An Introduction Of Sorts
Neil Perry, 17, exemplary student at Welton Academy takes his own life
Using his father's hand gun, Neil Perry, 17, shot himself in the head. The bullet lodged in his brain, killing the young scholar on impact. Neil recently withdrew from Welton Academy, after performing in a play without parental consent. Mr. and Mrs. Perry declined to comment. Welton Academy officials expressed grief and sorrow for the death of Neil Perry, and declined further comment.
Not much, to speak of, is it? You may be wondering, who is that boy, that Neil Perry? Or maybe you forgot the name before you'd even finished reading the obituary. I wouldn't be surprised. It seems like it's more about Welton Academy than it is about me.
I'm Neil. Neil Perry. I was raised an only child, after my brother Nicholas died. He had cancer. He was seven, I was three. I don't really remember him. I remember he used to read to me. I'd crawl into bed with him, and he'd read to me. And then one night he wasn't there, and I remember when my mother said he wasn't coming back. I didn't understand.
Most of my life, my whole life, really, is highlighted by phrases like "I want you to have opportunities I never had" and "You're going to be someone important, Neil." My favorite is "Do you know how lucky you are?" Am I lucky? What is lucky, exactly? Because I doubt lucky is having your father breathing down your neck all the time, forcing you to take this class and that class, forcing you to prepare for a medical career. A doctor. Yes. He insists I'm going to be a doctor. His folks were too poor to send him to medical school. That's one of those opportunities he didn't have.
No. Lucky was getting Todd for a room mate. Todd needed me. He was so scared. Scared of his own shadow. The other boys at Welton would have eaten him alive. The teachers would have devoured him. He wasn't like his brother, Jeffrey. Jeffrey was a couple years older, but everybody knew Jeffrey Anderson. He could have been Welton Academy's poster boy. Maybe he was. He was out going and popular, valedictorian, the whole deal. Kind of makes you wonder, then, how he had a brother who was afraid of his own shadow.
I can guess. I wanted to help Todd over come his shyness and self doubt. Reassure him. He wasn't the nobody his parents allowed him to think he was. His quiet demeanor complimented my outgoing personality. I kind of took him under my wing, you know. And it felt good. it felt right. I felt important, because Todd needed me.
And, you see. I needed him too. I think that's what hurt the most, when Father took me home that night after the play. Knowing I'd never see Todd again. That's what I couldn't deal with. That's why...I know everyone thinks it's the play. I was never more alive than when I was on that stage. But it wasn't only that. I could act, after I got through Military School, like Father wanted. Maybe I'd even be the doctor he so desperately wanted. Eventually I could have found a way to act again. So no. It wasn't that at all. It was Todd. Leaving Todd.
I didn't even get to say goodbye. The last time he saw me, my father had his hand on my neck, leading me away like a disobedient puppy. The last I saw him, he looked...broken. Defeated. Alone. Terrified, as he'd been that first day....Consumed by his brother's shadow. I left him. I let him down. I failed.
Neil Perry
Dead Poet's Society
615 words
Comments/RP welcome.
X-posted: elite_intros, talking_intros
Using his father's hand gun, Neil Perry, 17, shot himself in the head. The bullet lodged in his brain, killing the young scholar on impact. Neil recently withdrew from Welton Academy, after performing in a play without parental consent. Mr. and Mrs. Perry declined to comment. Welton Academy officials expressed grief and sorrow for the death of Neil Perry, and declined further comment.
Not much, to speak of, is it? You may be wondering, who is that boy, that Neil Perry? Or maybe you forgot the name before you'd even finished reading the obituary. I wouldn't be surprised. It seems like it's more about Welton Academy than it is about me.
I'm Neil. Neil Perry. I was raised an only child, after my brother Nicholas died. He had cancer. He was seven, I was three. I don't really remember him. I remember he used to read to me. I'd crawl into bed with him, and he'd read to me. And then one night he wasn't there, and I remember when my mother said he wasn't coming back. I didn't understand.
Most of my life, my whole life, really, is highlighted by phrases like "I want you to have opportunities I never had" and "You're going to be someone important, Neil." My favorite is "Do you know how lucky you are?" Am I lucky? What is lucky, exactly? Because I doubt lucky is having your father breathing down your neck all the time, forcing you to take this class and that class, forcing you to prepare for a medical career. A doctor. Yes. He insists I'm going to be a doctor. His folks were too poor to send him to medical school. That's one of those opportunities he didn't have.
No. Lucky was getting Todd for a room mate. Todd needed me. He was so scared. Scared of his own shadow. The other boys at Welton would have eaten him alive. The teachers would have devoured him. He wasn't like his brother, Jeffrey. Jeffrey was a couple years older, but everybody knew Jeffrey Anderson. He could have been Welton Academy's poster boy. Maybe he was. He was out going and popular, valedictorian, the whole deal. Kind of makes you wonder, then, how he had a brother who was afraid of his own shadow.
I can guess. I wanted to help Todd over come his shyness and self doubt. Reassure him. He wasn't the nobody his parents allowed him to think he was. His quiet demeanor complimented my outgoing personality. I kind of took him under my wing, you know. And it felt good. it felt right. I felt important, because Todd needed me.
And, you see. I needed him too. I think that's what hurt the most, when Father took me home that night after the play. Knowing I'd never see Todd again. That's what I couldn't deal with. That's why...I know everyone thinks it's the play. I was never more alive than when I was on that stage. But it wasn't only that. I could act, after I got through Military School, like Father wanted. Maybe I'd even be the doctor he so desperately wanted. Eventually I could have found a way to act again. So no. It wasn't that at all. It was Todd. Leaving Todd.
I didn't even get to say goodbye. The last time he saw me, my father had his hand on my neck, leading me away like a disobedient puppy. The last I saw him, he looked...broken. Defeated. Alone. Terrified, as he'd been that first day....Consumed by his brother's shadow. I left him. I let him down. I failed.
Neil Perry
Dead Poet's Society
615 words
Comments/RP welcome.
X-posted: elite_intros, talking_intros