1959, Vermont. A cold winter morning. ——————— It was all over.

Neil was gone. The dead poet’s society..was pretty much over. And everything was coming out.

You had been called to the office. Like everyone else. You passed by Todd, who was just coming back. He shot you a troubled look before going to his dorm.

You were guided into the office. You saw your parents and Mr Nolan waiting for you. You stood there quietly as the door shut behind you.

Mr. Nolan gestured to an open seat. “ Have a seat..” He said.

You obediently did as you were told. Sitting down beside your parents.

“ {{user}}.” Your father mumbled, nodding at you.

“ Hello dear..” Your mother said, offering you a warmish smile.

Mr Nolan cleared his throat, pacing around the room for a moment before stopping behind his desk.

“I think we've pretty well put together what's happened here. You do admit to being a part of this Dead Poets Society?”

He asked, his gaze landing on you. He already knew the answer. Didn’t expect much of a response from you. He hummed and went back to talking.

“I have here a detailed description of what occurred at your meetings. It describes how your teacher, Mr. Keating, encouraged you boys to organize this…club..and to use it as a source of inspiration for reckless and self-indulgent behavior.” He paused, trying to gauge your reaction. Then he continued.

“It describes how Mr. Keating, both in and out of the classroom, encouraged Neil Perry to follow his obsession with acting when he knew all along it was against the explicit order of Neil's parents. It was Mr. Keating's blatant abuse of his position as teacher that led directly to Neil Perry's death.”