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The car ride back from the play was silent. It was not the sweet kind of silence that was nice for enjoying a view on a pleasant, autumn day. Neil picked at the skin around his nails, the tension in the air was thick and he needed something to do. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was utterly fucking terrified of his father right now. The silence stretched on and on and on, and it terrified him. He was used to yelling, lecturing, and being thrown around every now and then. He had not grown accustomed to silence. It was the kind of terrible fucking silence that made his body so violently nauseous, and it was making him have to hold back from hyperventilating and or throwing up. Despite everything, he didn’t throw up and eventually the wheels of the car drove over their driveway and stopped. Neil didn’t wait for the doors to unlock, he unlocked the door himself and went inside immediately.
His mother looks at him when he enters and walks to him, she wants to talk and Neil knows it, but his father comes in the door behind him and she shuts her mouth and heads to the Study. They all go to the Study, and Neil sits down, mortified and angry and numb all at once. His father is pissed, completely pissed and is screaming and yelling and lecturing Neil and of course he tries not to cry but a tear slips out anyway. He’s shaking so violently, it doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real, he lets out a breath and yells back at his father for a moment. A moment is all it takes for him to lose his confidence again, he’s breathing heavily and genuinely is going to cry. He’s going to be shipped off to the fucking military and then become a doctor and be miserable for the rest of his life. He doesn’t wanna live like that. He doesn’t wanna live. Neil wants to cry and curl into a ball and die in hopes that he wouldn’t be trapped anymore. He was stuck, stuck in a life that someone else built for him and he knew he could never escape it. So when his father asks what he wants, he says he wants nothing. He gives up, and goes to his room to change out of the clothes from the play and he stares at the crown that Puck wore so happily not long before now. He slowly puts it on and sits at the window, knees closely hugged to his chest. His lip quivers and he leans his head in his hands as he feels an uncontrollable amount of tears that begin to spill from his eyes. He doesn’t even know what time it is, he has no fucking idea what he’s doing or what’s going on or what tomorrow will bring if tomorrow even comes. He breathes and gets up, sniffling and wiping his tears as he opens his window. He stares at the snow slowly filling the grass and piling on top of objects around. He feels numb and tired and like something is missing. He slowly stands up and places the crown down by the window and walks out of his room and downstairs. He goes into the Study and sits in his father’s chair, behind the desk.
He stares at the drawer with the gun, he knows that it’s there. He knows the gun is there and there’s nothing stopping him from grabbing it, so why wouldn’t he grab it? Why hadn’t he grabbed it and fucking blown his brains out yet? He wanted to die, he wanted to die and he wanted to die right now while he still had a chance. He wanted to be free, he needed freedom so much that he would die if it granted him such. And it would. He would be free, free forever, now and always. Oh, should he write a note? He stopped. Writing a note was not what he planned on, but he imagined what it would be like for the Poets without one. Maybe it’d be worse with one. They wouldn’t care, would they? They never will, they never would and never have. He sure as hell wasn’t writing a note for his family, fuck no. He opened the drawer and saw the cloth, slowly he picked up the heavy and cold object and unwrapped it. He stared at it, seeing how shiny it was made it even more surreal. He held it a minute, very gently. It was cold, so cold that he shivered at the touch. It was heavy, and the weight was distributed weirdly. He slowly lifted it and looked at it, letting out a small huff of a laugh. He started shaking again, and he felt tears prick at his eyes for a minute. He lifted his thumb to go near the trigger but stopped because of a buzzing from his pocket. He slowly lowered the gun and put it on the cloth again, digging in his pocket until he found his phone. A shitty little samsung, an early version. It was something he’d had for years. He looked at his phone and saw that it was Knox calling him. Knox, not Charlie. That was odd, that was really odd. So he figured he should pick up. He answered the phone, and was immediately greeted by a Knox who seemed worried and excited.
“Oh, Neil- Hi!” The sound pierced the tension that was everywhere right now and Neil genuinely flinched. Neil was quiet and trying to calm his breathing and heartrate.
“Hey.” He responded in a quieter and much less energetic tone than his or Knox’s usual.
“Um sorry, I figured I’d call and- and check on you. And stuff. By the way, you did amazing in the play! I didn’t see you rehearsing but from what little Todd had said you were good.” Neil frowned slightly, the play. The thing he loved, he loved acting and now he’d never be able to do it again. He was quiet, and his eyes wandered to the gun in front of him as his breathing started to get faster again.
