Tape 3, Side B

Deathbringer felt pain.

He felt pain, and he didn't like it.

What was this? This ache in his heart, the sudden emptiness of losing a loved one. Being unable to talk or feel her anymore. No more soft, gentle talks, no more motherly looks and no more fake relationships.

Mother.

It was like a part of him was dead.

Stabbed and jacked into little pieces. Thousand paper cuts that he wasn't able to protect himself from.

He found out that even paper cuts hurt.

The pain didn't matter, not really. Even the ache could be contained and carefully controlled.

But not this-not the truth.

Truth-the horrible, cruel truth.

The fact his mother, Quickstrike, was dead-dead- that was truth.

He didn't know what to do.

So he went home.

There were still old cigarettes sticks from Morrowseer's stay, and they hardly had anything in the house. Endless boxes. Boxes and boxes and boxes.

He was surprised to find himself disappointed.

What did he expect, though? His mother to greet him at the door? Reminding him not to throw his backpack on the floor? Offering him a small plate of cookies?

His mother was dead.

Dead, and gone. Lifeless. Empty.

This wasn't his home anymore. A few days ago he had moved out, got himself a very small room in an apartment. He apparently didn't need a job until he was an adult, since relatives sent him money every month. He also had some money stored in his bank account, thanks to Quickstrike's will. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Greatness Night, his old friend from elementary school, had met him in Walmart by accident, and they sat down in Wendy's to talk.

Greatness, who used to have a small, thin frame and pale face, had grown up to a totally different person. She had flowing black hair and sharp, black eyes. She was greatness-- tall and beautiful, with power and authority.

It was a little nice for Deathbringer to meet her again. It made him feel a little better, about his life and about everything.

But after their small meetings, when he had time (and no homework) he listened to the tapes.

The tapes kept him sane.

Each tape was a reason for him to stay alive.

All thirteen reasons.

He would make sure that Glory's life would count.

And he did that by pushing Play.

~

I always found the moon beautiful.

So lonely, so cold, so powerful and bursting with beauty,

You were all of these things.

Welcome to your tape, Moonwatcher Foldger.

I'm sorry. I know you can't listen to your tape.

You're dead.

~

It all started when you moved to the school.

Such a bright girl-you were smart, you were kind and you were beautiful.

You easily took the popular seat. Everyone liked you.

I admired you, to be honest. You could have taken the mean route and still had your gush of followers. People would have still treated you like a goddess anyway. Everyone looked at you the same way- you were powerful, but easily breakable. And they defended you every way they could. You could have been mean. And you knew your choices. Mean or nice, you would have still ruled over the freshmen. And a few sophomores.

But, the thing is, you didn't.

There were absolutely no rumors about you, Moon-you were so kind, everyone admired you. They wanted to be like you. You were innocent, so, so innocent.

Sometimes you were too innocent. You never realized how many people liked you. People looked up to you, and you didn't even know it. Boys loved you-Qibli Crabtree, Winter Dickinson, Umber Breckenridge...

People around you changed.

Carnelian Shoult, Kestrel's sidekick bully, slowly became the kind, gentle person she is today. Turtle Painter, the quiet boy that wrote stories on his math notebook, decided to publish them. You helped him become a world-famous author. Even got him a girlfriend for a bonus, your friend from your old school named Kinkajou Stevens.

And you decided to become my friend.

Why me? No idea. But when you sat at my lunch table, with your usual shy smile, there was no going back. Even though you had lots of friends, you seemed a little distant. Mysterious. Like a secret.

A little lonely.

You just came to our lunch table every day. Sat, and ate, and talked. Even at the first day, you belonged. You were the final piece in everything.

It all started with a question: "Is Deathbringer Glory's boyfriend?"

I usually just sat at the lunch table and took a few bites out of my sandwich and left. I didn't go to the library anymore. I really wanted to leave, but when Tsunami replied, "Heck, yes" with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, I had to argue.

"No, he isn't." I quickly snapped. I was very sensitive at the time. I didn't want any betrayal, ever again. I had a few mood swings sometimes. Actually, change that to many mood swings.

Deathbringer remembered the question-how Glory seemed so mad at the idea. He had been a little hurt and disappointed, but the furious blush on her face had been priceless.

"Maybe, but he sure heck wishes he is," Tsunami went on. You, Moon-I have to give you credit. You just seemed faintly amused. It was almost as if you liked our dramatic lunch table.

