Okay, please please please read, or at least skim over this.

This story is based on the book 13 Reasons Why, and if you've read it, then you're good. But if you haven't read it, its about a girl who committed suicide and sent out tapes to the people who caused her death, hence the name 13 Reasons Why. But Stan pretty much explains everything later in the story so you really don't have to worry about anything.

This story is filled with a lot of triggering material. Self harm, suicide, physical and emotional abuse, depression, mental illness. Don't take any of this lightly, and please read carefully.

The story is told in Stan and Craig's perspectives. Stan is in italics, and Craig is in regular text.

Most of the story is already written, so updates should come once a week.

If you could take a little bit of time to send back some commentary, that would be awesome, and updates would definitely come faster!

Craig Tucker was in his room on a Saturday afternoon. It was four weeks after school had ended, and he was still having trouble grasping the fact that when he went back to school that August, it was his final year of high school. Three years had been wasted at South Park High, and there was one more year before he went to college and wasted another four years, only this time, drowning in debt.

The doorbell rung, usually around the time the mail arrived. The Tucker's mailbox had been knocked down earlier that week by some sixth graders and they had yet to upright it again, so whoever brought the mail that day had to go up to the door and send it through the mail slot.

There were five white envelopes, and two orange clasp envelopes.

He went back upstairs to his room, throwing the white envelopes to the side on the couch, keeping the two orange envelopes.

The clasp envelopes were addressed to him, which left him confused. The only time he got any mail was when the dentist or doctor needed to inform him he had an appointment. He undid the clasp on the first envelope, which had instructions written on the front telling him to do so.

The only items in the envelopes were a piece of paper titled "Instructions" and a map, with various locations circled in red marker.

The paper titled Instructions read:

1. Listen
2. Go where I tell you
3. Pass the tapes on.

Start on #13.

"What the fuck...?" Craig muttered, immediately reaching over to the second envelope, ripping it open through the middle. Various tape recordings scattered on the his lap and to the floor. All were marked in blue, and as he gathered them up, he realized that were marked in numbers, going from one to thirteen. He picked all of the tapes up, setting them down on his desk. He read over the paper labeled Instructions one more time before picking out the tape labeled 13.

He stared at it for a moment, before setting it down. He stood up, stretching his arms behind his back before walking to his bed. For a moment he dug around underneath before he found his old tape recorder that he used as a kid.

He sat back down, and inserted tape 13.

I guess this thing is working. Okay, intro. Lets go.

Craig froze. That was Stan's voice. A voice he hadn't heard in weeks.

Hi. I'm Stan Marsh. I'm seventeen years old. I live in South Park, Colorado...and...hm...what else...

Oh yeah!

And if you're listening to this, then congratulations. You're one of the reasons why I'm not here anymore.

You're one of the reasons why I killed myself.

Craig rushed to pause the tape, his hands shaking.

He was one of the reasons Stan had killed himself? What the fuck had could he possibly had done?

For a few minutes, he sat in silence, the only noise was his breathing, which had quickened at the sound of Stan's voice.

He took a final deep breath, and pressed play.

But I guess its unfair to say this without at least explaining why you're one of the reasons. So on somewhere on the rest of the tapes, why you are one of the reasons is explained.

Are you sick to your stomach yet? Have you already shut me off?

Like so many of you felt, like so many of you did, while I was still alive?

This is the first tape. An introductory. With the tapes came a map, and simple directions. Listen to the tapes thirteen to one. You're on thirteen right now, obviously. Then twelve, then eleven..and so on.

Every so often, there'll be a location you need to go to. Go to it. This is not a choice.

You're being watched. And they'll know when you haven't gone to a location. They know you're on the tapes.

Simple enough, right? Listen to the tapes, go to the locations on the map, then pass the tapes on.

Right.

Go ahead and skip to twelve. Prepare yourself, that just might be you.

Craig swallowed deeply, and picked up tape number 12. Stan had said it wasn't a choice. That he was being watched.

He inserted the tape and pressed play.

Before you find out exactly who number twelve is, I want you to leave your house, or wherever the fuck you are, and go to the first location.

Street number 1002. Go to that house.

