The Beginning and the Memory// 13RW

01 The Beginning of The End

"To say that I knew you, Emmalee Andrews, would be an understatement. We were practically inseparable from the day that you started at Liberty High. You had noticed me in communications class, looking terribly sad and out of place. You had been told things about me from the people you met trying to make friends with you, things about me being a slut, and many other horrible things. But, I could tell that you knew, that I was none of those things.
So what did You do? Something that surely no one else would have done.
You befriended me. Hannah Baker. The well known slutty girl that would let any guy get in her pants.
There was an empty seat beside me and, disregarding all of the other open seats, you chose it. You slipped your backpack off your shoulder and onto the floor, slid into the chair, and looked over at me.
I was surprised that you had sat next to me. I never expected you to smile at me and introduce yourself. And I never expected you to become my best friend. My rock. The one I confided in with everything. You were the only person I trusted."


I awoke with a start, my throat dry and scratchy from being asleep for awhile. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, gripping the sheets of the hospital bed in my fists. I tried to sit up, but I couldn't. I couldn't feel my legs, and it scared me.
"What's going on?" I asked, barely audible. I looked to the nurse beside me, "why can't I feel my legs? Why can't I move?"
The nurse slowly sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to grab my hand and hold it in hers. I let her.
"Honey, this is gonna be a lot to take in, okay?" The nurse ran her thumb over the top of my hand. I nodded slowly, scared of what she was going to tell me.
"You were in a car accident," she told me, "you and one other boy-"
"Jeff," I nodded, "is he okay? Where is he?"
She purses her lips, looking down at our hands for a slight second then looking back into my eyes, "he.. didn't make it."
I shook my head slowly, "no.. no, that can't be right."
"Emmalee."
I looked up, tears blurring my vision, but I could see that it was Clay Jensen standing in the doorway.
"Clay," I cried, "Jeff, is he-"
Clay nodded his head before I could say anymore; I didn't have to.
He strolled over to the bed, and hugged me as gently as possible. "I should've stopped you guys from going on that beer run," he whispered. I felt the warm tears hitting my shoulder, and I rubbed his back slowly.
"We should've been more careful, Clay, it's not your fault," I told him, my voice scratchy.
"And now Hannah's dead, too," Clay sniffed, crying a bit harder.
My heart stopped and my stomach dropped. Hannah was dead?
"What?" I whispered, in shock.
"Here," the nurse handed me a styrofoam cup with a lid and a straw, "drink this, it'll help with the scratchyness of your throat."
Clay wiped the tears from his face, standing at the side of the bed while I sipped on the juice.
"I'm gonna go talk to Dr. Herald," the nurse told us, but I stopped her before she walked out.
"You never told me what's wrong with me," I exhaled slowly through my nose. I couldn't comprehend the fact that Jeff and Hannah were dead at the moment, and I was worried about myself and what had happened to me in the accident.
She looked sympathetically between Clay and I before saying, "you were ejected from the car through the windshield. You may never walk again, Miss Andrews."

