Title: No Angel of Earth
Author: Emily Anderson
Rating: PG
Movie: Dead Poets Society
Brief Summery: As days passed, life moved along, but one soul is trapped within the past. Grieving is the only thing he knew when his entire world had been stolen from him.
Disclaimers: I do not own anything of Dead Poets Society… I am merely writing this because of a creative muse inside told me to, so, I am making not a penny off of my writing.
Feedback: Oh, I love feedback… just leave a review… unless you want to e-mail me at [email protected]
Dedication: This is dedicated to liasantana on livejournal because she helped me refuel my passion for this beautiful movie. ^_^
My motions were slow and cold as I walked along the freshly fallen and crisp snow. Even now, the frozen flakes that dripped from the heavens were covering my tracks. The delicate white snow pressed down on me, leaving its mark with a few new and freshly placed pieces.
There was not a soul who could convince me that this was how it was supposed to be. If anything, I should be buried in that cold ground, while he flourished in living. My steps took me to his grave; I was his only companion at this time of night. Many times I found myself visiting his eternal residence in the shelter of the darkness.
"Neil…" my voice cracked out against the cold air as I fell down to my knees. The breath from my panting body lingered in front of the headstone, appearing as if it were a cloud before dissipating back into the atmosphere.
His name was hidden under the soft patches of snow from earlier in the day. Still, I believed if I wiped the snow away that his name would not be transcribed in deep lettering upon the barren rock. Yet, as my gloved hand swept the purity away, it was his name that was heavily bore.
A gentle wind rushed over the surrounding area, causing the trees to softly crack, letting some of the snow break down from their branches. Back to silence, it seemed as if in these moments a person could hear the snow falling, feeling as if all senses were let to wander and feel what they desired, not what was there.
Time had happened upon us so quickly and yet… for him it didn't pass fast enough. It was as if he couldn't wait until he could spread his wings. If only I could have seen his drowning in his own passion. Maybe I could have done something, maybe I could have helped him see past yesterday. Too bad I couldn't see anything when he was alive and now I am only living in the past as he had done.
He was a gift to us all. He had given me something to live for, given me a meaning to my name. Not everything needs worth as to the elite, as long as you have someone who can make you feel as if you are the only thing worth it in the world. He made me feel something that I hadn't known I could feel before, something I hadn't even realized was thriving on this planet.
Removing my glove, I reached into my front pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper. It had a small poem written to the one who could no longer hear my broken words. My hands dug into the partially frozen dirt below to bury this note to him, hoping he could get my message.
There could be no life without death and no death without life. A person mustn't dwell on dying and must go on with living for both the living and the dead. He wouldn't want me to waste away me life. He'd want me to be out there, doing my passions, freeing my dreams.
I will, I'll live on in the wake of his death. I'll remember the glimmer of light that shimmers over the water on a soft-lit night, the snow that fell upon our shoulders, the tears that traced down my cheeks with the information of his death.
The colour left my cheeks as I became weak with this feeling and realization. All the bitterness and hate for his father drained from my body, leaving me with a hollow feeling of abandoned emotion. My mind would heal, but I needed time to change. Time helped to heal all wounds, leaving traces of scars on a person, but making living easier.
In my heart, I knew there would be hard times, I knew I wouldn't live in complete bliss for a while and even then, it won't last forever. Events change a person; make a person realize new things. Perception changes over time, as does memory. I'll never forget this, but as I learn, my mind will alter and fade these feelings I know so fresh.
My hopes linger inside of my chest. Such hopes of life, of dreams, and that I'll never forget. Never be worn down with life so much that I'll ever forget his smiling face, his look of passion, and how he lived until his chains became too much. Chains I now know how to cut.
**********
A/N: I plan on writting a... happier fic. ^^;; Poor Neil... Poor Todd... *sniffles* Hope you liked this.
Author: Emily Anderson
Rating: PG
Movie: Dead Poets Society
Brief Summery: As days passed, life moved along, but one soul is trapped within the past. Grieving is the only thing he knew when his entire world had been stolen from him.
Disclaimers: I do not own anything of Dead Poets Society… I am merely writing this because of a creative muse inside told me to, so, I am making not a penny off of my writing.
Feedback: Oh, I love feedback… just leave a review… unless you want to e-mail me at [email protected]
Dedication: This is dedicated to liasantana on livejournal because she helped me refuel my passion for this beautiful movie. ^_^
My motions were slow and cold as I walked along the freshly fallen and crisp snow. Even now, the frozen flakes that dripped from the heavens were covering my tracks. The delicate white snow pressed down on me, leaving its mark with a few new and freshly placed pieces.
There was not a soul who could convince me that this was how it was supposed to be. If anything, I should be buried in that cold ground, while he flourished in living. My steps took me to his grave; I was his only companion at this time of night. Many times I found myself visiting his eternal residence in the shelter of the darkness.
"Neil…" my voice cracked out against the cold air as I fell down to my knees. The breath from my panting body lingered in front of the headstone, appearing as if it were a cloud before dissipating back into the atmosphere.
His name was hidden under the soft patches of snow from earlier in the day. Still, I believed if I wiped the snow away that his name would not be transcribed in deep lettering upon the barren rock. Yet, as my gloved hand swept the purity away, it was his name that was heavily bore.
A gentle wind rushed over the surrounding area, causing the trees to softly crack, letting some of the snow break down from their branches. Back to silence, it seemed as if in these moments a person could hear the snow falling, feeling as if all senses were let to wander and feel what they desired, not what was there.
Time had happened upon us so quickly and yet… for him it didn't pass fast enough. It was as if he couldn't wait until he could spread his wings. If only I could have seen his drowning in his own passion. Maybe I could have done something, maybe I could have helped him see past yesterday. Too bad I couldn't see anything when he was alive and now I am only living in the past as he had done.
He was a gift to us all. He had given me something to live for, given me a meaning to my name. Not everything needs worth as to the elite, as long as you have someone who can make you feel as if you are the only thing worth it in the world. He made me feel something that I hadn't known I could feel before, something I hadn't even realized was thriving on this planet.
Removing my glove, I reached into my front pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper. It had a small poem written to the one who could no longer hear my broken words. My hands dug into the partially frozen dirt below to bury this note to him, hoping he could get my message.
There could be no life without death and no death without life. A person mustn't dwell on dying and must go on with living for both the living and the dead. He wouldn't want me to waste away me life. He'd want me to be out there, doing my passions, freeing my dreams.
I will, I'll live on in the wake of his death. I'll remember the glimmer of light that shimmers over the water on a soft-lit night, the snow that fell upon our shoulders, the tears that traced down my cheeks with the information of his death.
The colour left my cheeks as I became weak with this feeling and realization. All the bitterness and hate for his father drained from my body, leaving me with a hollow feeling of abandoned emotion. My mind would heal, but I needed time to change. Time helped to heal all wounds, leaving traces of scars on a person, but making living easier.
In my heart, I knew there would be hard times, I knew I wouldn't live in complete bliss for a while and even then, it won't last forever. Events change a person; make a person realize new things. Perception changes over time, as does memory. I'll never forget this, but as I learn, my mind will alter and fade these feelings I know so fresh.
My hopes linger inside of my chest. Such hopes of life, of dreams, and that I'll never forget. Never be worn down with life so much that I'll ever forget his smiling face, his look of passion, and how he lived until his chains became too much. Chains I now know how to cut.
**********
A/N: I plan on writting a... happier fic. ^^;; Poor Neil... Poor Todd... *sniffles* Hope you liked this.