We just started arguing. Deathbringer Black teased me, and I bet I had a horrible blush on my face.

You did, he thought. The thought brought a small hint of smile to his lips.

The truth was....I wished we were. But we never got the chance, I guess.

"At least I'm not like you guys, all mooning over your little couples," I stated, since I was about to do anything to get the subject off of me.

It backfired a little though. "I don't have a boyfriend," Sunny pointed out.

I always were a little lonely. Starflight had Fatespeaker Cole, which he had met in the eye hospital when he went blind. She had jet-black hair and black eyes, so you can't really blame her that she wore black every single day. She was crazy enthusiastic. Fatespeaker helped him get through his pain. They were complete opposites, but at least they liked each other.

Tsunami had Riptide. He had calmed down a little, turned a little less stupid. A little more human. Changed his group of friends.

Was it bad that I felt jealous he had done all that just for Tsunami?

It made me feel painful whenever I saw them together. I was happy for Tsunami, of course, but I couldn't help the little ache and feeling of betrayal.

Everyone swooned over Clay. He was the sweet, cute guy from the Ag class. He was never really alone.

You were like a light in my darkness. I finally had someone to care for. So what if it wasn't romantic? You were like my little sister, the kin I never got to have.

But we did get a conversation going. After a day or two, we knew each other pretty well.

Suddenly, we were friends.

We had sleepovers. We shared secrets. You just...belonged. You were like the glue of our little group. Everyone enjoyed having you around. You lighted everything up. You always knew what to say. You never ran out of things to talk.

I felt less depressed and suicidal. I felt...

...happy.

You were so-so imperfect, and therefore perfect. You were.. Pure. Innocent. Loving and kind and brave and loyal. Faultless.

You reminded me of a fawn. Beautiful and gentle. You knew who you were. You didn't see things like other people did. You saw things others didn't. You understood everyone. You never judged.

You were thrilled in anything and everything we ever mentioned to you. You didn't think yourself as better than anyone else.

You were so innocent, so beautiful.

A lot of people probably has this question: then why are you in my tapes?

Moon, you did nothing wrong to me. You did absolutely nothing bad to anyone in your life. You were born innocent, and you died innocent.

All you did was die.

I heard many stories. A terrible fire were lit in your house, on purpose or accident. There are always many sides to a story.

The story I heard was that-- it was pretty big. Burned your house to the ground. As smoke filled your house, and fire was hungry for blood, they say screamed.

I can't even imagine a person like you scream.

They say you were crying. You led everyone out, coughing. Everyone was bleeding and had burns. You had the most, they said.

The thing is, you could have been safe.

But, as the story goes, your dog, Bandit, was trapped in your room. Barking like crazy, probably.

Being the innocent person you are, Moon, you went back for him.

Your family tried to stop you, but you won't be stopped. You just stepped into the flaming house without a second thought.

Somehow, you got your dog from your room. You probably had bad burns. Your mother said, over and over again, that you were bleeding.

And the story I heard ends this way-you were coughing. Coughing blood.

You stopped at the door and fell to your knees.

That's what your mother says, Moon. They say you threw the dog, and fell on the flaming floor with a thud.

You made a bed in a fire, and you closed your eyes.

You never opened them ever again.

Poof, just like that. Gone.

You rebuilt me, Moon. You were God's gift to me. A sign of mercy.

And who knows? I might not have killed myself if you were still here today. Maybe you would have made my life better.

Moon, I miss you.

When I heard you died, a knife drove into my heart.

Moon... I loved you. You were like the family I didn't get to have. I loved you like a little sister, and I crippled down when you left me.

I never recovered.

If they stopped there...

You know the drill, don't you?

But, when I had fell down to my knees, other people stabbed me and taunted me and hated me until I fell down.

Until I did...

...this....

Moon, I hope you are in Heaven, or wherever people who did good things in their life goes to when they die.

Because, I won't meet you there.

Did you know what your father said at the interview?

He said, when you were dying, you seemed like you were sleeping. Your face was unbelievably pale, he said. Like a goddess. He said that you seemed like you belonged.

Like... your soul was the fire. He said... You were just smiling as life kissed you goodbye. You seemed warm and safe.

Crazy, isn't it?

And want to hear another thing he said?

He said your hair was on fire.