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

A joke. That's all this was. A pathetic attempt at getting a scared out of me. Hannah Baker was dead.

I gnawed at the inside of my lip in anticipation as I unfurled my fingers and hit the pay button.

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

The cold breeze from my crakced bedroom window finds its way to the sheet of sweat along the back of my neck.

This is impossible. What the hell does this shit even mean?

"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."

I slammed the heel of my hand into the stereo, pushing myself from my ratty mattress and across the room to the window.

This was some all some sort of tasteless joke. Bryce and Dempsey probably thought it was funny to have me practically shit myself over this.

The small, occasionally logically part of me knew somewhere deep down that not even Bryce Walker was heartless enough to do something this morbid and cruel.

That was Hannah's voice. Hannah Baker's. The girl that killed herself two weeks ago.

"Fuck you." I shouted out my window, not knowing exactly who I was saying it to.

Maybe it was Hannah, who had taken her own life and sent our entire school into a whirlwind of pathetic attempts to save kids with stupid assemblies. Maybe it was Zach, who's perfection had started to outshine my own. Or maybe it was Bryce, Bryce who-

"Boy, where the hell is my stereo?" I stood upright, my eyes on the locked door as the knob of it continued to jingle in it's hinges. A sure sign that my mom's idiot boyfriend was trying to get in once again.

"I'm using it for a school project." I lied, crossing the room in a few steps to throw the box of cassettes, and the one that was sitting inside the stereo, into my duffel bag.

The last thing I needed was for Seth to barge in and take the tapes and give them to Officer Standall as a way to get me out once and for all.

"Look here, you little fucker. If you don't let me into your God Damn room-" I headed back toward the window, grabbing my Letterman on the way out. I didn't care enough to turn around and slam it shut, if the piece of shit wanted to scream out into the night, disturb the neighbors, then I'd let him.

I slung my duffel bag over my shoulder, my eyes on the dimly lit street laid out in front of me. The street I could walk for hours with my eyes shut.

It was the exact same thing ever day. Mom allowing the worthless excuse for a human being to treat me like I was no more than an old couch she wanted tossed out on the street. I knew they never checked my room to see if I was there, they hardly had a clue what was going on at school. The last time Mom even attempted to speak to me was that night. The night Hannah Baker died.

"Was she a friend of yours?" Mom had asked, higher then the empire state. I had only shrugged it off and walked out of the room with a quick "I guess you could say that."

Millions of words had wanted to come flooding out; I would have fallen on my hands and knees and begged her to kick him out if I had the chance. I knew better than to try, she cared more about her next fix than her own son.

"Foley!" my head whipped up toward the voice. Blinded by the bright headlights of a car seconds later, I turned away again, blinking until everything began to come into focus. When I turned back, I was surprised to find a familiar red Mustang purring on the street beside me.

I took a step back and crouched enough to see through the window, immediately greeted by a familiar face, "Tony?"

He was one of those guys I'd seen him around school, but steered cleard of him as much as possible. He was always on his own or with that journalist fag and I knew, without a doubt, Bryce would have a field day with hassling me about it.

What Tony Padilla was doing on my side of town this time of night, I couldn't even begin to imagine.

"Get in, kid." He patted the passengers seat, acting as if it were some sort of peace offering. All I could do was stare blankly, trying to come up with any reasonable answer to why he'd be smiling right now.

Hadn't he been friends with Hannah?

"I'm good." I tugged my hoodie over my head and continued down the dark street, keeping my eyes ahead with complete knowledge that the Mustang was edging along the street beside me.

"Foley, come on. Get in the car." I turned back toward Tony, doing my best to look as intimidating as he did. Of course it wasn't even close to being possible.

"I said I was good, man. Just go." I made a gesture with my hand, holding back what I really wanted to say.

"I know about the tapes, Foley." I haltd to a stop, my head jerking back toward the guy tapping his fingers along the steering wheel impatiently.

"What?"

"I know about Hannah's tapes." I stood there, my feet feeling as if they were glued to the asphalt.