“Are you there?” The phone carried Knox’s voice to his ears and he was trying not to cry again.
“Yeah, yeah sorry. Um, thank you.” He sniffled slightly, and he cursed because he sucked at hiding things right now. He was still shaking, and it wasn’t getting better now. He could tell Knox was trying to listen for if he would say more, or maybe do more. Knox spoke up again.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah, I’m just tired… sorry to worry you.” He felt guilt punch him in the gut now.
“Oh.” Knox laughed a little. “It’s okay, are you sure? I mean, I’m trying to be less pushy, you don’t have to answer. I’m just worried because of your- your dad dragging you out like that. You looked… kinda dead.” They both went quiet, Neil just trying to even out his breathing once fucking more. He wanted to speak and pretend everything was normal, like he wasn’t about to fucking kill himself.
“I’m fine.” He was trying to breathe like a normal person and not think of killing himself at the moment. He could practically feel that Knox was frowning over the phone.
“Okay…” He paused, it seems like he wanted to say more. He did say more. “Yeah, no I just don’t believe that.” Neil furrowed his brows and looked around the room. He was still trying not to cry or lose his shit.
“Wait, what?”
“You looked dead! I mean it, I’m seriously fucking worried about you. Your dad took away the one thing that you really loved, Neil. And I… can’t stop thinking about the look on your face. What happened when you got home?” Damn Knox’s worrying and observancy, he was actually onto him and he was fucking right about everything.
“I- I told you I’m fine.” He rests a hand over his eyes for a minute and his breathing picks up again, he was trying so fucking hard to sound normal and it was so difficult to breathe. He feels guilty, he feels sick and he hates everything about this. He should just hang up, he really thought about it. But Knox must have realized his breathing was weird.
“I know you’re not, Neil. I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
“No it’s-” He had to cut himself off because he did start to cry. “I promise I’m- Fine…” His voice was giving up on him and he wiped a few tears from his face. “Sorry, I can’t- I have to be quiet.”
“Why?”
“I can’t wake up my- my father.”
“...Is he mad at you?” Neil lets his tears fall, and they hit the fabric that clothed the gun.
“Of course he’s fucking mad at me. He’s- God, Knox I’m scared.” He tries to not be loud or make any sound, and fails as he chokes back a sob. Neil’s breathing violently picks up again. For once, Knox is just glad he pushed.
“I’m so sorry. Why are you… scared?”
“I’m scared he’ll fucking kill me.” Knox grew quiet. Neil was terrified he’d see his father walking down the stairs, but he didn’t.
“Literally-?” Neil runs a hand through his hair and lets out a slight laugh as he realizes how pathetic he is.
“I’m… gonna go.”
“Wait, no don’t hang up-”
“Goodbye, Knox.” And he hangs up anyway. His breathing got worse but now he’s laughing and smiling as quietly as possible. He wraps the gun back up and puts it in the drawer again as he turns off his phone. He gets up and goes back up the stairs to his room and closes the door, he collapses onto his bed and lets out a genuine cry and he thinks of how fucking idiotic he’d look right now if he were by anyone. He’d look helpless and disgusting, and he knew it. He didn’t even bother to close his window as he continued running his hands through his hair in a failed attempt to be calmer. The only reason Neil is able to sleep is due to pure exhaustion, regardless, he wakes up early and stares at the ceiling for the next 3 hours before he gets up. In those 3 hours, he devises a plan to stay in Welton.
Neil sits at the dining table, eating some chemical tasting cereal. It doesn’t make any difference to his body, he still can’t tell if he’s hungry or not. He was, he knew he was. But he didn’t have it in him to eat anything, let alone something sweet. His father walks in the room and he stops eating immediately, he refuses to look at his father. He knows it’ll get his father’s attention but he kind of doesn’t give a shit. His father is practically glaring at him, he places down the book he was reading and backhands Neil’s head, which obviously was unexpected so Neil flinches.
“Fix your posture, you look ridiculous.” And so he fixes his posture.
“Sorry, Sir.” He mutters out quietly. His father seems to dislike that.
“Be louder, don’t sound like a nervous fool.” His father scoffs at him. Neil clears his throat.
“Sorry, Sir.” He says it louder, but he guesses it wasn’t satisfying enough for the great Mr. Perry.
“Will you just eat your damn food? You’re ungrateful and lazy, all I ask of you are simple things, Neil.” His father sighs and Neil keeps a straight face somehow.
