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❝take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you those windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry i'm setting off, but not without my muse❞
— the lakes, taylor swift
—
FLORENCE HAD HARDLY SLEPT THAT NIGHT.
Thoughts of what happened to Neil consumed her as she tossed and turned in bed. Maybe she was overthinking, but she had a feeling something horrible happened.
She was worried for Neil. Florence was his girlfriend, and Mr. Perry didn't look too happy when he saw his son kiss her. Was it so wrong to fall in love at a young age?
Outside her room, she overheard the murmurs of her friends, Charlie and Meeks, who were also nervous for their friend. Florence decided not to join in because she feared getting caught by Headmaster Nolan.
Most of all, she was worried for Todd. Todd was Neil's best friend, who was overly anxious like her. Gloom hovered over the minds of the dead poets tonight, even for her uncle.
Eventually, the girl allowed sleep to pull her under, anxiety engulfing her mind.
-
That morning, Florence woke up at 4 AM. When she goes to sleep with her mind filled up, she tends to wake up at odd times in the morning. Nevertheless, she woke early to see if Neil had made it to Welton.
Florence changed into an acceptable outfit before noticing it was still 5 AM. As she exhaled, she tapped her fingers against her desk, wondering if she could leave the dorm. It was especially chilly this morning. It was mid-December, and Florence could almost see the condensation escape her lips.
Soon enough, she drifted off to sleep on her desk, her hand resting on the book she planned on reading that morning: Pride and Prejudice.
Three loud raps filled her room, causing Florence to jolt out of her slumber. She rubbed her eyes as the voice of Steven Meeks came from the other side.
"Florence? Are you awake?"
The girl groaned, glancing at the clock. It was 8 AM. "Give me a moment," she murmured, fixing her hair.
Something in the air felt gloomy, but Florence couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe the chill or the melancholy feeling that drifted in Henley Hall's air when Neil left still lingering. Florence rubbed her eyes tiredly before opening the door, revealing the poets' despaired faces.
Todd was the worst out of the boys, with his eyes swollen, and he continued sniffling. Florence frowned, wondering what had occurred that morning. Charlie's eyes were beaded with tears, trembling as worry panged in the girl's chest.
