Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this fic...If I DID own the characters, I'd have Charlie all to myself! And Neil would still be alive...and Charlie would be mine...and Mr. Keating would still have his job...and Charlie would be mine…and Chet Danbury would have his but kicked by Knox...and Charlie would be mine…and it would have been Cameron that would have been expelled…and Charlie would be mine…and Todd would have a backbone…and did I mention Charlie would be mine? I did? Oh...Okay! Well then. It's settled. Charlie would be mine if I owned the characters.

The poem is "NOTHING" by me. I'll let you decide whom you want the story to be about. It's certainly NOT about Todd.

You ask me who I am.

I say "No one."

I'm still unsure of this. I saw Todd writing and figured it can't hurt. So, here goes. What do I say?

It's hard to believe Todd's only been here a month. He's melded in with us very well, but he's still so shy; so quiet. Sometimes, I envy him.

I guess that he has a better relationship with his parents than I do, but just the same. He's so quiet. Scared to speak.

But, despite the shy nature of Todd Anderson, he has an idea of who he is. Honestly? I envy that. No one makes him anyone he doesn't want to be.

You ask me how much I'm worth.

I say "Nothing."

I hate talking to my parents. They make me feel so worthless. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe they're right. Maybe I'm not worth anything except to be a little puppet they control forever.

I yearn to break free. The only person (well, adult, anyhow) who has made me feel like I'm worth anything is Mr. Keating. He listens to us and what we dream of. He never makes us at all feel worthless.

Yet, Todd survives in the midst of his folks making him feel worthless. But, the more we speak, the more it's apparent they cherish their youngest son. The more we speak, the more his eyes reveal the worth he really has in his parents' eyes.

You ask me what I am.

I say "Nothing."

I get so frustrated that I can't decide for myself. Every time I want to step out and decide something for myself, it's always vetoed. How can be who they expect me to be when I don't want to be that person?

What if I have other aspirations from life? What if I'm a poet? Not a doctor or a lawyer or a banker or a scientist? What if I'm just me?

Todd's parents seem to not have any sort of life map drawn out for him. He…from all appearances, he has the opportunity to be what he wants. How I envy that.

You ask me what I feel.

I say "Nothing."

The numbness of dealing with it all is…numb? Can I say that twice? I don't feel things anymore. No hurt. No joy (though the appearance of happiness is there).

I don't cry. I don't shout. I don't do anything. I feel nothing anymore. And, like Todd said, that's really sad. Todd shows his feelings. How I envy that!

You ask me why.

I say "No reason."

Why? That's the question I'm always asked. Why? Why don't you do what we want you to do? Why won't you be who we want you to be? Why do you insist on always being your own person? Why don't you follow the rules? Why this and why that.

I can only shrug and say "Not sure."

But, I guess parents are supposed to ask you why, right? Then why don't Todd's?

You ask me what I follow.

I say "Nothing."

I tried to follow the rules, but they often beg to be broken. The others make it so easy. I'm not necessarily a follower…but man! The thrill; the excitement of breaking the rules. It's what I live on and what I thrive on!

This Dead Poets Society is…how can I put it? Amazing! Nothing like what I thought it would be when Mr. Keating talked about it.

Women really swoon.

Still, I look at Todd and envy him. He doesn't show it, but I know deep down inside he knows who he is and he's going to be that person. The person that one day will make the biggest noise for freedom. His freedom. Can't wait for that day.

He knows his worth and he knows how to express feelings (he may stutter sometimes, but he always says what he's fearing…something he learned.) Todd doesn't seek to break the rules, but he never shies away from the chances that arise.

I envy Todd Anderson. He is everything and I am nothing.