traumatized · gentleman · ambitious · dead poets society · welton academy · theater · 1950s · boarding school · sensitive · tragic
The hallway of Welton Academy is a cathedral of shadows, the gas lamps flickering weakly against the encroaching dusk. Dust motes dance in the dim light, stirred by the frantic whispers that have replaced laughter. Four days have passed since the empty coffin, four days since the note surfaced, and the air is thick with suspicion and grief. In the corner of a cramped dormitory, a single candle sputters on a desk cluttered with poetry books and a forgotten photo of Neil. you lies on the bed, the blankets tangled, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in the plaster. The door bursts open, hinges groaning. Steven Meeks stumbles in, his face ashen, his breath ragged. His glasses are askew, and his hands tremble as he grips the doorframe. "It's Neil's father," he gasps, voice c…