Tape In 13 Reasons Why Novels & Stories

The thought of the aftermath of the tape and how it could continue to affect me wherever I go made my whole body burn with pain. I bit my lower lip, fighting back the gut-wrenching scream that was pushing against my throat. Tears rolled down my eyes uncontrollably. Even with how hard I tried to pull them back and compose myself in everyone’s presence, I couldn’t. They had already seen my sex tape—what more could possibly be worse than that? “Get away! Put your fucking phones away!” Emma yelled at the students taking videos of me. “You bunch of fools! I wish you all hell! I wish you worse!” she screamed.

They were more effective than any blade at breaking a stubborn spirit. I pulled the tarp off the cages. I heard her breath hitch. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her go pale. Her mouth opened as if she were about to beg, but she swallowed the words before they could come out. I ignored her. I dragged my heavy metal toolbox over and set it at her feet with a loud thud. Then, I pulled out a roll of heavy-duty duct tape. I didn't waste time with ropes. I taped her wrists and ankles to the frame of the chair until she couldn't move an inch.

If I’d wasted another second growling at Delgado, asking him questions he was never going to answer. She would have been gone. Blown apart in front of a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and I would’ve gotten there just in time to watch it happen. My hands were shaking like a junkie’s when I reached for the tape. “Easy,” I muttered, even though nothing about this was easy, nothing about any of this was ever going to be easy again. “I’m here. I’m right here, I’ve got you.” I ripped the tape from her mouth as carefully as I could manage with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling, and still hated myself for the broken sound she made when it tore free, her skin pulling and a fresh line of red at the

The foamy golden liquid spills across the table and everyone jumps back. I hit my hand to my head. “I’m so sorry, guys. Let me get some paper towels. Tate, would you mind helping me?” I give Tate the look and he nods immediately. “We’ll be back in a minute,” he says to the guys. As soon as we’re out of earshot, Tate grabs my forearm and spins me around. “What the hell was that about?” “Okay, so this is sort of embarrassing …” I start. For the next few minutes, Tate listens attentively.

It clattered to the floor, and he kicked it away. “Callum,” he called over his shoulder. “Bring the tape.” “No—no, please—” I tried to pull away, but the man holding my hair yanked harder, forcing me to my knees. Pain shot through my scalp. “Please, I’ll give you money, anything! Just let me go!” “We don’t want your money, sweetheart.” Callum appeared with a roll of silver duct tape. The sight of it sent pure terror through me. I bucked and twisted, trying to wrench myself free, but it was like fighting a brick wall.

I want him blind with anger; it’s the only way he’ll make a mistake. He grabs the back of my neck and slams me into the floor, straddling my back. He pins my arms with his weight and begins winding the tape around my entire head. I fight him with everything I have, but I’m fading. The tape covers my mouth, catching my hair in the adhesive. He wraps it again and again, and for a terrifying second, I think he’s going to cover my nose. But he stops, standing up and looking down at his work.

I swallowed hard. “It’s okay, Tara. We can stop there if this is too much. You can’t rush your healing process. It takes time. We’re here to talk about how you feel.” “I’m okay. I need to get it out of my chest and head.” My chin began trembling. My grip around Mad’s hand tightened. “They barged into the room. I was so terrified.” Fresh tears streaked down my cheeks. “You don’t have to continue,” Mad whispered. “We can end it up here, Tara.”

It was a gilded cage within a cage. Liam didn’t fight it. When he realized his laptop wouldn’t connect, he simply set it aside and returned to his physical puzzle, his face a blank mask. The quiet resignation was worse than any outburst. It was the sound of a soul retreating into a fortress they couldn’t breach. Elara tried to talk to him that evening, bringing him tea. He took the cup with a murmured thanks, his eyes distant. “Liam, we know… about the tape. Why did you do it?”

He must have popped it before I walked in. I thrashed, kicking backward with my one remaining heel. It hit his shin and he hissed in pain but didn’t loosen his grip. Instead he spun me around, slammed my back against the open trunk, and forced me down until I was half bent over the lip. “Stop fighting,” he growled, voice shaking now. “You’re only making this harder.” He grabbed the duct tape. Ripped off a long strip with his teeth. I opened my mouth to scream but he stuffed a rag inside, something that tasted like motor oil and old cloth, gagging me instantly.

The tape tastes worse. Todd moves into the red square of floor around me like he’s stepping into church. He doesn’t look at the wolves until he has to; he looks at my hands, cord burned me raw, at the places his drills said tuck and I did until I couldn’t. The cord on my ankles is slick and stubborn; he cuts it the rest of the way off with a small knife I didn’t see him draw. The tape around my wrists peels my skin; he mutters an apology like a spell and takes it anyway. Everything that comes away from me makes a sound, like the room itself is inventorying loss.