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the tears in neil’s eyes when he talks to mr. keating about his father will always hurt me

#😭😭😭#neil perry #dead poets society #killing myslef #dps

no yeah that was ny fault for trying to leave the house for once. Of course it would be pouring rain 2 hours before the weather report said so

#hurff durff #killing myslef

#KILLING MYSLEF #bez nooo........ my bez ......#marco bezzecchi #cota gp 2026 #motogp

(They Long to Be) Close to You | CLOSED: Emmett and Tillie

"Did you get the money I sent over?"

"Yes, Lenny."

"And the other thing?"

Tillie glances down at the package by her feet. The small square shaped box was half open, a new Dionne Warwick record peeking out of the top. "Yes. I love it. You really didn't have to get me anything." She absentmindedly twirls the twisted cord of the telephone, replying to her father in hushed tones even though the phone booth area of campus was completely empty. Tillie can hear him laugh a little on the other end. "Don't be silly, Miywaay," She smiles upon hearing this, the nickname of her nickname. A reminder of Ruby in casual conversation. "I'm just sorry you have to spend your birthday alone. They really give you that much work over there?" Maybe it was wrong, but she doesn't feel bad for lying to him. Birthdays are a strange and uncomfortable affair in her house. Neither Broussard is ever too sure of what to do or say. Mostly, she always ended up wanting to be alone. Not that it was a bad thing - Tillie enjoyed her solitude probably a bit too much. But she wants to spare her father another painfully awkward afternoon together, so she tells him she is behind on school work when he offers to make the drive to see her. And, she tells him that she is overwhelmed with stress when he asks her to come back to New Orleans for the fall break. He was never one to pry, so he accepted her answer easily, and she is grateful for it. With everything that was going on she couldn't even begin to imagine also being at home too. "Yeah. But it's fine. Anyway, I have to run. The sisters are eyeing me to tell me that my time is up." She looks around her. The room was still empty. Lenny clears his throat. "Okay, well -" She knows that he won't tell her that he loves her, but she is okay with it. It just wasn't something that they did. "Have a good week. Call when you can. I’m proud of you. Your mother - she would be proud too. And happy birthday, Charlotte."

In her room, Tillie fishes underneath her bed and finds what she had been looking for - a small tin box adorned with delicate blue-green flowers printed on the sides. She rests it on her desk and sits down on the wooden chair, opening the lid carefully. A few seemingly random items are inside - among them a black and white photograph of a couple. They are both laughing, clearly caught up in a private moment in front of the camera. Tillie has only one photograph of her mother to remember her by and this is it. Really she had alway been thankful for it, that the one image she had of Ruby was of her smiling. In love. When she was younger she had studied it ad nauseam. Back then it was framed on the wall of her home, in the library. She would stand in front of it for hours on end trying to remember every inch of the woman’s face, searching within it for some sense of likeness between them. Unbeknownst to Tillie, Lenny had always watched her do this from his spot at the top of the stairs. It both broke and warmed his heart every time. When she had come to Le Troadec and unpacked her luggage on the first day she moved in, she’d found the photograph there on top of her things. Lenny had quietly put it there, in the hope that it would make her happy. He figured that he had known and loved Ruby so much, his memory was stronger than any photograph. So, he gave it to his daughter, and she wept that afternoon because of it.

Today she inspects it again. Her finger runs gently along her mother's face. Tillie found that the older she got the more they favored one another. She smiles and places the photo down. She reaches inside of the tin box again and pulls out a worn, metal tube of lipstick. Lenny told her once that he had bought it because the name on the bottom was Ruby Red. He had given it to his lover as a bit of a joke. But when he saw it on her for the first time, she looked so beautiful that he "fell for her all over again." When she died, Tillie kept it for herself. Often when she felt lonely she could look at the indentations made on the makeup - proof that her mother had existed at all. She had never used it, only stared. Today, though, Charlotte twists out a little of what remains and glides it across her lips. In the mirror she can imagine her mother. She sees the freckles they share, the long nose and full lips. She feels her mother with her. She feels beautiful because of it.

The day passes without much fuss. Tillie takes a trip into town, first getting a copy of Ralph Ellison's "Shadow and Act" at Not Fit To Print and then going for a quiet walk. The end of her journey leads her to Joe’s Diner where a smiling waitress greets her with a loud “Happy Birthday!" Tillie shrinks a bit, compulsively embarrassed. “Jolene I don't even know how you know that information." Jolene smiles warmly at this. They had built a rapport with each other over the three years she was at Le Troadec. Charlotte often came in very late with a book in tow wanting to get away from her classmates. It panned out that she came during Jolene's shifts, and the two quickly became familiar with each other (mostly because Tillie only ordered a strawberry milkshake and went to the same booth in the back every single time). She was hesitant at first to accept her kindness and familiarity, but the older woman disarmed her - almost completely. Tillie figures she must’ve let her birthdate slip a long time ago, and Jolene remembered. Because, well, of course she did. "I know everything, darling. Oh! And I have something for you. Go sit down, I'll get it for ya." Tillie sits in her usual spot with a smile, knowing better than to try and argue with the woman. She's only waiting for a few moments before Jolene is back, strawberry milkshake and generous cherry pie slice in hand, a white candle poking out through the middle. "Oh, Joe-" Tillie starts, but something catches in her throat. Overwhelmed by her kindness, she has to swallow the sob that threatened to escape from inside of her. "It's a big slice, you sure you don't want to split it with a friend?" Tillie shakes her head. "Nope." Jolene doesn't press it. She knows better, too. She gives the girl a light squeeze on her shoulder. Groping in her apron for a moment, she retrieves a small lighter and lights the candle, the flickering flame glowing across Tillie's face. "Happy Birthday, kiddo." She says, and Tillie thanks her earnestly.

As the cheap candle melts down, and the white wax drips onto her slice of pie, she realizes she's not sure what to wish for. She's staring at it dumbly, watching the flame bop and dance. Everything seemed so impossible lately, so wrong. What could a wish possibly help? "Well," Tillie muses, "Worse to try than to waste." So she closes her eyes and hopes that she will start to feel normal again soon. A smile tugs at her lips at the thought. When she opens them again, to her shock, Emmett is standing in front of her. She almost thinks she's imagining it, but then he blinks at her. She doesn't know what to do but to blink back. The stretch of silence around them was getting more uncomfortable by the second. "Oh -" She whispers finally. Suddenly she feels absurd. The red of the cherries seems obnoxious, the red of her lips ridiculous. Worse she finally realizes how stupid she must look sitting in this booth all alone. Her eyes shift downward to her feet. "Hi. I thought you would've gone home."

#c:emmett #killing myslef