"𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓪𝓭𝔂, open your texts to page 21 of the introduction" Keating said sitting at the top of the class, flipping open the book on his desk all of us following in suit. "Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface, entitled 'understanding poetry'?" 

     Nodding to Mr. keating, Neil flipped open the book to the right page and began reading "Understanding Poetry, by Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D. To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme, and figures of speech. Then ask two questions: One, how artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered, and two, how important is that objective. Question one rates the poem's perfection, question two rates its importance. And once these questions have been answered, determining a poem's greatest becomes a relatively simple matter." He read while I wrote 'understanding poetry' at the top of the page in my notebook. Mr. Keating stood and grabbed some chalk.

I lifted my eyes to the figure on my left, when he grabbed his pencil from behind his ear. I shook my head surprised he was writing down what keating was doing before I smiled and turned my attention back to Neil.

"If the poem's score for perfection is plotted along the horizontal of a graph, and its importance is plotted on the vertical, then calculating the total area of the poem yields the measure of its greatness" Keating drew the graph that Neil was talking about and looked back towards him every few seconds.

"A sonnet by Byron may score high on the vertical, but only average on the horizontal. A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, thereby revealing the poem to be truly great." Charlie smirked, leaning back, making me look over at him. He picked up his notebook showing me what he had drawn.

I gave a disapproving look to him when I saw the two drawings of boobs on his sheet. 'You're a child' I mouthed to him as he pulled his tongue between his teeth smiling.

   "As you proceed through the poetry in this book, practice this rating method. As your ability to evaluate poems in this matter grows, so will - so will your enjoyment and understanding of poetry" Neil finished, taking off his glasses while Mr. Keating turned back to us.

He stopped for a moment before speaking "excrement" my head shot up to look up at him with furrowed brows, in my peripheral vision I could see Charlie look up too "that's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. We're not laying laying pipe, we're talking about poetry" he told us.

Knox turned his head back to look at me, a confused look on his face. I shrugged my shoulders and pressed my lips together while he turned back to the front.

"I mean how can you describe poetry like American bandstand? I like Byron, I give him a 42, but I can't dance to it" he told us as I looked down at the page, laughing a bit "now I want you to rip that page" I looked back up at him, a hint of shock etched across my face. He couldn't be serious could he?

"Go on, rip out the entire page" I exchanged a look with Charlie. His face broke into a shocked smile, happy that he would be able to damage school property without getting in trouble. "You heard me, rip it out. Rip it out" Keating repeated. I saw Charlie look down at the page he had been doodling on before moving it aside.

I looked back at my own page contemplating whether or not to rip out the page "Go on, rip it out" Keating said again.

A ripping sound came from my left as I looked at Charlie who was now holding up his ripped out page proudly, everyone turning to look at him.

"Thank you Mr. Dalton. Tell you what, don't just tear out that page, tear out the entire introduction. I want it gone, history. Leave nothing of it. Rip it out. Rip" Keating said,

I looked down at my book, a smile on my face before pulling the first page from it. There was something liberating about it, we weren't following the rules of poetry anymore. We all tore the introductory paragraph from our books. Movement in front of me caught my attention. I looked up to see Pitsie staring at me with a worried look

"This isn't right" he said

"Pitsie" I said placing my hand on his shoulders "Who cares?" I asked him tearing another page from my book. His eyes dropped down to the page in my hand, while he shook his head

"I cant do it Sophie"

The thing about Pitsie was he wasn't like Cameron in the sense that he loved following the rules but he had a thing about destroying something he saw as perfect. He never took the first square of a chocolate bar, so until the first square was gone he wouldn't eat it. It was something that developed over the course of him being at Welton. I found out when the cook brought out spaghetti Bolognese that was laid out perfectly on a plate and he looked like he was going to pass out. Ive had to mess it up for him ever since.

I nodded, understanding before reaching forward and grabbing the book from his desk. I gripped the top of the pages and pulled down, creating a small rip in them. He seemed to let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked up to me and smiled at the same time I held the book out for him to take

He turned back into his seat and a rip sounded from in front of me. He turned back and held up the page in his hand as I looked to him with a smile.

     "Be gone, J. Evans Prichard, Ph.D. rip shred tear. Rip it out" Meeks looked back at us, noticing us all ripping our pages. He smiled, turned back to the front and ripped out his page "I want to hear nothing but ripping of Mr. Pritchard"

     I continued ripping out my pages when a paper ball hit the side of my head. I turned to look at charlie who's eyes were wide, his lips pulled into his teeth, trying not to laugh. I rolled my eyes at him and threw one back, which he caught, as the door to the class flew open and in walked Mr. McAllister.

     "What the hell is going on here?" He asked. My eyes widened and I turned away. My eyes casting over to Charlie who slipped the ball of paper, id thrown, into his mouth.

     "I don't hear enough rips" Mr. Keating said as he walked back in with a trash can. Everyone turned from Mr. McAllister to Mr. Keating wondering what would be said.

"Mr. Keating"

     "Mr. McAllister" they greeted each other, Mr. McAllister standing at the back not knowing what to do.

