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The snow had settled once again on the grounds of Welton academy. The winter had fallen swift and silent, just like it did every year. The lake froze over just like it had the year before, and to an outsider’s eye, it looked as though everything was exactly the same, and all was as it should be. But in the halls of Welton, down the corridor where the final year boys slept, there was one room with an empty bed. The emptiness of that bed hung over the school like a cloak of darkness. In the year that had passed since the previous winter, everything had changed.
The air that Sunday evening was crisp and cold, the kind of cold that pierces through skin right to the bone. The common room was empty, only two boys sat in armchairs by the fire. The silence was deafening, but neither boy wanted to be the first to speak. The past year had never been easy, but the snow had sent Todd and Charlie, the other poets too, spiralling back into the events of last December. The snow brought memories of Neil, of the night of the play, of the snowball fight they had on the walk home whilst, unbeknownst to them their best friend was at home ending his own fight, of breakdowns, of frozen vomit, of a funeral that never should’ve happened. That night Todd and Charlie couldn’t escape the icy grip of the shadows of the past, and so they had come together to sit by the fire and see if the warmth could heal their aching souls.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it? The snow.” Todd said, staring blankly out the window, and out over to the lake. His words caused Charlie to stop breathing for a moment, for Todd spoke like an echo of himself from the year before, from when he found out about Neil.
“Yeah, I guess.” Charlie managed to choke out, fumbling in his pockets for his cigarettes, desperate to fill his lungs with something other than the tension in the air. His cigarette was lit, and he’d taken that first, glorious drag before Todd spoke again.
“Its been almost a year since the play,” Todd said, the sadness evident in his voice “It’s weird that so much time has passed.” Charlie remained quiet, focusing on his cigarette instead of the topic of conversation. “Despite it all, he was good.”
“Really Good,” Charlie interceded, taking yet another drag of his cigarette, “he’s always been someone people listened to, that’s just Neil” Todd was acutely aware of his refusal to use the past tense, but decided not to push it,
“I know he could’ve made it. Keating knew it too,” Todd still looking out to the snow as he spoke. “I wish he’d been given the chance.” Charlie’s brain raced listening to Todd reminisce, he knew they were hurtling towards the topic of the death, and Charlie couldn’t face it, not now, so he quickly tried to steer the conversation out of the danger zone.
“Second best speaker in the poets,” Charlie attempted to joke “second to me of course, he never quite made the ladies swoon the way I did, we should get back to the cave sometimes, I’ve been off my game lately.” He didn’t mean what he said, he knew Neil was the best, and he knew if Neil had wanted the girls, he could’ve had them, but he never had done, Charlie himself hadn’t even really wanted them, not even then. He took another shaky drag from his cigarette, willing his nerves to calm down.
“The society wouldn’t work without Neil, it was all his idea” Todd said, his voice strangled, “Or Keating. Nothing works as well without them; I miss them both” His eyes once again turned to the frozen lake. “The room is so empty without him, sometimes I wish someone had moved in, but no one wants to sleep in a dead man’s bed.” Except me, he thought, secretly inside his head, thinking of the nights he shuffles his blanket over to the stripped bed and tries to trick his nose into finding the very last traces of Neil’s scent.
“Neil can’t be replaced, it’s still his room, fuck his goddamn school really.” Charlie said, with a little more fire than intended. His eyes pricking dangerously, as he tried to keep it all together. “No one wants the room because its still his, you should know no one can take his place.”
“I know. Neil was one of a kind.” Todd whispered, in an attempt to be reassuring. Feeling a sudden burst of courage, he continued “I loved him Charlie, and I think he loved me too, he took a part of me with him that night, you know, when he left us. I’ll never get it back, but I think I’m ready to stop trying to chase after it.” He felt vulnerable, but relieved as he finished, looking Charlie in the eye, to make sure he had understood the words he had said. Todd had dealt with a lot of his grief, but he seldom thought about the way he had truly felt for Neil, let alone spoke about it to his friends. In truth, Neil hadn’t been his friend at all, not really.
Charlie let out a shaky breath as he put out his cigarette, “I loved him too,” he whispered, “Not in the same way but, he is, fuck was my best friend.” He started to blink rapidly; tears falling swiftly down his cheeks. The week Neil had died, Charlie had been a mess, he hardly stopped crying, but then something shifted. His eyes dried up and his emotions got confined to a box in the darkest corner of his mind, a box to be ignored, a box to be avoided at all costs. He’d gone through the year like a ghost, making the same jokes, but his smile never reached his eyes anymore, smoking instead of feeling. He avoided speaking of Neil as he was, gone and in the past. But now, the box had been opened, and as Charlie started to cry, he wondered to himself if he would ever be able to stop. Neil was dead, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He felt a hand touching his back, and he felt it stay there, rubbing soft circles onto his back, as he choked out strangled sobs, keeping him grounded to earth. After what was only minutes, but felt to Charlie like forever, the tears finally ceased and he looked to his left to see Todd standing next to him, hand still on his back. He tried, out of habit, to force a shaky smile, to once again put up his front that he was fine, as if he hadn’t been crying in his arms just mere moments ago.
“Charlie,” Todd said, softly, scared that he would break the other boy if he spoke too loudly, “are you, okay, really?” He looked to the other boy with eyes full of sympathy, still reeling from watching his normally so guarded friend, break down his walls with such force.
“Dammit Todd,” Charlie breathed out in a shaky laugh, “the name is Nuwanda.” Todd let out a small giggle, but didn’t remove his gaze from Charlie’s face, his eyes willing the boy to go on.
“Well is Nuwanda okay?”
Charlie decided to give in at this point, Todd had already seen him cry, and he couldn’t face building up his walls again, he couldn’t keep it boxed up any longer. He had come to realise he was far too weak. “No, he’s not. I don’t think I have been ever since, well ever since Neil died. Fuck. It’s hard to say.” His lips quivered as he spoke, “I don’t think I ever let Neil go, and now I don’t know how, I thought I could ignore it forever, but now the goddamn snow is back and it’s all too much like last year.” His breathing was laboured as he spoke, and his hands shook, this was the most open he’d been in a year and it scared him down to his core. His hand reached for another cigarette, but he was met there by Todd’s hand.
“Come on,” Todd said, forcing Charlie to meet his eyes, “The snow really is beautiful, we should get outside, go on a walk.” Charlie gave him a puzzled look. “It’s hard, being here, going on without Neil, but we have to, he’s gone but we are still here. This is probably stupid, but I like to look at the stars and imagine he stere, it hurts less to let go that way.” Todd started to wring his hands together, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, worried Charlie wouldn’t understand he was trying to help.
“No, Todd that’s not stupid.” He turned to glance out at the snow as he spoke, “Let’s go, maybe we can spot Neil in the sky. I think I should try say goodbye.” He started to tear up again, but Todd kindly ignored this, instead offering him a small reassuring smile. The two boys shrugged on their coats and made their way out into the cold. Looking up at the stars as they walked, imagining that Neil was looking back down upon them, and letting their hearts begin to patch up their wounds.