“Sorry, I’ll do better.” He starts to eat again, but it doesn’t settle awesomely with him so he stops. “I don’t feel well, Father.”
“Excuses, just eat the damn food you have. You’re wasteful.” Neil starts to speak up again.
“N-No, I really mean it.”
“Don’t stutter, it’s unintelligent! God dammit, just do what I say.” His father takes the bowl of cereal and drops it harshly in the sink. It makes a loud clanking sound. “Because you’re ungrateful, I’m going to teach you to be grateful.”
“I’m sorr-”
“You say that a lot, Neil! Do you even understand what you’ve done wrong? You’re not going to have any meals for the rest of the day, that way when you wake up tomorrow you will get food and be grateful for it!” He shouts at Neil and it makes Neil’s ears ring. “Now tell me, what have you done wrong?”
Neil falters, he’s trying not to be affected but he is. He lets out a small huff. If I wake up tomorrow.
“I’ve slouched, stuttered, sounded overall unintelligent, and been ungrateful and lazy. I’m sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be better.” He tries to reassure and it seems his father is angry, but less so.
“Good. Now, we’ll send you to military school within the next few weeks.”
“Father, I don’t believe that’ll work. I have no history of being in the military, and when I go to Harvard it’d look bad on transcripts to see I was pulled out of school halfway through the year.” His father stops, and considers. He lets out a sigh, knowing that his idiotic son is right.
“Fine, you can stay in Welton. It wouldn’t make sense and would worsen your chances of being a doctor in the future if we pulled you out. You’ll go back tomorrow.” He puts on his coat. “Now I’m going to work. Goodbye.” Neil doesn’t even get to say goodbye before the door shuts. He lets out a sigh and now realizes he has to find a way to entertain himself for the next few hours.
Neil ends up doing a puzzle. It was a version of the painting Starry Night by Van Gogh. It’s a thousand pieces and he has been fucking struggling. It has so many pieces and it’s overwhelming. He ends up giving up on the puzzle not even half-way through, but he keeps it laying on the table just in case he wants to go back to it later. Though he believes his father would probably sweep it all into the trash or something… Probably. Neil realizes he worked on a puzzle for four hours straight. He laughs a little at thinking about it and moves on to read a book.
He heavily debates between reading some medicine book his father had gotten him or something from one of his poetry books, he decides to read poetry. He reads in the living room. However, it looks like he’s reading medicine books because he has one on the outside of the poetry book. The first poem he reads is Dead Stars by Ada Limón.
After reading it, he frowns. His stomach was starting to beg for food. Obviously, he ignored it. His father would go crazy if he’d found out he had eaten. And it’s not like they had much to eat anyways, he would notice if something was missing. He was right, though. Neil is fully ungrateful and lazy and he needs to do better, even if he hates his father he knows he’s right. Despite all this, he was still hungry. He hasn’t had any food and it was already almost one in the afternoon. And he still feels sick, he wasn’t lying and he certainly wasn’t saying that to get out of eating. He just feels bad and doesn’t even know why.
But that’s wrong, he knows why. He tried to kill himself the night before and the only thing that stopped him was a call from Knox. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to kill himself, it would just be the first time anyone would hear about it. His father said he was being dramatic, that he wasn’t actually depressed or anxious and that he never had anything to be depressed over. He was right. He was always right, even if Neil hated him, he reached his claws around Neil’s heart and brain and squeezed the deepest insecurities and fears he had. Even when he wasn’t around, Neil knew he was a failure and that he always would be. He hated himself so violently he’s surprised he actually had people like Charlie around him. Which makes him realize, he has yet to message Charlie since the play. The only person who he spoke with was Knox and that was when he was trying to kill himself. He lets out a wry laugh and gets up. He puts the medicine book away and tosses the poetry book back in his room lazily, and decides to hop in the shower. Which, of course, meant complete doom for his legs. He silently thanks whatever god or entity that’s out there that it’s winter.
Neil knows he fucked up when he steps out of the shower and he nearly passes out. He just sits with his back against the wall and begins to violently shiver. He wasn’t cold, he just experienced losing some blood, lack of food, and extremely hot temperature. Of course he showered at the hottest temperature possible. He guesses this is why he’s on the verge of unconsciousness. He still feels sick, but now he’s dizzy and sick. He just sits there in silent agony, attempting to breathe properly. He wonders how long he was in the shower? He’s trying to pretend he’s not bleeding and on the verge of vomiting at the moment. He lays his head low and lets himself feel the hunger crawling up his stomach. It crawls and crawls higher and higher, it only grows more painful with each minute and he has to wrap an arm around his gut to give him some (false) sense of security.