The guys had gone as far as sending the bullshit tapes to the entire school?

"What a joke, right?" I responded, laughing without any emotion.

"Justin, get into the car." I glanced at the dark and empty street around us once more before opening the door to the Mustang and climbing in.

What did I have to lose?

"Do you have the tapes with you?" Tony nodded toward the duffel bag on my lap.

"Did Dempsey and Bryce put you up to this?" I responded, ignoring the sick feeling that started to spread through my chest.

A small part of me knew better than to think that this was all a joke. There was no way that they could get anyone to sound like her, the haunting melodic sound of Hannah Baker's voice. Those tapes weren't a joke. Hannah. . . Hannah must have recorded them.

"Justin, you and I both know Bryce and Zach had nothing to do with this." Tony went on when I said nothing, "Have you listened to any of them?"

"T. . .the beginning of the first." What the hell, Foley? Why are you so flustered?

"How far in?" Tony avoided my questioning look.

"Us being part of it, her death. I stopped it there." I looked out the windshield and at the bright red hood of the Mustang to keep my mind from drifting back to what the tape had said.

"Have you listened to them?" I asked.

"Yes." I opened my mouth.

"Were you one of th-us?" I watched his expression darken.

"No."

"Then why-"

"Hannah left them in my care. I can't get into detail until you finish the tapes, Foley." I touched the dewy window, feeling the coldness of it spread from my fingertips to the rest of my body.

"So they're real then?" I whispered.

"Yes." Tony was just as quiet.

"But she's dead, s-"

"She made them before. . . before the incident. Here's my number. Call me if anything else comes up or you have any questions." He pulled the car over along the side of the road, unlocking my door. After a second of silence, he opened his glove box and grabbed a cassette player. Why a seventeen year old guy had one in a car like this I wasn't sure.

"Here. Pass it to the next when you're finished." He set the player in my hands, "Now get out of my car." It was odd, how Tony's attitude how changed so drastically within the few minutes I was in the car. He had gone from quiet and soft spoken to hostile without a second thought.

"Tony-"

"Come back to me when you finish the tapes, Foley." I nodded, climbing out of the car with my bag and cassette player. I shut the door gently, afraid he's come out and beat me to death if I damaged the beauty in any way.

"Thanks, I guess." He gave me a quick, swift nod before driving off into the night. I watched the tail lights until they disappeared into the darkness and out of view entirely.

"Hannah." I said, looking down at the cassette player in my hands, "You're a drama queen."

I unzipped the duffel and plucked out the first tape with my name painted across it in what appeared to be nail polish, shoving it into the cassette player.

I grabbed the headphones Tony had given me and slid them on, slinging my bag back over my shoulder as I hit the fast forward button until it reached the spot I had left off at.

"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?"

Because she's an attention seeking drama queen that thrives on other people's pain.

I let her go on with some pathetic, twisted joke before letting myself focus in on what she was saying again.

"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."

Did Hannah get some sort of twisted pleasure out of saying this shit?

"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."

Is she joking?

"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."

Tony.

"This was not a spur-of-the-moment decision."

You sure about that?

"Do not take me for granted. . . again."

No one ever took you for granted, Hannah.

"You're being watched."

By a dead girl?

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

I paused the tape and took the map from the shoe box, tucking the box securely back into my backpack.

"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."

A tight knot furled in my stomach when I saw the location of the first star.

The playground.

"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 laugh left her mouth then, one that sent a shiver through my entire body. The laugh was vacant, lifeless. Like she had forgotten what emotions were supposed to go into it.

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

I continued to walk, pausing the tape until I was within hearing distance of the playground. The place I had kissed Hannah for the first time, the night that everything seemed just a little simpler and easier for the first time in my life.

I hit the play button, completely unprepared for the words that followed it.

"Ready, Mr. Foley?"

No, I'm not. I'm not ready.

***AN***

Hope you guys enjoyed! 

Let me know what you thought! 

~ChasingMadness24