But don't worry number twelve, you don't have to move a muscle. You're already there.

He paused the tape again, getting annoyed with how often he was having to do it. The house number was just down the street from his, but he couldn't remember who lived there. Why it had suddenly slipped his mind, he didn't know. His parents wouldn't be home until that Tuesday, having taken a few days to visit his dads parents. Craig hadn't gone, as his grandparents on his dads side didn't...appreciate...the fact his parents had adopted someone of color.

They were racist fucks, in Craig's opinion. It wasn't his fault he was Peruvian. But he didn't care anymore. They were dead to him.

He went back and dug out the headphones for the tape recorder from under his bed. The remaining tapes he shoved into his book bag. He plugged the headphones in, and went downstairs, pressing play and sticking the recorder into his sweatshirt pocket when he reached the bottom.

Number twelve. Man, how long have we known each other? Since, what, we were babies? That's fucking insane, dude. Seventeen years...

Kyle, its been great having you-

Wait, Kyle? Craig knew that Kyle had been an asshole to Stan after freshman year, but enough to send Stan to suicide?

-as a best friend. You've really...oh. Wait. I was about to say, 'been there for me', but I don't like telling lies. Especially on these tapes. Its only the truth now.

We stopped being best friends at the end of sophomore year. For a really long time, I wondered what I'd done wrong. I'd stay up night after night, thinking about what I could have possibly done to have driven you away again. It really...It really messed me up.

The walk was short, and Craig suspected he wouldn't be there long. When he finally reached Kyle's house, he sat down on the sidewalk outside. Both of the cars were gone from the driveway, so he suspected they had left already for a trip.

Especially when I found out I hadn't done anything. It had been entirely your own choice to walk away from a friendship worth fifteen years. That was the first time since seventh grade I'd...cut...myself. When I realized you'd done it yourself.

I was angry, and rightfully so. You'd left me with no explanation as to why. I mean...I just wanted an explanation.

I'd tried to get one, multiple times. But you'd always turn the other way and walk off. You wouldn't even look at me. It was like you'd gotten some sixth sense to fucking know whenever I even came within ten feet of you.

Maybe I did do something. Maybe it was just my depression finally driving you away. Maybe you just couldn't handle my fucking mess of emotions. Oh, sorry about all that, by the way. Emotional stability is kind of hard when you're a depressed, suicidal alcoholic.

Stan sighed deeply, his voice cracking with the next sentence. Craig swallowed, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

I just wanted-

I just wanted to know why.

I gave up on finding out during the middle of junior year. Obviously you were done with me, and any and all attempts at this point were just too fucking tiring. Physically and mentally.

You didn't have to leave Kyle.

And most of all, you didn't have to leave without telling me why.

Next tape.

Craig slowly felt a headache creeping up. He ran a hand through his hair, groaning quietly in pain. He didn't want to go to the next tape, but he had to. He had to find out which tape he was on, and he had to find out what he'd done.

You can leave Kyle's house now. You're done there. Next, I want you to go to street number 28201. Its not far from Kyle's house. You'll be there in five, ten minutes, tops.

Craig stood back up, shivering slightly from the cold. The next house, he knew who lived there. He'd been there when Token had dragged him and Clyde along, so Stan wouldn't suspect anything was happening between Token and...God, Had that really been one of the reasons why Stan killed himself?

After this, there's another location I want you to go. But just wait. I don't want you to go there yet. First the house.

Craig sighed, wishing he had brought his truck. He made a mental note to walk back to his house before going to the next location.

While you're on your way there, let me tell you story.

Isn't that what Stan had already been doing though? Craig snorted, shaking his head.

Once upon a time, there was a girl, and there was a boy. The girl and the boy were in love. Well, more like they had been conditioned by themselves and everyone else around them to believe they were. For years they stayed together, denying and repressing their true feelings, and lived in beautiful, beautiful ignorance. But that ignorance, that daydream, would soon be shattered.

The girl and the boy, they fought time after time, screaming and screaming...What they had believed to be the perfect fairy tale, had turned into a terrifying nightmare.

Are you at Wendy's house yet? If not, it shouldn't be long. I'll go ahead and start.

