This was a lot shorter than I had intended it to be, but it's kind of difficult to write something already seen in the film other than the emotions. I might do a sort of follow up that's still in Neil's perspective after he's dead, but that could prove difficult. I dunno. Maybe, but maybe not.
Well, anyway, before you read, just know that this is in Neil's perspective with first person and present tense. I've been doing that a lot lately. I don't care for it in chapter stories, but, when it comes to one-shots, I actually prefer it to third person past tense. Hmm, I'm weird.
Disclaimer: Do you seriously think I own DPS? If you do, why are you looking at a FANFICTION site? In the words of Charlie Dalton: "Come on!"
Mr. Keating was wrong. I am trapped. There's nothing I can do now. Father wouldn't understand. "Because you can forget that." There's no way he'd really listen to what I have to say anyway. All I can do is say, "Nothing," and watch as my life is ruined. Mr. Keating lied to me when he said that. I'm trapped.
So what could I possibly do to get out of this? I'm so lost. Nothing really comes to mind. Sure, I guess I could run away, but where would I go? It's not like Charlie or Knox would be able to take me in. They have the money, yes, but their parents would immediately call mine. And, if I don't go to my friends, where could I possibly go? Mr. Keating? No, my father already blames him partially for this. Besides, I don't want Captain to be disappointed in me. Oh, hell, he probably already is. I did lie to him, after all. No matter what, I'm trapped.
Slowly, I get up from the chair and turn off the lights. My parents are already in their room, and I can vaguely hear my mother crying. I don't know what she's crying about, but I don't want to hear her tears. I just want to get away.
My clothes are on my bed when I get into my room, and I contemplate not changing into them for bed and instead just walking out. But I can't do that. For some reason, it just doesn't seem right. Angrily, sluggishly, I begin to switch to my pajamas, but, halfway through, I stop. I pick up my hat from the play, beautiful and serene, from where I had set it before on the bed.
This hat means so much to me. It represents my acting and all my joy that comes with that. I place it on my head and move toward the window. For some reason, I imagine that same window with bars on it. I'm trapped. There's nothing that can be done to fix it or change it or anything.
I hold back the tears that I know are within me. For some reason I feel the need to be strong, even when there's no one here to see. Then, I just realize the sad fact.
I'm falling no matter what I do. But there are still two choices: fall into the bottomless pit of obeying everything my father says, or fall into the pit with a bottom and find the only way out that is left to me.
So what is the only way left to me? Hesitantly, fearfully, I think about it. It doesn't seem possible, but the only thing I seem to come up with is suicide. I've always been told never to do that, that it's bad, that I'll go to Hell if I do. But, somehow, Hell doesn't seem as bad as the life I have now. I don't really understand how that can be, but it just is—and that fact scares me even more.
Before now, I never understood why someone would do that. It never made any sense. How could someone stab themselves or blow their brains out? And, yet, now that just seems so much better than this world.
Maybe this is my ultimate statement, my way of saying that I won't be controlled. Maybe this will just make it all better. Maybe this is my only way out. But, whether it is all of those things or not, I have to do this. The gun may be scary in my hands as I pull it out of its protective cloth, but I have to do this. At least, that's what's going through my head. To tell the truth, I don't know, but it certainly seems like the only way.
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