Todd Anderson Dead Poets Society Novels & Stories

"Of course not. I'd still be up there right now if that were the case. Now, Todd, get back inside. I should be on my way." "Did she tell you?" he asks suddenly. I pause, turning back to him. "Tell me what?" "Oh . . . I guess not," he mutters, looking away. "I mean . . . shaman Quirell died today. By now, you know." "I know," I say. "Todd, it's late. Go on." He steps aside, and I walk past him into the street, hood back over my head again. I wave a brief good night over my shoulder and continue down the street.

"Do you promise?" "Of course!" “Then, it's decided! Yey!” Lena cheered happily. "Then, let's order some food and-" “Rather than dealing with that stupid party thing, we better hurry to the auditorium room now. Professor Anderson's death tribute ceremony will begin soon," interrupted Sander, who was already among the group of students in a mysteriously calm tone. A bespectacled man with a middle parted hair and an expression that was always look serious, with an aura that can succeed in making all the students dare not move or even argue with him.

Under the bright porch light, he looked stunning and imposing, which accentuated Anderson’s disheveled appearance even more. As Anderson gazed at Noah, his lips trembled uncontrollably. "Where is Ayanna?" he asked. Noah chuckled coldly. "Buried." Buried... Anderson’s eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't accept this outcome, yet he also found it absurdly ironic. He was the one who had driven her to her death and yet he was consumed with regret now. Noah took a drag from his cigarette, the faint green smoke hanging in the air under the porch light.

Todd walked out as soon as the presentations were over, the winner would be contacted via a mail so there was nothing more to wait for, Rick ran up to him just as he was about to enter his car. “Todd Anderson” He said and Todd paused, he knows that voice, he can never forget the voice of someone he once considered a friend “Rick” Todd said as he turned back to face Rick Warren “you were going to leave without saying hello” Rick said flashing a fake smile,

… One day, I suddenly saw the news on the television. "The Jones family was murdered. None of the family members lived." My heart skipped a beat. I then saw a photo of my family on the screen. "It is reported that the murder was committed by Susan Jones, the wife of the old director of Jones Group..." None of them survived. Charles, Derek, Samantha, Jenson, and Susan—all of them died. "Mrs. Jones left a suicide note, claiming that this was done for her daughter Celine..." I could no longer process the words I heard after that.

"He died before he can say. I'm sorry, Cap." "No," I shook my head as I returned to the screen. "You did a good job. Rest up before I give the next assignment." "Thanks, Cap." I tap on the touch screen keyboard and red tag Anderson's picture- DECEASED. There wasn't much about Anderson. His full name is Bobby Anderson, and he is in his mid-twenties. He may look like a lumberjack, giant, and brute with a goatee, and people see him as older than he seems, but he's the youngest member of the Order Executives.

A glistening tear rolled down Juliet's cheek and dripped onto her school skirt. "She hung herself a week after the incident. She died because of us, because of Emilia, because of the stupid Gardening Club..." She finally finished. She was no longer looking at Alice. Alice was stunned, now that she knew the truth. She always suspected there was something bad that happened between Courtney and Emilia, but nothing like this. It was like the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle had fallen into place. She wasn't surprised why the entire club felt upset about her death. They probably blamed themselves, Alice thought to herself, Because they weren't there to sympathize with her.

Standing there, barely ten feet away is Jaden staring at me like he has just seen a ghost. His reaction is confirmation enough that he knew my sister and knows that she is dead. "We'll take one of each," a good looking guy in a suit says. I know him, his assisstant who goes everywhere with him. I struggle to take my eyes off Jaden and work on their order. "Anything else?" I ask with a smile which seems to disarm him. They turn to walk away. I won't have another shot. 'Say something, anything' my mind screams at me.

Thanksgiving is over, my friends have returned home. Austin has returned home. Antonio’s body has returned to the local funeral parlor. Over the past week I have been dealing with phone calls and emails about Antonio’s death. No one seems to have boundaries. This is my husband. I’ve tried to stay off of the computer, even to check email because of seeing all the news. “Antonio Anderson death”, “Antonio Anderson passes away, age 43”, “Antonio Anderson died in a horrific car crash”, “Mrs. Anderson moves on without Mr. Anderson”. No Mrs. Anderson didn’t move on, why are they so grimy?

Trent howled, coughing from the pain whiles Anderson addressed him coldly, “Look around you Trent, you think I want to kill you? Death is too good for you.” Trent looked around for the first time, feeling reassured at seeing all the familiar faces. Anderson wouldn’t indeed kill him in front of all these people so killing wasn’t in the equation. “So why did you have me brought here?”