    "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here" he said, I looked between the two, the dimples on my face threatening to give away the fact I was smiling, I never thought I'd see the day where Mr. McAllister was speechless, but here we were. I looked over to Charlie to eyes were twinkling in amusement, also looking back at Mr. McAllister.

"I am"

     "Ah. So you are" Charlie tried to contain him chuckle when he looked at Mr. McAllister "excuse me" Mr. McAllister said backing out of the class.

     "Keep ripping gentlemen, Sophia." Mr. Keating said, looking at me, making his way down the isles of the desks holding the trash can out for us to put the paper into. "This is a battle, a war. And the casualties could be your hearts and souls" he said as he made it to the back where Charlie and I were.

     Charlie droped the paper from his mouth into the can,"thank you Mr. Dalton" he said. I rolled my eyes at charlie before dropping the pages into the can.

     "Armies of academics going forward measuring poetry" Keating said handing the trash can to Neil who turned and passed it back "no. We'll not have that here. No more of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. Now I'm my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savour words and language" he told us grabbing the can from Meeks.

     I listened to his words, leaning forward a bit. He wanted us to think for ourselves? That was a change from the other teachers who just wanted us to recite words from books and copy and paste them onto pages.

    All our attention was now back to the front of the class where Mr. Keating was standing "no matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world" I smiled to myself as Keating walked down towards us "now I see that look in Mr. Pitts' eye, like 19th century literature" everyone turned to look at Pitsie. I rested my chin on my hand looking towards him too "has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school. Right? Maybe" Mr. Keating turned away from Pitts and looked at Hopkins who was sitting diagonally from Pitts

    "Mr. Hopkins you may agree with him, thinking, 'yes we should simply study our Mr. Pritchard and learn out rhyme and metre and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions" Mr. Keating said looking around at all of us

     "I have a little secret for you. Huddle up" we all looked a bit apprehensive but Keating waved us over "huddle up" he said more determined now. I sat on the front of my desk with hands under my legs. Charlie leaned in close to me with his leg up on pitts chair as he rested his chin on his hand. Everyone else huddling around Keating.

    "We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion and medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits, and necessary to sustain life." He said before looking back at us with pure passion in his eyes

    "But poetry, beauty, romance" I felt Charlie's eyes on me and I turned to look at him "love" smiling at each other we turned back to look at keating "these are what we stay alive for. To quote Whitman : 'O me! O life!... of the questions of the recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless - of cities fill'd with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?' Answer : that you are here. That life exists, and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse" Keating said before meeting Neil's eyes

   "That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse" he turned and looked up at Todd "what will your verse be?" He asked.

✍︎✍︎✍︎

    My fingers skimmed the spines of the books as I looked for the one we were trying to find. I let out a sigh looking back towards Neil who was looking at the opposite shelf

    "It's not over here Neils" I said sighing as I turned and leaned back against the shelf.

    "It has to be here somewhere Phi" he said continuing to scan through the books.

    "Neil we have checked every book, he's not in any of them" I said earning no response. I let out a groan while I pushed off the shelf behind me, crouching down to get a good look along the bottom shelf.

    A red book caught my attention as I pulled it out 'Welton Annual of 1944' I read. I opened it, flicking Through the pages "Keating was not wrong about the hairstyles" I said examine the young boys in the book who were probably in there late thirties now.

     I continued to flick through the pages when a familiar face flashed across a page. I stopped and went back and there he was.

John Charles Keating 'Keats' written under it.

    "Hey Neil, I got it" I said, hearing a shuffle behind me. I felt Neil's presence behind me while I read through the pages. My eyes landing on the last three words

    "Dead poets society?" Neil asked from over my shoulder "what's the hell is that?"

    "I don't know, a club maybe?" I shrugged and flipped through the rest of the pages looking for a club photo but I couldn't find anything. "There's nothing in here on it" I said looking back at him as he put his hand on the top of my back

     "Cmon, let's go show the others" he said before we both went to check it out.

   Margie, was the school librarian. Her son Nathan went to this school a few years back and she got the job through that. I spend anytime i can in the library. We began speaking when I helped her put away extra books that had come in, in my first year.

    We said goodbye to Margie, telling her I'd see her during the week and took off for the dining hall. When we got in everyone was already eating.

     We found the table that the boys were sat at and went over to them. Upon seeing us, Meeks moved up for me and Knox's moved down for Neil, both of us taking seats either side of Charlie.

     "Hey, we found his senior annual in the library" Neil said as I handed the book across to Cameron, who's eyes widened when he looked at Mr. Keating photo. 

      "Listen to this, captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual" Neil said grabbing the food infront of him

     "Cambridge bound, Thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society" I finished as I grabbed a bread roll from the middle of the table.

    "Man most likely to do anything" Cameron read from the page.

    "Thigh man. Mr. K was a hell-raiser" Charlie said looking at me raising his eyebrows impressed to which I reciprocated

     "What's the Dead Poets Society?" Knox's asked from the other end of the table

    "I don't know" Neil replied. Meeks leaned forwards beside me intrigued

     "Is there a picture of it in the annual?" He asked me as I shook my head

    "Nothing. No other mention of it" I told him. He deflated, sitting back.

