Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?

I repeat his words in my head. What's going on? What's going on? Oh, well, since you asked, I got a bunch of tapes in the mail today from a girl who killed herself. Apparently, I had something to do with it. I'm not sure what that is, so I was wondering if I could borrow your Walkman to find out. 'Not much,' I say.

And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.

Why does it say she has three hundred and twenty friends?" Josh asks. "Who has that many friends?

I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why.

Normally when a person has a stellar image another person's waiting in the wings to tear them apart. They're waiting for that one fatal flaw to expose itself.

As a writer, my only responsibility is to tell a compelling story.