"What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger, kiddo."

The coldness lingered in the small space between my father and I, his eyes hard and cold as he stared at me.

In his eyes, Hannah's death was nothing more than a terrible tragedy. He believed that it was easy to rise above it, to forget that I'd ever been friends with the beautiful girl.

But how could you forget being friends with Hannah?

Hannah, who could make you smile with only a single glance in your direction. Innocent Hannah Baker, with her hands tangled in her hair nervously as she tried to respond to something you said.

Hannah who had killed herself two weeks ago.

"Are you listening to me, Alex?" My father said, laying his badge on the kitchen table and sliding it across the table to me.

"Yes, sir." I responded, barely audible. He nodded toward the badge on the table, his eyes still showing little emotion.

"Alex, son. I understand that you were close to this girl, and I'm not sure if you have been told, but Mr. and Mrs. Baker are preparing a lawsuit against the school." I lifted my head, surprised.

Good.

"This means that there will be court cases involved, and you will have to attend them. Are you seeing where I'm going with this?"

"Yes, sir." I whispered in response.

"Mrs. Jensen, your friend Clay-"

"Clay isn't my friend." I cut him off, "Sir."

"Well, your schoolmate, then. His mother will be coaching you on what to and not to say." I nodded, hardly listening anymore.

I didn't want to get coached into lying, to giving false bullshit about what really happened to Hannah. What I had done.

"Alex, bud. Are you sure you're okay?" For a second, I saw hints of the man my father used to be flash through his eyes.

"I'm great, sir. Can I head back to my room now?" I gave him a look.

I didn't want to spend my Saturday sitting at my kitchen table trying to hold a conversation with a man that had lost any sort of heart years ago.

"Sure, kiddo. Call me if you need anything." He rose up, taking his badge on the table and hooking it back on to his belt with a heavy sigh. I waited until he was in front of the door to stand up and start to head toward the hall.

"Wait, Alex. There's a package out here for you." He bent over to pick something up, turning to hold out what looked like a shoe box in my direction.

"What is it?" I mumbled, disinterested. It was probably some sort of joke.

"Dunno. There isn't a return address. I better head out though, kid. Have a great day." I snorted once he was out the door, shaking my head as I took the box from the kitchen table and walked over to the white futon in the living room.

I sat down with a snicker, my eyes on the front door.

It was probably some sort of dead animal in the box, a joke that Montgomery or Bryce was trying to pull to get a rise out of me.

Unwrapping the shoe box slowly, I hesitated for a second when I saw how unique the shoe box was. It looked as if someone had splattered paint all over the box.

"What the hell?" I untangled a mess of headphones and a Walkman, setting them down on the table beside the box. My eyes drifted down the row of cassette tapes, all with names painted in blue on the tops of them. Something twisted in my chest when I saw my name on the third to last tape on the right side.

What fun would either of those idiots have with cassette tapes? Did they even know how to use them? Did they even know what they were?

I opened the Walkman, ready to slide the cassette with my name into it when I found a small, folded up piece of paper inside it. It took me longer than it should have to unfold the small paper. Once it was at it's full size, half of a piece of scrap paper, I read what it said.

Listen from the beginning, Alex. From first to last, don't skip ahead.

"Jess." I whispered, brushing my hand along the two simple sentences written in what looked like a pink gel pen.

Why the hell did Jessica send me a box of Cassette tapes?

I set the paper down beside an empty can of Coke my brother must have left on the table, my hands somehow managing to press every button at once.

Static. That was all I heard for a moment, then it broke through. The voice. Hannah's voice.

"Hello, boys and girls. Hannah Baker here. Live and in stereo."

Jesus Christ.

"No return engagements. No encore. And this time, absolutely no requests."

A sick feeling coiled somewhere in my stomach, spreading through my chest as I listened on.

"I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically; why my life ended. And if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why."

My finger curled around the stop button, the rest of my body frozen in place, unable to move.

"I'm not saying which tape brings you into the story. But fear not, if you received this lovely little box, your name will pop up . . . . I promise."

"Now why would a dead girl lie?"