    "That boy there. See me after lunch" Nolan said making us all snap straight up while Cameron hid the book beneath the table.

✍︎✍︎✍︎

      It was decided that once lunch was over that we would go and ask Keating about the seat poets Society. That's where we were headed right now.

     Todd and I were at the back while the others went ahead. If I wanted to thank him now was the time.

     "Thanks for this morning Todd. I really appreciate it" I said to him as he lifted his head a bit

     "I-It was nothing. Honestly" he said brushing it off when I shook my head

     "You lied and saved my ass Todd. That's a bit more than nothing" I said a bit of a laugh behind my words. 

     "I just assumed you wouldn't want Neil knowing, you know, about Charlie being in you room" he said as I looked up at him a bit "I saw him going in this morning on my way back from the showers" he told me as I nodded.

      "Well thank you again" I said as we got outside. The boys ahead of us caught sight of Mr. Keating and we caught up with them. 

"Mr. Keating" Neil called out and tried again before calling out to him again "Mr. Keating? Sir?" When he got no response again he looked back at us

    "say something" Charlie's said as Neil looked back towards Keating

"O captain, My captain"

      Mr. Keating turned on his heel and faced us as I now stood by Neil. "Gentlemen" he said before looking to me "Sophia" he smiled as Neil held out the annual

      "We were just looking at your old annual" I told him when he took it off Neil.

      "Oh my God. No, that's not me" he said making us laugh a bit "Stanley "The Tool" Wilson. God" he said crouching down as I nudged Neil to ask him

     "What was the Dead Poets Society?" He asked crouching down like Keating had. Keating looked back at us with a smile on his face.

      "I doubt the present admin would look too favourably upon that" he said turning his body towards us

     "Why? What was it?" I asked him making him look up to me

     "Can you all keep a secret?" He asked looking between us. There was a mix of sure, and yeahs as I crouched down, carefully, along with the boys to listen to Keating.

      "The dead poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life. That's a phrase from Thoreau we would invoke at the beginning of every meeting. See we would gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley, the biggies. Even some of our own verses and in the enchantment of the moment we'd let poetry work it's magic" He told us.

It sounded beautiful.

    "You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?" Knox asked making me roll my eyes

     "No Mr. Overstreet, it wasn't just guys. We weren't a greek organisation we were romantics. And we didn't just read poetry , we let it drip from out tongues like honey. Spirits soared, women swooned" he said looking over at me. I raised my eyebrows about intrigued as he continued "And gods were created. Not a bad way to spend an evening, eh?" He asked us as we took it all in. 

     "Thank you, Mr. Perry. For this stroll down amnesia lane. Burn that especially my picture" Mr. Keating said standing and turning away, whistling like he had before. We all stood except for Neil.

      "You think some poetry would make you swoon Soph?" Charlie asked as I stood flattening out my skirt. 

     "As long as its not you reading it" i replied earning a laugh from the others.

    "Dead Poets Society" Neil said from the ground making us look at him

      "What?" I asked my brother as the bell rang signifying that lunch was over. Neil stood up beside me keeping his eyes trained on the lake

     "I say we go tonight" he said making us all look at him.

"Tonight?" Charlie asked as I shifted in my spot

      "Are you sure Neil?" I asked, his eyes meeting mine before Cameron spoke up behind him

"Wait a minute"

     "Everybody in?" Neil asked looking around at us as they looked at him like he was crazy.

      "Where this cave he's talking about?" Pitts asked.  Neil looked down at the journal in his hand

    "It's beyond the stream. I know where it is." He said before turning on the spot

"That's miles"

    "Sounds boring to me" Cameron said as I walked by him

     "Don't go" I said before following Neil and Charlie. Charlie wore a proud smirk and waited till I caught up with them before walking again

     "You know how many demerits were talking Sophie" Cameron said behind me as I stood a bit behind Neil

      "So don't come, please" Charlie said looking back at Cameron.

    "Look all I'm saying is that we have to be careful" he said looking towards me

     "We know that Cameron" I said as he looked over towards Charlie

     "We can't get caught" Charlie turned throwing his arm out a bit with an eyebrow raised

"No shit, Sherlock"

     "You boys there, Sophia, hurry up" Hager called from the doors. That was one of the worst things about being the only girl here.

     Neil turned abruptly almost causing me to walking to him "All right. Who's in" I caught Charlie's eye both knowing each others answers

"Come on Neil, Hager's there-" Cameron started

      "Forget Hager. No. Who's in?" He asked as I smiled at him

     "I am" I said as I received a smile from Neil before Charlie spoke up across from me.

"I'm in" he said, grinning.

     "I'm warning you. Move." Hager shouted again angrier. I looked at Cameron smiling a bit trying get him to agree to which he sighed

     "Me too." Cameron said as Pitsie shook his head over the other side

     "I don't know, Neil." He said walking away from us. I looked at him confused as Neil starting following him

"What? Pitts" I said

     "Pittsie, come on" Charlie encouraged as Meeks spoke up from beside me

"His grades are hurting Charlie"

     "We can help him Meeks" I said looking at the boy.

      "What is this a midnight study group?" Pits asked now jogging a bit faster until Neil hit him on the