With an ending comes a new start.
For months after the tragedy, Todd had been a mess. Nobody, including himself, ever thought he'd accept the loss of his best friend and slowly learn to recover, return to normality – or anything close. Little things like waking up and changing into his uniform had become a monstrous chore that he'd dread all through the night. The night was worse. Todd hated the darkness it brought, and although he only ever longed for peace and quiet, the nights were always too silent. He couldn't bear the sound of emptiness and nothingness, and had to cover his ears to enter his own world of silence, which would hopefully neglect the other. Each night was spent mostly sleepless, though he'd drift off into a light and troubled sleep for perhaps two or three hours here and there; just enough to keep him functioning, if that word was even apt. While he was awake, he'd lie there and follow marks on the wall with his eyes that were so tired and dull and free of any spark that may have been there once. He couldn't bring himself to turn and face the empty mattress that had once been the home of a sleeping Neil, or a working Neil, or a Neil that would stay up through the night rehearsing lines.
Loneliness bore into him like a sickness he couldn't escape. He'd lost the one person, the one thing, in the world who'd introduced some sort of sense and enthusiasm into the life he'd felt had been nothing more than a trap or a cage. Neil would say that it was there all along; his courage, potential and happiness – he just needed a push. But Todd knew that Neil Perry was more than a mere trigger. He influenced, changed and shaped his entire views and opinions of almost everything he'd known. And for the better. For that, he was thankful, grateful. The death of his best friend, however, had caused Todd to curl in on himself all over again, almost forget any worth he'd discovered in himself.
The absence of Charlie Dalton and Mr Keating didn't help. The group had fallen apart, were no longer any sort of society. Cameron kept to himself now. He didn't dare approach Todd or any of the other boys, and any time Todd did come across him, he'd bow his head further into the book he was studying from. Meeks and Pitts remained together and close as usual, but barely left their room when there were no lessons. Of course, they'd both speak to Todd, but only briefly.
Knox was the person Todd saw most. Both were having a difficult time and rarely brought up what had happened and what was going on, but they still spoke, still studied together, and Knox would occasionally offer Todd some sort of reassurance, either through a smile or a shoulder pat, to suggest that things would look up. It was hard to believe that though, from a boy whose face had grown pale and the dark rings around his eyes told of sleepless nights. But they were in this together, and that brought Todd some comfort.
Charlie wrote often, to each of the boys, but more frequently to Todd and Knox. His letters would vary in length; sometimes they'd be short and quick, as if rushed, for whatever reason, but other times he'd send pages at a time, as though he'd finally had a chance to sit down and write, or as though his mind had kick-started all over again and words finally reached him. Todd understood the difficulty in writing to them. What was there to say? Charlie wasn't doing anything to speak of, apart from spending his days at home wondering what his father would eventually decide to do with him, and the routine at Welton was just the same as always but somehow more depressing and longer than ever. But Charlie spoke of meeting up in the future, hopefully not too long from now, and as he rarely mentioned Neil or the Dead Poets Society, Todd supposed that'd be the first thing from his mouth if they were ever to see each other in person again.
The months after Neil's death were nothing short of Hell. Winter seemed to stay and snow covered the world, bringing cold and darkness with it, to match Todd's disposition. Hope was just as rare as sunlight during these somber months. Todd had none, and this appeared to be a mutual thing with the boys he'd not long ago laughed and danced and cheered with, after Neil's first, last and greatest performance. It became apparent that Neil was the flame that had brought light to Todd's world, and Todd had stupidly abandoned the fact that all flames withered and burned out eventually. In Neil's case, the fire had been extinguished too soon, ahead of time and prematurely. His loss was a great one, a loss that shook his whole being.
Spring came as a surprise. Todd had forgotten that seasons other than winter existed, and that the ground was able to sprout green grass and flowers of all colours and sizes. It was as though he'd woke up one morning to a world that was changed. The sky was blue and peppered with clouds that looked ready to burst and let fall spring showers to freshen the earth.
With it brought a sense of new starts and beginnings, and although Todd could barely believe it, he found himself spending more time daydreaming about Neil and recalling certain memories and moments they'd shared. His mind had been stuck on the tragic end of Neil Perry, and seemed never to move forward or back, forever recounting the events of finding out and the darkness that came after it. But now, although it hurt his chest and stung his eyes, his brain was opening up, allowing certain images and sounds back in that he believed had gone forever. Like the time he'd been put on the spot and encouraged to create poetry in front of the whole class, and afterward, Neil had come to their bedroom and praised him and looked so genuinely happy and proud. And the time Neil had got the part of Puck and spent all night talking about the rehearsal and the moment they called his name out to confirm he'd become a part of the cast. He found himself smiling more and more to himself, remembering Neil's voice and familiar expressions and the way their room never felt lonely when Neil was in there too, by his side.
It was a few weeks into spring when Todd realised what he must do, in order to honour himself and honour his best friend who had left too soon.
Neil wouldn't want him to mope around and lose himself once again, not after all he had achieved. Mr Keating's last day had revealed his true courage, when he called out and stood up for the man and everything that he believed in and everything that was right and true. He had climbed up on his desk, despite Nolan's protests, and caused a mini classroom rebellion, that fought with peace and righteousness for independence and creativity and new ideas and Neil Perry. In that moment, there was no going back and Todd didn't care for the consequences or for anything that may come after, just the sheer desperation he felt in that moment to be bold and right, and to praise his friend whom he mourned so deeply, and the man who was blamed for that loss, who merely led the way to freedom and instilled ideas of a world extraordinary.
