A/N: Okay, so I wanted to start doing a few new things with this piece.

First, I would like to thank all of you for your patience when all I was able to post was an extremely vague prologue - if it counts as such. I've had a very difficult month and a half and hadn't had the time to write anything, although I did have ideas.

Second, chapters may be awhile at times. As I've said before I am in college, so that tends to take precedence over my writing, sadly.

Finally, I appreciate any feedback - constructive or no - on any of my writing as the goal is to progressively improve.

Enjoy! xoxo

It's over. It has to be. I passed out a long time ago, how could I not be dead? I can't be dead. Everything is blurry, maybe it's that white light I'm supposed to see as I cross over? No. I'm not dead. There's too much going on around me for this to be death… and I can feel everything. I'm staring at a ceiling light in a hospital, there's cold air rushing through my nose, voices around me – I'm alive. I'm alive. Clay will be happy to know…. Unless he got the tapes – THE TAPES! "Clay!" I pulled away from the comfort of the hospital bed under me, sitting upright, a panic spreading through my body before my mother gently pushed me back down, fixing the oxygen tube about my face.

"Clay just left a moment ago, both he and your father will be back in a minute, sweetheart. You need to rest." I blinked, clearing my vision before looking at my mother. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, worry permanently etched into her face. Her hand took mine as she placed herself back into the seat next to me that she had probably been living in for however long I'd been here. I looked around the plain hospital room, the walls a seafoam green with a few chairs and a small sofa, all littered with my parents' belongings. Different types of flowers, mostly roses by the looks of it, were spread throughout the room. How cliché…These people really don't know me. A vase of chrysanthemums sat on the small counter opposite my hospital bed. The tingling of pins and needles radiated from my wrists, wrapped in white gauze that was slightly stained with blood. Was it fresh? Was it the remanence of what I had done, whenever I had done it? I couldn't tell, and I laid my head back, tears rushing into my eyes. How long had it been since this happened? I should hurt more, shouldn't I? I mean, I cut my wrists open. I opened up a piece of my body and I probably scared the shit out of my family and friend.

"Mom… I'm so sorry… I shouldn't have done this, put you and dad in this situation. I'm so sorry." Tears ran down my face and I lifted my arms to examine the damage I had done. "This isn't what I meant to happen." I felt her shift closer to me, placing her forehead against my cheek. This is her saying she forgives me. She's not ready for this discussion yet, but she believes that I'm sorry. I nodded, understanding, and calmed myself down. "How long has it been? How long have I been here? How long have you been here?" I had so many questions but avoiding them seemed to be the best option as I noticed my mom holding her own tears back.

She sat up and took a deep breath before smiling small at me. "It's been about a month, sweetheart, the doctors had you in a medically induced coma to help you heal, but now's not the time for this. Give yourself time to rest some more before we jump into anything, there's a lot you're going to need to know." She squeezed Hannah's hand lightly as she let sleep take over, once again.

The thirteen reasons I tried to kill myself stood around me in a halo of shadow. 'Look what you've done, Hannah.' They took a step closer and I tried to pull away, but my feet were held fast to the darkness that was now spreading around me, coming closer with each step the reasons took toward me. 'You forgot the fourteenth reason, Hannah. Yourself. You could have stopped yourself from doing all of this.' They continued to step closer, growing larger, their expressions meaner with each step – hate glowing red in their eyes. 'YOU CAUSED ALL OF THIS!" A chant began to ring around me as they took another step – 'you caused this. You caused this.' I screamed as they over-came me, pulling me deeper into the darkness – all the while chanting.

Hannah's eyes shot open, sweat beading her forehead as she came down from the sudden panic she was in. Just a nightmare. It's the meds, Hannah, calm down. She looked around the same small hospital room she had been in earlier, her parents were talking with a doctor and Clay sat in the chair next to her hospital bed, listening silently to the update on Hannah's condition. "Hey, Helmet." Everyone's focus shot to where Hannah rested, relief taking over the room.

"I think with that, I'll be leaving Mrs. and Mr. Baker. We'll talk more when she's had something to eat." Hannah's doctor smiled small at the weary girl and walked out, closing the door behind her.

"Hannah…" Clay stepped forward and sat on the edge of her hospital bed, smiling small. "How are you feeling?" Hannah took in the sight of him. A collage of yellows and purples coated his face with the occasional cut – swelling pulling away from the handsome that was his face, although worry was still in his face as it always seemed to be.

Hannah sat up, scooting as close to him as her wiring would allow her. "How am I feeling? What happened to you, Helmet?" Clay chuckled and kissed Hannah's forehead, earning a look of confusion from the groggy girl. "No, seriously, what did you do…?"

Clay shook his head and looked down at his hands clearing his throat before glancing at Hannah's parents, receiving a nod of approval before sighing. "I listened to the tapes, Hannah…" Hannah's stared at him in horror as he kept silent, looking her in the eye. Of course, he's listened to them. Tony was supposed to make sure each person got them. And if he's willing to talk, the means my parents know about them, too. Perfect. "I looked in to most of what you talked about… including what Bryce did to you…" Hannah shot a look at her parents who were holding each other's hands, watching Hannah with careful eyes. What Bryce did to me… and Jessica, and who knows who else.

"Well, spill it, Helmet. What did you do?" Hanna reached up to touch his face and sighed. "Something stupid by the looks of it…" Clay nodded and took her hand, pulling it away from the bruising.

"Stupid is accurate. I went to his house, pretending to buy drugs and got him to confess… this," he motioned toward his face, "along with some other things happened during said conversation. But I got him to confess to raping you and Jessica." Hannah shook her head and looked down at her hands. This is my fault. If I hadn't left those damned tapes. "But there is good news. The police took the tapes and all the photos Tyler took as evidence for a pending case against Liberty High. This whole thing will most likely be going to trial because you documented it all – against Bryce, against the school. All of it. You will get the justice you were looking for that day you tried to tell Mr. Porter and told everyone else in the tapes." Hannah nodded, taking in the news, but still pulling her thoughts away from Clay's words. Justice… is that even what I wanted? Is that what this is…?