History's Repeat

Disclaimer: see chapter 1 or 2

A/N: I decided putting 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' in here since it's a possibility for a school play. Besides, I needed some sort of a subplot, something new – so the school play is a perfect thing for that

Oh, and thanks to those who reviewed the first three chapters

4. Dead Poets Revisited

Chris ducks into her room which she shares with Amy, grinning from ear to ear and bearing with her smells of graveyard and the forest. Amy looks up at her friend with an amused smile.

"There you are, dreamer. Your brother was going to send a search party for you."

"Thanks but no thanks." Chris flings her cloak carelessly on the floor, revealing her treasure with a flourish. "Look what I found."

"'Five Centuries of Verse'?" It takes a few moments for Amy to process the information before she grins. "That's the very same book, right? The one the Poets were using?"

"Exactly." Chris grins, pointing out the names on the list. "Now we can look for certain people on the list here. And we also can add our own names."

"You're not serious." Amy's eyes grow huge, as she snatches the book from the other girl's hands.

"Dead serious," Chris says, twirling around the small room. "Carpe Diem, Amy, Carpe Diem. What other way is better than 'to suck all the marrow out of life'?"

"You're nuts," Amy says with a broad grin. "You've officially gone nuts."

Chris shrugs and flops on her bed, snatching the old book back from her.

"Well, that's a well-known fact of life. I've been nuts ever since I discovered I'm to follow my brother here."

Amy laughs and flops on her own bed as she glances to Chris.

"Anything good in there?"

Chris flips through a few pages and her grin widens.

"Robert Frost," she announces before continuing to read the poem out loud,

"'These pools that, though in forests, still reflect
The total sky almost without defect,
And like the flowers beside them, chill and shiver,
Will like the flowers beside them soon be gone,
And yet not out by any brook or river,
But up by roots to bring dark foliage on.

The trees that have it in their pent-up buds
To darken nature and be summer woods
Let them think twice before they use their powers
To blot out and drink up and sweep away
These flowery waters and these watery flowers
From snow that melted only yesterday.'"

"Uh-huh," Amy says quietly. "I always did love forests."

"Well, now you'll get a chance to visit it," Chris says.

"Hatcheson!" a teacher calls through the wall. Chris sighs.

"Unfortunately, the rest will have to be informed tomorrow," she whispers.

In the morning, Chris gathers her gaggle of friends, and their eyes light up at the news.

"No, seriously?" John says quietly, his eyes glinting. "Five Centuries of Verse?"

"The very same," Chris whispers softly, her own eyes lighting up. "You guys, do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, and I don't really like that idea," Julia says, as she moves away from the group. The rest shrug and dismiss the girl as nothing more than another girl.

"Well, what do you say, ladies and gents," Chris whispers quietly, quickly glancing around. "I say it's high time a certain Society made their return."

"I second that," Alex whispers.

"Motion is moved and seconded," George whispers, as the rest of them snicker. "Now, who's in?"

"I'm in," Chris, Alex, Amy, John, Rojer, and Ana chime together. Exchanging the looks, the group laughs quietly.

"All right then, we need an unofficial leader and a set of rules-"

"We need the leader, but we don't need the rules." Amy rejoins. "Except the one that all members are sworn to secrecy."

"Too right," Rojer says. "I really don't want us to repeat history."

The others laugh uneasily, and shudder, remembering how the last Society had fared.

"Say, anyone found out about Neil Perry or others?" Amy whispers quietly. Chris, intrigued, leans in.

"I did," John says. "All the gang were over-achievers but a certain Mr Charlie Dalton got expelled from the school after his famous 'Call From God" prank. Neil Perry had committed suicide, for which his group and the English teacher of the time, a Mr John Keating, were bearing full blame. One of the members of that Society, a Mr Richard Cameron, had given all the group away the morning after Neil's suicide. Same day, the group was dispelled, and a Mr Charlie Dalton expelled from school, as I said before."

"Well, that's more than we knew anyways," Chris sighs. "At least we know the reason to why Neil's grave is separated from the others. Have you noticed, that the school still doesn't approve of suicides?"

"Yeah, it says so in the Rules of Conduct. Quote, No suicides are permitted, end quote, or something like it," Rojer jokes. The rest laugh then become quiet.

"So, we need more time to discuss that thing," Chris says, as the bell rings. "How does the study session in our room sound?"

The others nod as they pick up their textbooks.

"Oh, jolly, Chem again," Nikkie moans, as the rest of the group push the girl lightly, laughing. The tense atmosphere around the new Poets is dispersed – for now.

Miss Richards is sitting on her desk, as the group scrambles to get the seats. The book on her lap is rather familiar, but they don't get the title until they take the seats.

"Everyone please take a copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' from the shelf, and take your seats."

Chris's eyes light up, and the others shiver uncomfortably.

"The rumor is that this play is jinxed just as much as the infamous 'Macbeth'." The teacher continues. "From what I have heard so far, the actor who was picked for the role of Puck after the performance of the play committed suicide the following night – and that rumor had begun since the last time the play was here, the year 1959, after a young actor playing the role had committed suicide the night after the play."

The students shudder and the teacher grins. "Well, we're here to disperse that rumor and the so-called curse. Hence, I'm giving you the choice of the roles. I already know those of you who are quite capable of acting, so listen carefully."

Miss Richards proceeds to call out several names. Chris keeps her ears up. She wants a role and it doesn't matter which one.

"… Alex Perry and Chris Hatcheson. Now, pick your roles, guys, I know you can find the right one."

Chris grins in relief and goes over to the teacher's desk.

"Ah, you're the brave one," Miss Richards says with a smile as Chris points the role everyone else before her is avoiding. The Puck. "Thus we'll check it out, huh, Chris?"

"That's right, Captain," Chris grins, as she goes back to her seat.

From his place behind her, Alex nudges her slightly. Chris turns to him.

"Are you mad?" he whispers worriedly. "Want to get yourself killed?"

Chris's grin is unearthly, and Alex shudders.

"I've too much things to do to cut it short, Alex," Chris whispers quietly. "Like destroying this idiotic rumor about a play. I mean, this is nuts."

"You are nuts," Alex responds quietly.

"That is a matter of life," Chris states before the teacher calls for them to begin reading the play.

The evening in Chris's and Amy's room, the group is discussing their play and the Society.

"I say we let Chris be our leader," Ana whispers. "She was the one who found the book, after all."

"Wait a second," Alex says, going to the door. A few squeals from behind the closed door is heard as Alex unceremoniously pushes it open and a sound of fleeing feet right after them.

"That wasn't very safe to talk in." he chides Ana quietly.

"Thankfully, they have no idea of what we're talking about,"

Chris whispers, as she continues to sketch another picture. "Anyone seconds the suggestion?"

"Seconded," John says quietly. The others all nod. George sighs before nodding with the rest of them.

"Okay, Chris, you're IT," Amy says as the rest of them, Chris included, giggle.

"Thanks a lot, Amy. Okay, the first meeting is tonight, we meet outside at ten."

"That's after lightouts," a more careful Rojer points out.

"So what?" Chris whispers defiantly.

"So nothing," Rojer retorts quietly. "When are we going to sleep?"

"You and your sleep. You can sleep in on the meeting, we'll wake you up. No other objections?" Chris asks sweetly.

The others shake their heads as in no.

"Brilliant. Now, who else had managed to get themselves stuck in the 'cursed play'?" she asks, and grins as the rest of her friends groan –all of them but John are in.

A/N: up next - the first meeting of the Dead Poets