And now, as he sat at his desk, he considered that moment and as though it had only felt like a dream before now, Todd punched through to reality and remembered it was he who had stood there and called out to Captain first. He who had been brave and reveled in the memory of Neil and thought about what his friend would do in that situation, and realised he'd do the same. Todd wondered if Neil had looked down at that precise second to catch what had happened, and if he had, he knew he'd be proud, just as Todd had always been proud of Neil. Proud of his courage and relentlessness and his desire to be free.
Todd decided to fix things. He was more optimistic than he had been since Neil's death, but he wasn't foolish – he knew that there was no such thing as a quick-fix, and each sequence in slotting things back together would come in gradual steps that he could only wish to hurry. But he was certain that it was not impossible. Todd was no longer angry at Neil for leaving him. Nobody but Neil could understand how he felt in the moment, and the desperation which he must have experienced to push him in that direction. Neil believed he was trapped, and perhaps he was. He deserved more but would never get it. He'd never be appreciated by those who were able to offer him his freedom, as though he even needed their permission. But Todd, the other boys and Mr Keating would forever remember him and would count themselves lucky for every token of Neil they received and every fraction of his person that they would cherish for as long as they lived, until they joined him again, hopefully in a paradise like nothing on this planet.
He would never be able to shake the anger he felt towards Mr Perry and Nolan and the entire school system – but that would be something he'd have to deal with, learn to live with. In the meantime, he'd think only of how he loved Neil and how fortunate he was to have made a dear friend like him.
Neil wanted to make the most of life and do what he loved, and that's what Todd would do. He would create and write and feel and produce pieces of written art directly from his heart. No matter what happened and what he had to do first, he would get there in the end. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most of every second and pursue your dreams.
Todd had to start with himself, before he could help the others. Once he was feeling better, he would negotiate the topic of conversation with Knox and, whether the other boy liked it or not, he'd talk about Neil and encourage Knox to do the same. He'd listen to Knox, and he'd comfort him in all the ways he knew how. He wouldn't stop until Knox was off visiting Chris again and regained his title as the biggest romantic in the state. Until he muttered 'Carpe Diem' as he carried out a gesture that got his heart racing and his blood pumping; an expression of his bravery and determination. And Meeks and Pitts? He'd do his best to spend more time with them, even if they didn't seem keen. All he could do was ask if they'd invented anything recently, and hope it'd get them thinking. At least they had each other. Todd would instigate a meet up with Charlie Dalton, much to his surprise, probably, having been the one to always arrange these things alongside Neil. The two leaders of the group. And he would have that much needed conversation about Neil and the Dead Poets and the future and how much he needed Charlie's friendship, and was sure that Charlie needed his too, no matter how carefree his mask appeared to be. Underneath it all, Charlie was just as fragile as the rest of them.
Finally, Richard Cameron. Todd would talk to him too. He didn't underestimate the fear and pressure of conformity, and nearly every student at Welton had parents who had already planned out their future for them. Cameron had said some foolish words and words that hurt Todd and denounced Neil's memory, but Todd had seen that his eyes were afraid, that could not be mistaken. Perhaps he would tell him that it is okay and all is forgiven, and leave it at that. Peace of mind on both sides.
All of this would come, in time. But for now, Todd would have to take things slowly.
It was raining but it was bright outside. A Saturday afternoon at Welton, and no work to do and nothing to catch up with. A rarity, but a pleasant one. Todd left Knox at the library to finish an assignment he'd been working on all week, and entered his own bedroom, closing the door behind him. It was quiet in the rooms surrounding his own. Most boys were in the Study Hall or even outside, playing soccer, despite the falling rain. Todd spent a moment with his back against the bedroom door, his frame ever so slightly slouched, but in no way portraying his mood which was surprisingly uplifted and spirited.
He grabbed the pillows from his bed and transferred them over to Neil's mattress instead. Propping them up behind him, he sat down on the bed that had no covers or sheets anymore, just the bare mattress that had once stolen Neil's shape. This was the first time Todd had sat on Neil's bed since the evening of his performance, when he had been getting his clothes together and Neil was already at the theatre, probably revising his lines. He wasn't scared now. His hand reached out to touch the wall that Neil had undoubtedly spent moments at a time staring at, in all states. Happiness, sadness, despair, contentment, drowsiness. After tracing lines and cracked contours that marked the wall, he busied his hand with his pen and opened up his notebook for the first time in months.
Just as the rain clattered down in random patterns and splashes, words spewed from Todd's pen in the form of thick, black ink, to knit together his first verse of the year, and the first opening of a poem since Neil's death. Once he reached the bottom of the white page and turned over to fill a new one, he knew that everything would be okay.
Forgotten is not your destiny,
And your timeless death was not your ill-fate.
For your memory will linger endlessly,
And your beautiful soul I'll celebrate.
Seasons change and rain will fall
On the ground you once reigned over.
But droplets will not wash you away,
The sun will shine and flowers will grow and you, the four-leafed clover,
Will not wilt nor fade and in the breeze you swish,
To grow and serve, inspire and breathe,
And in our hearts, a loving seed and bud, you will flourish.