He doesn’t really realize he’s been sitting there for a while, but he realizes his legs are mostly dry and look like a mess. He’d clean them tomorrow. He cautiously stands up and dries himself off, and gets changed into a sweater and some warm jeans. He’s now in his room and laying on his bed out of pure boredom. He then looks at his watch and realizes it’s four in the afternoon. He’s not quite sure where all the time went, but he shrugs it off for the most part and turns on his phone for the first time since he shut it off last night in the study. Immediately, his phone dings and buzzes about a million times. He puts his phone face down on his chest for a minute and takes a deep breath in, he releases it in a sigh. He picks up his phone again and looks first at Knox’s messages, he stopped messaging a few hours ago because he had to go do some schoolwork and didn’t wanna get caught with his phone in the dining hall.
Neil then checks Todd’s messages, and he can see each and every text from him last night all the way up to this morning. It ranges from;
“Hey, are you alright?”
“Neil? Are you there?”
“I’m sorry. You were really amazing in the play.”
“Please be okay.”
“Are you still at home?”
“Charlie’s worried, too.”
“We all love you, Neil. Please don’t forget that.”
He can’t bring himself to read more. So he doesn’t, and he chooses to move on to Charlie’s messages instead. It’s less than Todd or Knox, but it’s still a lot in one text.
“Hey, you were really good in the show! I know you’re probably grounded or something, or just, I dunno. I guess I wanna say I’m worried about you, always kinda have been. Especially lately with your father and his antics. We can just talk if you want, but you can also stay at my house for a bit if you need to. I’ve noticed how different you seemed around your father, or what little I see of him, I’ve always noticed. I never said anything because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Just reach out whenever you can, okay? I care about you, man.”
And Neil found himself crying again, wiping away tears for whatever reason they were there for again. He didn’t mean to worry people, he didn’t want people to worry. He’s fine! He is totally fine and there is no reason to worry about him. He still refuses to cry, and holds back tears as well as he can. He sees Charlie typing again.
Nuwanda
NEIL
I SEE YOU READ MY MESSAGES
Neil lets out a slight laugh at that. He smiles at the phone before his face falls again.
CALL ME
LIKE NOW
And he receives a call from Charlie, so logically he answers it.
“Neil! Neil, oh my god- you’re alive!” He can hear Charlie yelling excitedly.
“Woah- Yeah, yeah I’m. Alive.” He pauses before saying alive, like he wondered if he really was before confirming it.
“Are you okay? How are you? Your dad didn’t do anything crazy, did he?”
“That’s a lot of questions, calm down!” He gets slightly louder, a bit overwhelmed by the sound of Charlie’s shouting.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. But, I mean- You're at home, right?”
“...Yes?” Was that a trick question?
“Oh good, I was wondering if you’d like, run away or something. Which doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
“No,” He laughs before speaking again, “But I definitely thought about it.”
“I don’t blame you.” He hears his best friend let out a soft chuckle. “So, how are you? And don’t give me any bullshit, Todd got so sick from worrying last night that he woke up late.” Neil frowns, and he sits up more now.
“Like, actually sick?”
“Yeah, vomiting and all-”
“Is he okay now?”
“Better, but he’s having to take the day slower than intended.”
“I’m glad he’s slightly better, at least.” Neil feels guilt slowly creeping over his body, he made Todd feel sick. He did. He made Todd feel bad, it was his fault.
“It’s not your fault though, we were just worried because of your dad-” Charlie has got to be a mindreader of some kind.
He lets out a slight scoff, which Charlie clearly hears because he lets out a whistle. “Yeah, I know.”
“We just care about you, Neil.”
“It’s fine.” He responds more harshly, as the hunger bites at his stomach again. He’s picking at his nails and the skin around them again.
“Wrong!”
“What- What do you mean wrong?”
“Tell me what happened, we all saw how miserable you were.”
“Nothing happened.” He shoots out a reply too quick for it to be convincing.
“I said no bullshit!”
“It’s not bullshit, nothing happened!”
“Oh yeah? You talked with your dad and smoothed things out like nothing happened?”
“Kind of… Maybe, I don’t know!”
“So then what’s the big deal? Why do you still seem angry?”
“Because you’re fucking pushing me! Christ, Charlie!” He snaps and lets out a shout.
