𝖛𝖎𝖎𝖎. THE DEAD POETS SOCIETY.

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.
the dead poets society.
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               SILHOUETTES

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SILHOUETTES. Black silhouettes dance playfully against the placidly grey walls surrounding. Hushed laughter and giggles trailed in the hollow air of the hallways as the group hurriedly tip-toed, eager to escape and anxious about getting caught. Stairs creaked wickedly as footsteps lightly hit the wooden boards, hooded figures hovering through the school like a thick fog. Moon-rays from the windows shine upon the mural on the wall, young faces pale and pure, young boys dressed in their best suit and tie – a juxtaposition against the rebellious kids escaping the school in an angsty haste.

It took only moments for them to escape the shackles of the horrid school, the cold air hitting their warm cheeks in a pleasant contrast. Footsteps crackle against the strings on leaves surrounding the grass, voices turning from a soft whisper into excited laughs, the atmosphere filling with the thrill of adventure.

This was a very much new experience for the boys of Welton Academy, none of them so much as even thinking of ever doing something this radical. Apart from Charlie, the other boys were rather stiff and complacent, eager to please and unwillingly to deter from the natural order of things. It was a surprise, to say the least when this idea struck in Neil's mind, the tall boy anything but adventurous, something had taken over – maybe it was the spark of his old friends that got him feeling wild, or maybe it was his overwhelming need to impress his new roommate Todd Anderson.

Ironically, the girls were used to this sort of thing. Ruby was rather extravagant in her search for the wild-side, straying from social norms and bringing Eliza with her. The two were anything but squares, yet they had their moments where they were bound to be ordered around by the adults in their life – it felt good to be free again.

The group ran into the darkness before them, the unlit forest in their sites. Their hoods jostled upon their heads and Eliza found herself giggling every time Pitts flinched beside her, the tall boy was rather a coward and he was unable to hide it, instead nudging her with his elbow every time she laughed. Knox was glad it was dark and hard to see, it made it easier to deal with the fact that someone was making Eliza laugh and it wasn't him.

𝐎𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍, 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. ━━ dead poets societyWhere stories live. Discover now