elite_muses Topic 8: Is there someone you can't live without?
I met Todd Anderson the day he started at Welton Academy. I'd already been at Hell-ton a couple years. I didn't know, but I'd heard of Todd's brother Jeffrey. Everyone knew who Jeffrey was. Honor student, Dean's List every semester. Valedictorian when he graduated. Jeffrey's shoes left a pretty big void. I knew by looking at him. Todd wasn't really capable of filling them.
That wasn't a problem for me. I didn't really even know Jeffrey. But I knew it would be hard on Todd. Hard, because the teachers would expect Todd to live up to his older brother's standards. I knew they'd see "Jeffrey's brother" long before they'd see Todd, if they ever managed to see Todd at all. So, that first day, I kind of took him under my wing. had to. He was my room mate. That made me responsible in a way.
Maybe I resented it at first. He was so shy. So quiet. That was okay, sometimes. At least he wasn't loud and in my face all the time like Charlie. But the quiet was unnerving too, because sometimes I'd forget he was there, and I just wanted him to make some kind of noise so I'd remember I wasn't alone. But that's just the way he was, and after a while, I guess I got used to it, because I started noticing that the quiet was different, if he was there or if he wasn't. It was empty, when he wasn't there.
We had a lot of our classes together. Mr Keating's class stood out, for a lot of reasons. Keating had a way, I don't even know how to explain it, but he had a way of grabbing us by the throat, and reaching the still and quiet parts of us. Each one of us, who was in his class. Like he knew us, like he was part of us. One of us. I really don't know how to describe it.
The first time he tried to make Todd talk in front of the class, I was mad. I felt angry, because I thought he was picking on Todd. Todd's not like other kids. He can't even read something out loud that someone else wrote. Like from a text book, or a poem. He just can't do it. Todd's not like that. He's shy. He doesn't trust himself or his voice or anything. His parents did that to him. Walking in his brother's enormous shadow did that to him.
The picture he has on his desk in our room, his parents are hugging his brother. Jeffrey's between them. Todd is off to the side like an after thought. The heir and the spare. Something like that. Like he's not really part of the family. Like he's only in the picture because he had to be. They gave him the same desk set for his birthday ever year. Because they didn't care.
I'd say it's their loss, except by robbing themselves of Todd, they robbed Todd too. because he really doesn't have parents. Not the kid who love and protect and cherish their children. At least my parents, I know they love me. They stifle me, but that's how they love me. At least they don't shove me to the side. Maybe they would, if I had an older brother like Jeffrey. If Nick had lived, he would have been the son they wanted. Not the son they got stuck with.
Todd doesn't deserve that. He's such a wonderful person. He's beautiful, really. He's...He's just Todd. The way they treat him should be a crime. I'd prosecute them. I'd find them guilty.
I think the first time I really heard him speak up was after I got the flyer for the play. Midsummer Night's Dream. I was going to act. Todd tried to talk me out of it. He knew my father would be upset. Upset. Right. No. Todd knew my father wouldn't allow it. And he knew it was wrong, how I insisted on doing it anyway. He tried to reason with me, but I could see in his eyes how he hated to try to be the voice of reason. I knew deep down, he wanted me to do it. He knew it was my dream, and this was my chance.
After the play, when Father led me away, I couldn't look at Todd. I couldn't see the hurt I knew was there. Because I'd failed him. I'd let him down. I'd never been more alive than I was on that stage, but by doing it, I failed him. Completely.
Father told me I was going off to Military School the following morning, and I knew I'd never see Todd Anderson again. And as I sat there, I knew I had lost the only thing I had ever known that was worth living for. I tried to speak up. I tried to tell him, he never asks what I feel. What I feel. How could I tell him that what I felt was love? True love, love for another man.
I wrote my verse that final year at Welton. And as Father led me away from Todd, my song ended.
That wasn't a problem for me. I didn't really even know Jeffrey. But I knew it would be hard on Todd. Hard, because the teachers would expect Todd to live up to his older brother's standards. I knew they'd see "Jeffrey's brother" long before they'd see Todd, if they ever managed to see Todd at all. So, that first day, I kind of took him under my wing. had to. He was my room mate. That made me responsible in a way.
Maybe I resented it at first. He was so shy. So quiet. That was okay, sometimes. At least he wasn't loud and in my face all the time like Charlie. But the quiet was unnerving too, because sometimes I'd forget he was there, and I just wanted him to make some kind of noise so I'd remember I wasn't alone. But that's just the way he was, and after a while, I guess I got used to it, because I started noticing that the quiet was different, if he was there or if he wasn't. It was empty, when he wasn't there.
We had a lot of our classes together. Mr Keating's class stood out, for a lot of reasons. Keating had a way, I don't even know how to explain it, but he had a way of grabbing us by the throat, and reaching the still and quiet parts of us. Each one of us, who was in his class. Like he knew us, like he was part of us. One of us. I really don't know how to describe it.
The first time he tried to make Todd talk in front of the class, I was mad. I felt angry, because I thought he was picking on Todd. Todd's not like other kids. He can't even read something out loud that someone else wrote. Like from a text book, or a poem. He just can't do it. Todd's not like that. He's shy. He doesn't trust himself or his voice or anything. His parents did that to him. Walking in his brother's enormous shadow did that to him.
The picture he has on his desk in our room, his parents are hugging his brother. Jeffrey's between them. Todd is off to the side like an after thought. The heir and the spare. Something like that. Like he's not really part of the family. Like he's only in the picture because he had to be. They gave him the same desk set for his birthday ever year. Because they didn't care.
I'd say it's their loss, except by robbing themselves of Todd, they robbed Todd too. because he really doesn't have parents. Not the kid who love and protect and cherish their children. At least my parents, I know they love me. They stifle me, but that's how they love me. At least they don't shove me to the side. Maybe they would, if I had an older brother like Jeffrey. If Nick had lived, he would have been the son they wanted. Not the son they got stuck with.
Todd doesn't deserve that. He's such a wonderful person. He's beautiful, really. He's...He's just Todd. The way they treat him should be a crime. I'd prosecute them. I'd find them guilty.
I think the first time I really heard him speak up was after I got the flyer for the play. Midsummer Night's Dream. I was going to act. Todd tried to talk me out of it. He knew my father would be upset. Upset. Right. No. Todd knew my father wouldn't allow it. And he knew it was wrong, how I insisted on doing it anyway. He tried to reason with me, but I could see in his eyes how he hated to try to be the voice of reason. I knew deep down, he wanted me to do it. He knew it was my dream, and this was my chance.
After the play, when Father led me away, I couldn't look at Todd. I couldn't see the hurt I knew was there. Because I'd failed him. I'd let him down. I'd never been more alive than I was on that stage, but by doing it, I failed him. Completely.
Father told me I was going off to Military School the following morning, and I knew I'd never see Todd Anderson again. And as I sat there, I knew I had lost the only thing I had ever known that was worth living for. I tried to speak up. I tried to tell him, he never asks what I feel. What I feel. How could I tell him that what I felt was love? True love, love for another man.
I wrote my verse that final year at Welton. And as Father led me away from Todd, my song ended.