“Oh come on, you know you wouldn’t answer otherwise.” Neil said nothing. “Seriously, just talk to me, man. I… I keep feeling like something’s wrong, like seriously wrong- I’m just worried.”
“It’s fine, don’t be worried.”
“Stop! Stop doing that!”
“Stop doing what?”
“Telling people not to worry. Hell even Cameron was freaking out-”
“Can you just leave it alone? If I wanted to talk I would have.”
“But that’s the problem, you need to talk. You just never do.”
“How do you know what I need? Nobody knows other than me.”
“So tell us!”
“Jesus, Charlie, just stop it! Stop, I don’t want people to worry. I’ll be fine.” He hisses, his body is now a violent wreck of shivering nerves. He lowers his voice again, and it sounds shaky. “Just, change the topic. Please.”
He’s met with a long silence. The same sort of silence from the car from the night before. But it’s more pensive.
“Okay, sorry.” He knows Charlie wants to say more, but he’s doing a surprisingly good job filtering. “Have you been on the minecraft server yet?”
The question seems so random it makes him smile and calls on his body to let out a laugh.
“No, what’s new?”
“You’d never guess what I built.”
“I don’t wanna guess, does Meeks know? I’ll just get the intel from him.”
“No, you gotta look at it yourself!”
“Okay, fine. I don’t know when I can log on next.”
“That’s fine, it’ll be there for you.” He practically hears Charlie’s grinning and lets out another laugh.
“Well now I feel threatened.”
“Maybe you should feel threatened.”
“Oh god, tell me it isn’t something odd-”
“I have made no such promise to not build phallic symbols.”
“You could get banned.”
“Then I’ll buy another account.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“No, I’m a fool.”
“That’s not any better, Charlie.”
The two of them continue to playfully bicker for the next like 3 hours, and Neil doesn’t realize that his father returned from work. So when he hears a knock at his bedroom door, he freezes and Charlie asks if he’s still there. Logically, he hangs up without saying anything and grabs the nearest book and makes it look like he’s reading, tossing his phone lightly on the side table.
“Come in.” He says with a voice loud enough to hear, but not to convey any sort of negative emotion. And his father steps in the room and Neil can’t help but look at him with a sort of resentment before clearing his face of any kind of emotional expressions. “What do you need?”
His father stands, backlit by the lights in the hallway. It makes him look demented.
“I have news about Welton.” Neil’s heart sinks and he starts shaking again, his father probably changed his fucking mind and was gonna send Neil away or something. Fuck. “You will have two more extracurriculars, to ensure you don’t lie or have time to go do anything ridiculous outside of school. You will come back home on weekends, and you will spend all of Saturday and Sunday studying and working. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” His father looks at him a minute before walking away and closing the door. Neil lets out a sigh of relief when he hears the footsteps slowly travel away from his room. He quickly grabs his phone again to message Charlie a quick explanation, seeing as he was being spammed by him.
Nuwanda
where tf did u go
hello????
u good???????????
neil??????
come back :(
neillllllll
Sorry my father came in
booooo i hate that guy
u ok tho?
All good, don’t worry
hmm ok, back to call?
Can’t, gotta sleep and stuff
And so Neil went to bed, of course not without struggle. He can’t stop thinking about what happened about 3 years ago. The way he almost died because schoolwork had been too much, everyone had been too much and expected so much of him that he had no choice but to end their expectations. Maybe he should try again, maybe he should go downstairs and grab the gun and just end it. The expectations were too high, they always will be and Neil would never be enough for the world.
Maybe he should try taking a whole bottle of pain-killers again. Or the gun would work, like he wanted to last night. He stares at the glow of his phone screen and looks at Knox’s contact. He feels guilty, so sick and guilty over that. If he ever told anybody, and not that he would, then Knox would never forgive himself for not pushing as much as possible. Neil appreciated the effort, but he knows it’s just pity. It’s all pity and lies and nobody actually gives two shits about him despite what they all say. What proof could they give? All they wanted was some kind of reward for looking like a good person or something. Or they wanted to trick him and do something to humiliate him or tell his father. His father wouldn’t believe them. His father refused to believe him when he told him he was trying to overdose, the only reason he went to the hospital was because he started getting so severely sick.
He then stares at Todd’s contact. And all he feels are the salty rivers running down his face as he lays down and sulks, he feels guilty for feeling so bad. He can’t do anything to change this, he knows it and everybody else should know it too.
He can’t be fixed. He is just destined to die early.