He looks out into the empty street, allowing me to sit in his car and just miss her. To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.
It may seem that every time someone offers you a hand up, they just let go and you slip further down.
Hannah wasn’t my first kiss, but the first kiss that mattered: the first kiss with someone who mattered.
And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not messing with just that part. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life.
You told me I wrote that poem because I was afraid of dealing with myself. And I used my mom as an excuse, accusing her of not appreciating or accepting me, when I should have been saying those words into a mirror.
I needed a break... from myself.
And at some point, the struggle becomes too much-too tiring-and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.
To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.
I take a slow sip of lukewarm coffee, reopen the book, and read the words scribbled in red ink near the top: Everyone needs an olly-olly-oxen-free.
Two steps behind her, I say her name. “Skye.
Josh turns to me. “I can’t believe she’s writing these things.” “Not she,” I say. “Me.” “Why would anyone say this stuff about themselves on the Internet? It’s crazy!” “Exactly,” I say. “I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.
When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life.
The name sounds almost too perfect. And as I said, you look perfect, too. The only thing left... is to be perfect.
With her fingers running back up my arms, and all this sperm talk, things are getting a little too intense down below. I lean slightly forward, conveniently placing my forearms across my lap.
Words too soft for me to hear at this distance. But in the end, the words reach me.
Step-by-step. That’s how we’ll get through this. One foot in front of the other.
He’s doing sit-ups in his tighy-whities! His chest looks toned, but... tighty-whities?
That girl had two chances. And both of us let her down.
No one knows for certain how much impact they have on the lives of other people – Hannah Baker.
I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighbourhoods entirely new to me. And finally... I discovered I was sick of this town and everything in it.