Tape In 13 Reasons Why Novels & Stories

Just the clink of the tray I set down was enough: surgical tape, a flame-blade still glowing orange, water I wouldn’t offer. I circled him. His body twitched with every click of my fingernails against the tray. “Tonight,” I said finally, my voice silk wrapped in glass, “I don’t want screams.” I bound his thighs with surgical tape,tight. So tight his pulse fluttered under the skin. No room to wriggle. No room to run. Just raw exposure. Then I pressed the blade to his shoulder. Not to cut. Just to sear. The skin hissed.

"I don't care what you want to do to me! I don't care what you spent! I just—I need to get back to my pups! I need—" "I have had it with you!" He reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out duct tape. My blood runs cold. "No—" "Yes." "Please, Shawn, please don't—" But he's already grabbing my wrists. His hands are warm against my skin, his grip firm but not painful as he tapes them together. "This should keep you from killing yourself." He huffs, clearly frustrated but I don't care. "You're insane!" I try to kick him, but he moves too fast. "You're a psychopath!"

“No. No way. You’re not tying me up like some kidnap victim!” “Oh yes I fucking am. You doze off every five minutes when we study. Head nodding, eyes closing, drooling on the page. This way you stay put and actually focus. Trust me it’s for your own good.” Before I could jump up and bolt he was already looping the tape around my wrists, taping them loosely to the chair legs behind me. Not so tight it hurt bad, but tight enough I couldn’t lean forward or slump or escape without ripping it. “There. Comfy? Now focus.”

I press my legs together instinctively, trying to shield my stomach. Please—please, not my baby... Lily straightens and laughs, clapping her hands. “God, look at you,” she sneers. “Miss Perfect Astrid. Always the golden girl. Now you’re just... pathetic.” Her gaze darkens. “I love seeing you like this. Trembling. Crying. Powerless.” My vision blurs with hot tears. I try to speak, but I can’t due to the duct tape Lily rips the duct tape from my mouth. Pain burns my skin. I yelp, gasping for breath.

I said as i gasped, giving the letter to her. "It's her writing" She said. "Of course i know it's her writing" I said as i began to panic. "Who on earth makes tapes before you kill yourself?" She asked. "Well, apparently you don't watch thirteen reasons why" I scoffed as she sighed. "This is so not my sister. This is not Amelia. She wouldn't make tapes and she wouldn't kill herself" She whispered. "So what do we do now?" I asked. "We?" She echoed.

" I said and moved to pick a tape from the BDSM box. "Don't you fucking do that Thea!" He yelled but I went ahead. He moved his head giving me a tough time but luckily the men helped keep him steady and I sealed his mouth with the tape. These men didn't know my full history with Trevor or why I was doing this to him but they clearly didn't care and were all in for it.

Stephen cries and when I look at him again, I see some blood running down his wrist, probably from the chain breaking a bit from him moving around so much. Some of his hair is matted to his head with sweat along with tears running down his face. "We need to focus and see what we can do,"I whisper to him, having to focus so my words don't jumble together into one. I fight against the duct tape, feeling the pull on my skin as the sticky part connects with it. I can't find the energy to break it, which makes me hate these stupid drugs that they keep giving me.

Tate pressed his lips together in this sympathetic smile for me. "Again more like a curse." I repeated. "Let me punch?" "Yeah, sure. Tapes in that cupboard. Don't break the bag." He warned me. "Yup, got it." I gave him a thumbs up as I walked away. I taped my hands and punched at the bag. I didn't punch too hard, just hard enough to relieve some of this frustration. I really need things to get better with Zerena. This disappearing shortly after appearing is getting old fast.

“You must learn how to wrap a present.” I stared at the table. “Why.” “It shows love.” “I can show love without paper.” “Not in this realm.” I frowned at the supplies again. “I do not trust this.” “You will be fine,” she said, patting my shoulder. She was wrong. Instantly wrong. She handed me a roll of tape. The thin clear strip gleamed under the lights, deceptively innocent. “What is this,” I asked. “Tape.” “What does tape do?”

The memory hits him like a physical blow. That snowy night eight years ago, the girl who carried him on her back for miles through the blizzard clearly had severely injured legs, didn't she? She limped with every step. Cried out in pain. Left bloody footprints in the snow. But Celia's legs in these videos... "The dates," he says suddenly, frantically checking the timestamps. "When were these taken?" "Some are from last month," Margaret says quietly. "Some from last week. Some from three days ago."