I leaned back into the uncomfortable leather couch, my head rolling to the side and staring out the window and into the overgrown weeds that had begun to spring up in the lawn.

"The rules are pretty simple. There are only two. Rule number one; you listen. Number two; you pass it on. Hopefully, neither one will be easy for you."

What the fuck, Hannah? What is this?

"When you're done listening to all thirteen sides-because there are thirteen sides to every story-rewind the tapes, put them back in the box, and pass them on to whoever follows your little tale. And you, lucky number thirteen, you can take the tapes straight to hell. Depending on your religion, maybe I'll see you there."

I leaned back into the uncomfortable leather couch, my head rolling to the side and staring out the window and into the overgrown weeds that had begun to spring up in the lawn.

"In case you're tempted to break the rules, understand that I did make a copy of these tapes. These copies will be released in a very public manner if this package doesn't make it through all of you."

This is a sick joke, a really sick fucking joke.

"I almost forgot. If you're on my list, you should've received a map."

I push myself off the couch and brushed my fingers along a blue map, unfolding it with shaky fingers.

"Throughout the tapes, I'll be mentioning several spots around our beloved city for you to visit. I can't force you to go there, but if you'd like a little more insight, just head for the stars. Or, if you'd like, just throw the maps away and I'll never know."

I began to crumble the map in my hands, my lips curling back in disgust.

Who would be disgusting enough to joke about this crap? Would all the guys be sitting at the first destination waiting to jump me? Humiliate me like they always do?

"Or maybe I will. I'm not actually sure how this whole dead things works. Who knows, maybe I'm standing behind you right now."

A quiet croak leaves her mouth. Something close to a laugh without any humor.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't fair."

I stood up, ready to rip the headphones from my head when everything around me began to fade in and out, her words a constant loop in my head once they were out of her mouth.

"Ready, Mr. Foley?"

I let the Walkman drop at my side, tugging the headphones around my head down with it until they slipped off and crumbled to the ground. I fell back on to the couch, my raw and bitten lips parting. I pulled my legs on to the couch, glad, for once, that Dad wasn't here to scold me on it.

"Ready, Mr. Foley?"

I. . . if Justin was on these. . . these tapes, then it couldn't be the guys doing it. They'd never do anything to their precious star basketball player.

I reached on to the table for the box, my hand trembling as it clenched around it. I stared along the row of tapes, taking in each name written in bold, blue paint on each one, a number beside them.

There they were. Justin, Bryce, Zach, Marcus. All of their names on the tapes along with mine.

It could still be a joke, just not their joke. There was no way-

I broke myself out of my thoughts, reaching up and sweeping the Walkman and headphones back into my arms within seconds, forcing the headphones back on me before I could decide against it.

"-very first hand to hold. But you were nothing more than an average guy. And I don't say that to be mean-I don't. There was just something about you that made me need to be your girlfriend. To this day, I don't know exactly what that was. But it was there. . . . and it was amazingly strong."

Had Justin gotten these tapes too? Had he heard the terrifyingly haunting words? The sound of Hannah's voice, broken and scarred.

"I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl that had never been kissed. Never. But I liked a boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. That's the story-the whole story-right there."

That wasn't what I heard; what Jess heard.

I listened to the dull, almost lifeless tone in Hannah's voice as she recalled her first date with Justin, every second, every movement, every thing that really happened. What the rest of us didn't know.

Every word drained me. My hands were the first to go, becoming nothing but shaking objects, dropping the player back on to my lap. Then it was my lips, curling back as I bit into them to keep myself from breaking down. Then finally, it was my eyes, blurring everything around me with tears.

They weren't tears for the Hannah Baker I had known. The smiling, innocent girl with a seemingly perfect life. They weren't for Justin, who had probably sat, backing his head repeatedly against the wall upon hearing this tape. It wasn't for Jess, the girl who'd broke me down until there was nothing left, until I lashed back out and destroyed Hannah on my down.

The tears were for the Hannah Baker that had been created in the minds of everyone at Liberty High. The Hannah who was a slut, a whore, easy. The Hannah Baker that had been driven into the ground, to death. 

***AN***

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Let me know what you thought!

~ChasingMadness24