Posted: Sunday, November 4, 2012 3:11:31 PM
A tube of deep red lipstick sat on the bed, inviting me to let it dance across my lips. The beautiful sequined lace black gown hung impatiently in the closet, waiting to enswathe me in its silky, form-fitting layers. My new DSW black pumps might as well have been Louboutins, I was so excited to wear them. The appropriate fixings were in place. I was ready to get ready. Well, after I finished 13 Reasons Why. The clock crept on, and the pages turned. Instead of channeling my inner prima donna, I came up with 13 reasons why Audrey Jeanette’s quince just wasn’t that important. My social life could take the blow.
You see, I was lost within the inside of Hannah Baker’s words. I felt the confusion, the stomach-dropping points that Clay Jensen felt. I understood the sadness of the situation, never having actually experienced anything like it. Hannah Baker is the “main focus” of this novel. I would say main character, but from page 1, Hannah was dead. She committed suicide, leaving tapes behind giving her “thirteen reasons why.” They were to be listened to by each recipient, each reason, then passed along to the next, altering their lives forever. These heart-wrenching tapes give stories of her being hurt so badly; her very desire to live expired. Each cut was deeper, each reason more inclining, each story ebbing on the very edge of human indecency. Until Clay’s story. He was probably why she didn’t do it earlier. He was her sunshine. Her only sunshine. But someone took that sunshine away, creating exhibit A: the most depressing, but also the most curious, book I’ve read.
Yep, this book was a thinker. It was also a crier. This was the first book to provoke tears out of my rock-hard facade. That stupid mascara stuff ran down my face, and I looked something like I would imagine a back-alley drug dealer would at 3:00 am. Asher provoked thoughts on if I could ever listen to tapes like that. It made me wonder if I ever know I’m going to die, if I would leave something like this. Not that I would ever take the beautiful gift of my life intentionally, but if I had cancer, maybe I would. My last gift could be to give other people the insight of my head, my thoughts on the “last chapter,” just as Hannah did. Additionally, this novel changed me as a human being to be nicer. This is because it made me hope I will never be part of anyone’s “13 reasons why.” Which I really hope I’m not for Audrey. Since I skipped her quince and all.
Ironically, I wrapped the book and gave to Audrey on the following Monday, attaching a handmade card and a re-gifted gift card. Well, I hope she likes GameStop. I’m sure she does. Most 15-year-old girls do, right?