Audacious - 13 Reasons Why

Chapter One

She told me she loved me before she hung up the phone that night. 

If you were to ask me if I heard a difference in her voice, if she was acting any differently than  any of the other nights we spoke all night on the phone; I'd tell you that you're crazy. 

Hannah Baker was a beautiful soul, the way that she cared for people. She was my best friend, she knew every time there was something wrong with me and she would go out of her way to speak to me. So, to know there was something bothering her so deeply that it drove her to this point. 

It leaves me wondering if there was something I missed. If I could have been the person to change her mind. Did I ask her how she was feeling that night? I must have, I always do. She must have played it off and told me she was okay. Then I realized she told me... 

"I will be," She said. 

"The next day is always better than the last, right?" I replied. 

"Exactly, Cass. I have to go, I have some homework to do. Love you, forever." 

"Love you forever, Hannah." 

We hung up and I went on with my night like every other night. Not knowing I would never see my best friend again.

Grieving someone feels like a barrier in your life. Something you can't push past. I remember my mom telling me the news, it felt as if the entire world stopped and it hasn't started again. As if I was thrown into a dark pit without any way out; the ladder just inches out of my reach and there is no way to grab a onto it to pull myself out. 

Walking into school and seeing everyone leaving notes and flowers on her locker felt surreal. Not one of the people who stood there, taking pictures with her locker; selfies for god sake, as if her memorial was an attraction. 

I stood by my locker, just two away from Hannah's locker; watching a new girl walk up and place a note on her locker to then quickly turn around and take a photo with it. Posing as if they even knew Hannah. 

I slammed my locker shut and went to homeroom. As I walked towards the classroom, I overheard two girls standing in front of Hannah's locker. "She was so pretty," One of them said.

"What was it again?" The other girl asked.

I let out a defeated sigh as I walked into my class. I sat down at my desk in the back of the classroom and watched our homeroom teacher place her books on her desk and start giving a whole lecture about reaching out if you're feeling depressed. The same speech we've heard every day since Hannah died. 

"There are a number of ways to get help if you need it," She eyed me as she said this, "Or if a friend does, okay? And all of this information is on the board outside of my room or outside of the main office. It's on the Liberty home page..."

I watched as the boy next to me put his hand up, "Ms. Bradley, is it possible we could be done with all this? It's been over a week.. Isn't it healthy to, like, move on?"

The classroom erupted with whispers, either upset with what was said or they were agreeing. "Okay, everyone, thank you," Ms. Bradley attempted to calm us all down.

"Seriously," The kid continued, "I know, it's tragic. But, I don't want to keep being reminded all the time. It's depressing."

People wanted to move on because they didn't really know Hannah. They wanted to just forget her and act like everything was normal because they never really paid attention to her. "We're never done with it, Mr. Pratters," Our teacher said; I could feel people staring at me, I would hear them whisper about me every time I walked down the hall. Sometimes even questioning if I was next since I was so close to Hannah. They blamed me for the continuous conversations in the classroom because I reminded the teachers of Hannah just by being there. "That is why it's important to know the signs that someone you care for might need help," A girl who sat in front of me turned around and looked at me, then she leaned over to whisper to her friend. "I mean, are they withdrawing from friends and family? Is there a change in the appearance?"