, his sweat and his panic subsiding. He knew he couldn't go back in to the party, because if he did, he would completely lose it again, and no one wanted any more of that. I know where I'm going to go, Todd thought. He was going to go pay a visit to the one person he needed now more than anyone.

The cemetery was vast, cold, dark and snow covered, but Todd quickly found what he was looking for; a headstone with the name Neil Perry etched into it. Todd bit his lip, trying to stop himself from bursting into tears. How stupid had he been, thinking he would come here to talk to Neil when Neil was…was…dead. It wasn't as if Neil could talk back. Todd plopped down on the grass next to the gravestone, and started to cry. None of this is okay, Todd thought. Neil should be alive, and we both should be happy, and I shouldn't have to deal with this every time I come home…and…and…I just wish I could say something to him! Then it dawned on Todd. He wouldn't say anything. He would write it! It felt a little silly to him, the idea of leaving a note on a gravestone, but for some reason, it made him feel a little better; it was almost as if Neil was his pen pal in some far off State.

Todd always kept a little pen and notebook in his pocket, just in case he was struck with inspiration. Or, in this case, a time when he needed to spill out his feelings to a dead person. He took out the notebook and pen and began to write:

Dear Neil,

You used to be the one thing that made living here somewhat bearable, and now, in a twisted way, you're the one thing that makes it unbearable. I don't mean to sound angry with you. I'm not exactly. Well, maybe I am. A little. You told me you loved me. And then you were gone, which absolutely destroyed me. No one had said the words "I love you" to me in years until you said them. That meant so much to me, Neil. I don't think you realized just how much. You took such good care of me, and I feel a little guilty, because I wish I could have taken just as good care of you. But you never gave me the chance. I think that's why I can't help but be a little angry. Anyway, I went to the Danburry's Christmas party tonight. It was awful. I ran out when your parents got there. And Knox is participating in some Valentine's Day fundraiser where he gets to sell his terrible love poems. Can you believe that? Well, Merry Christmas, Neil. I miss you...a lot.

Much Love,

Todd

"Hey," a voice said. Todd, who had just torn his letter out and placed it on Neil's grave, was completely taken by surprise. Maybe ghosts actually do speak in cemeteries, he thought. That would be kind of…creepy. Todd knew better though, and when he looked up, he saw the concerned face of Knox Overstreet. "I thought you'd be here," said Knox. "I guess you didn't notice my car pull up." "I didn't," Todd told him. "But I'm glad you came. Where's Chris?" "She stayed at the Danburry's," Knox said with a shrug. "She figured I should come talk to you alone. And besides, she doesn't have the same problems around Mr. Perry that we do…" He trailed off, and then started to speak again. "I stopped at the store and bought flowers," he said, holding up a couple of roses. "I figured it would only be right…" He stooped and put the flowers next to Neil's grave. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at the letter. "Something I wrote," Todd told him. "I'm guessing you would rather me not read it," Knox said, and Todd nodded. It was a private letter. Not to mention, Todd thought with just a hint of amusement, it insults Knox's poetry…

"Well," said Knox, putting an arm around Todd's shoulder. "Why don't we ditch the party and go catch up over a beer or two?" Todd, who thought this was a more than welcoming suggestion responded with, "most definitely."

So, the two Dead Poets walked out of the graveyard ready for a much-needed evening of sucking the marrow out of life.