A few months later
"Why is everyone staring at me?"
I rolled myself down the hallway in my wheelchair next to Clay, trying to ignore everyone's stares.
"Maybe it's because you're crippled now, and they're not used to it," Clay joked, and I sighed.
"Sorry, too soon," Clay quickly apologized, wheeling me down the rest of the way so I could take a break.
"You'd think they would be more respectful about it," I muttered, then shook my head. I should have expected less from the student body of Liberty High. After all, they were so rude to Hannah.
We slowed down when we neared my locker, which was right next to Hannah's. I stared at the pictures and notes on her locker, from people that never even talked to her when she was alive. They sure did talk about her, though.
"No one really cares about you until you're dead."
I tore my gaze away from the locker and focused it on Clay, who had clenched his fists and pursed his lips together in anger.
"Hey," I reached out and grabbed his hand and he looked down at me sorrowfully, "none of this matters."
He stared at the locker, then nodded as he exhaled loudly through his nose.
"You're right," he told me, opening my locker for me and helping me get my books out, "at least we know who the real Hannah was."
"Exactly," I responded quietly, "I don't know how she could do it. She was doing so good."
"Emmalee," Zach Dempsey made his way over to Clay and I, adjusting his back pack on his shoulder, "how are you?"
I looked up at the tall boy while clay wheeled me down the hallway.
"How does it look?" I asked, looking down at my legs afterwards.
"You, uhh, you look.. good, Emm," Zach kind of stumbled on his words, causing me to sigh.
"Thanks."
"Look, I'm sorry," Zach stood in front of Clay and I, causing us to stop. "I'm sorry that we got into an argument at Jessica's party, and for letting you and Jeff leave. If it wasn't for me, you would be walking right now, and I'm so sorry, Emm."
Everyone had began to stare at us, making me feel uncomfortable.
Zach noticed and turned to face everyone.
"What the fuck are you all staring at?" He snapped, "mind your own god damn business."
I looked down at my lap, trying not to cry.
"Zach, let's talk about this later okay?" Clay volunteered for me, and I looked up to see Zach's face. It was a mixture of anger towards the student body and sorrow for both me and Jeff, and maybe even guilt.
"Alright," Zach said firmly, reaching out to touch my shoulder gently. "See you later."
I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I watched Zach walk down the hallway.
"Thanks for that," I told Clay. He began to wheel me to our first class together- English.
"Anytime," Clay replied, then pushed me through the door.

By lunch, I was sick and tired of hearing people whispering things to each other about me. It was every single class, and I couldn't concentrate on anything because of it.
"That really sucks that that happened to her."
"It's Hannah's fault, I heard they got into a fight at Jessica's party."
"I heard it's because Hannah kissed Zach, while him and Emmalee were dating."
"She was trying to get back at them by leaving with Jeff. She was all over him at the party."
"Wow, what a whore. She deserves what happened to her. But poor Jeff."

I tried to brush it off my shoulder as I wheeled myself into the cafeteria. The chatter stopped slowly as everyone noticed that I was in the room. I sighed with annoyance as I looked around for Clay, or someone that I actually got along with in this place.
"Stop fucking staring at me," I said loudly, glancing around the room. One person in particular caught my attention- Courtney Crimson. She looked guilty, and she should be. She knew damn well it was her and Hannah in that photo that got sent around, but she told everyone that it was Hannah and another girl. Dumb bitch.
I spotted Jessica Davis as well, looking just as guilty. And Alex Standall right next to her. They all looked guilty of something.
"Emm, over here!"
I looked over to see Clay and Tony waving me over to their table. Clay stood up to meet me and wheel me the rest of the way.
"You don't have to," I told him, as I always did. He said, "I know" which was his usual response.
I sighed and sat my lunch box on the table. School lunch was overrated, I'd rather bring food from home.
"How's it going?" Tony asked me, taking a bite of a sub sandwich. I pushed my food to the side, leaning back in the wheelchair.
"I wish everyone would quit talking about me," I told him, annoyance in my voice. "I mean, I get it, I'm crippled at the moment, but that doesn't mean I'd like to be stared at and hear people say I deserve it 24/7."
Me and Tony exchanged a bit more conversation before realizing Clay was kind of out of it, not even paying attention.
"Clay?" I asked, and he looked over at me. His eyes were bloodshot, and I could tell he hadn't had any sleep last night.
"Yeah, what's up?" He responded rather quickly. He looked around the cafeteria again.
"You okay, man?" Tony asked him, and we waited for a response that never came.
"Justin hasn't been at school," Clay mentioned, and me and Tony exchanged confused glances.
"So?" I asked, "it's Justin."
"Yeah," Clay agreed before standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" I asked him, wheeling after him.
"I have to do something," was all Clay said before he left the cafeteria.
"What's up with him?" I looked at Tony and he shrugged, but something in his eyes told me he knew, he just didn't want to tell me.
I huffed, putting my food back into my lunchbox, "I'll see you later, Tony."
"Do you need help?" Tony asked, reaching out to me, but I shook my head.
"No, I can do it. Thanks."
I left the cafeteria, feeling everyone's stares on my back as I did.