Me and Wendy were together...man...since we were eight? It wasn't a very...steady, relationship though. We were constantly on and off. Sometimes we'd stay together for a few weeks, sometimes a few months, sometimes even just a few days. There was no stability.

Craig had noticed it from the beginning. They obviously were trying for something they couldn't have. Nobody else had really noticed, falling for their act as a happy couple. But Craig had seen right through it.

Wendy, I don't...I didn't love you. Not like that. And I don't think you loved me like that either. We just wanted to believe we did.

You deserve someone who truly does love you, Wendy. After all those years you put up with my bullshit, you...you need someone who will actually be there for you.

But you're still on the list. Deserving of love or not.

I feel like everything that comes after this first part is going to be very contradictory to everything I've said before.

Then what was the point of the first part?

But Wendy, you kept me in a box. A very small box. Lets be honest, you're clingy. I'm not really saying that to put you into that 'crazy girlfriend' stereotype. Trust me, I'm not. But you're clingy. Get over it, none of us are perfect. I mean come on, if you're on this list, you're way less than perfect.

This box you put me in, I didn't have a lot of room to move.

I was. Stuck.

Your clinginess, I'm pretty sure it had to do with why we tried to stay together so long. You didn't want to let go. You'd dug your perfect, purple nails in, and you weren't letting go, even if it meant leaving a few scars.

Craig couldn't even imagine what Wendy went through listening to this. Well, maybe for now. Maybe when he found his tape he'd understand. He didn't want to though. Not at all.

He sat down on the curb outside Wendy's house, hoping she didn't see him and come outside.

You wanted someone perfect. Someone who'd always be by your side, someone who'd always agree with you, someone who loved you...

Obviously you weren't getting that from me. But your parents, my parents, our friends, they thought we were the perfect couple, and you didn't want to let anyone down.

So you tried to make me the perfect boyfriend. And that's when you put me in the box.

You dragged me everywhere you went, to rallies, to protests, to debates...Jesus, it didn't matter if I had something I needed to do. It was about you. And just about you.

You'd see me do something you didn't like, or didn't consider to be appropriate for the 'perfect boyfriend', and you'd make me stop. You tried to change things about my personality just so you could make me into the person you wanted me to be.

But it really wasn't worth it. You did it all for nothing.

Why was it for nothing though? I guess everyone else doesn't know. Wendy and Token kept it a great secret.

Are you confused? Wendy and Token?

Yeah. Wendy and Token.

Craig already knew. He'd wanted to tell Stan, but Token had begged him multiple times not to. And if he had to choose between Token and Stan, he'd choose Token every time. Token had been his best friend, not Stan.

I mentioned earlier a second location. Benny's. It's where I saw them together. Its where I found out she was cheating on me. Pause the tape. It'll take a while for you to get there.

Craig took that as his opportunity to go home and take his truck. He placed the headphones around his neck, breathing in deeply.

He knew that Stan didn't like him, but what had he done that was so terrible to make him commit suicide? Every time he thought it over, he couldn't think of anything. He didn't talk to Stan unless they were partnered for a project. That was it.

He dug into his backpack and got out his keys. He dug them into the ignition, started the truck, and pulled out of the driveway. He turned on the radio, hoping that music would clear his head. For the rest of the drive, he drove the tapes out of his mind and focused on the road.

When he finally got to Benny's, it hit him all over again. Stan's death, the tapes...

He put the headphones back over his ears, took the tape recorder out of his pocket, and pressed play.

You cheated on me Wendy. With someone who I consider a close friend. Or well, I guess I should say considered. Token, you're dead to me, and don't worry, your tape is coming up real soon.

God...

You made me put up with all of your bullshit for so long, only to cheat on me. Why didn't you just fucking break up with me? Why did you put me through all of your perfect boyfriend fuckery and then cheat on me? We could've ended all of this bullshit a long time ago. We could've been happier a long time ago.

I could've broken it off too. I know that. But when you have your dad constantly on your back, telling you if you didn't have a girlfriend, then you were obviously a fag, it was kind of hard to bring myself to do it.

So on one hand Wendy, you deserve love, but on the other hand, you're a bitch, and that box you forced me into left me trying to find happiness I couldn't get.

Next tape.