Sweet Dreams, Hannah

He walks, an unsure stride in his step. It has been a year since he has stared at her red locks from behind, the sound of Mrs. Lightwood’s voice in the background. The wind picks up, sending his hair into his eyes slightly. Black covers green as he doesn’t move the hair. Eventually, he returns back to the garden, sitting down on a bench.

His mind takes him back to the street.

The street where it happened.

A soft sigh ensues.

How did he fail?

Where did he fail?

What could have went wrong?

It was so perfectly planned.
And now he was stuck here. Where he knew no one. The others always scratch at the walls, and talk to people who aren’t there. He is not like them. He is not crazy.

“I’m not crazy….” he whispers to himself.

“Zachary! Come on inside, its time for roll call before bed time.” a nurse calls.

~~~

Closing my eyes, I fall backwards onto my bed. After sending my most recent email to Zachary, I feel as though I was punched. My stomach now feels funny, and I just want to sleep.
However, the sound of the front door closing makes my eyes open, and I sit up with a yawn. “Hannah! Are you home yet!?” I hear my mothers voice.

“Yep, mom! The bus just dropped me off!”
I feel bad for lying, but you got to do what you’ve got to do. “Alright. How does pizza for dinner sound?”

“Fine, mom!” I call, closing my laptop and sliding it back underneath my bed. I swiny my legs over the side of my bed and climb off, stretching my arms into the air. Then, it hits me.

Zachary continuously asks me in his letters, if I had discovered the purpose of the circles yet. I then realize that I haven’t touched them at all since that day. I don’t think I’d be able to, being that I know they were from him. On the other hand, they must be pretty damn important if he keeps bringing them up.

I’ll look at them tomorrow. Right now, I’m just not feeling it.
The envelope in my backpack practically screams at me to call Zachary’s parents. Or is that my thoughts?

How am I going to explain this Will and Testament to them? Won’t they want to go to the police with the envelope or something? Well, what good would that do, being that Zachary is already dead.

I cringe.

Pulling the envelope out from my backpack, I slip Zachary’s phone out from it. Paging through his contacts, I find the three numbers that he was talking about. However, my thoughts are elsewhere.

I wonder if he left anything on this phone.

Most of his contacts are family, save for two numbers that are out of state. There are no text messages. However, when I click on his pictures, there are fifty-six of them.

I see pictures of what I assume to be his dog. A black Labrador, with its tongue hanging out as it stares up at the camera, and Zach, with its tongue hanging out of its mouth.
That’s when I notice a familiar face with red hair, blue eyes staring into the camera.
How does Zach have a picture of me?

I can tell that it was taken in school, in English class. I’m looking directly into the camera, with a surprised smile on my face.

Then it hits me.

‘ “Hannah, “ his voice warms me as I re-kindle the thoughts. It was a study hall day in class. I was working on my drawing sketches. I felt Zachary tap my back. Assuming that he was going to hand me my circle, I turned around, but was face to face with his phone. “Smile!” he laughs softly, taking a picture of me as I smile, surprised.'

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I cannot believe I had forgotten this day, until now. Going back to his contacts, I decided to call the first number before any of the others. Hitting the green ‘call’ button, I held the device to my ear and waited, butterflies swarming my stomach.

‘We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. Thank you.’

I sighed softly, ending the call and looking at the second number. If this one didn’t answer, third times the charm, right?

I repeated the process once again, and waited, nibbling on my lip.

“Hello?”

I froze.

A woman’s voice spoke on the other line. I didn’t recognize the voice. Maybe it was Zach’s mother. Maybe it was someone else. I had no idea.
Suddenly, my throat went dry, and I licked my lips, unsure of what to say. I should of thought this through before calling.

“I-um….hello?” I spoke unsurely.

“Yes, may I ask who is calling?” the woman spoke again, relatively calm.

“Hello, this is um, Hannah Baker.”

Silence.

“I see…” the woman’s voice suddenly became uneasy.

I bit my lip.

“Um…..I was just wondering who’s number this is.” I spoke softly.

“How did you get this number?”

My heart stopped.

“I…Um..I found a phone, and this number was in it. I’m trying to find out who the phone belongs to.” I lied, but I at least hoped it would get me somewhere.

“This is Lindsay Weston.” she said softly.

Oh god, Zachary..

“What kind of phone is it?” she asked me, being that I didn’t speak.

“It’s an iPhone, one of the older ones though.” I said.

“Hold on, let me look at the caller ID.” she said, and I could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.

Then, a soft gasp.

Silence.

“How…..Where did you find this phone?” She whispered, and I could tell that she was on the verge of crying.

I was at a loss.

“Listen, Mrs. Weston. I have a feeling that things like this would be better said in person. Please, can we meet up somewhere?” I pled with her. “I know you don’t know me, but I really need to talk to you.” I finished.

I waited for her response anxiously.

“Oh, Hannah. I know you.” she said softly.

Wait…..what?

“We can meet. I’ll drive into town. How does Gino’s diner sound?” she asked. Gino’s was the Italian restaurant in town. I wonder where they lived now, being that she had to ‘drive in’ to town.

“O-okay, Mrs. Weston. Thank you.” I told her.

“See you soon, Hannah. I’m leaving now.”
The line went dead, and I began to feel lost. How did Zach’s mother know who I was?
This was all too much, I’m not sure that I can handle this anymore. I never expected to be having a dinner date with Zachary Weston’s mother; more than a year after he died.

“Mom!” I called, running down the stairs.

My mother was on the phone, most likely with the pizza place, so she held up a finger to me. “yes, the plain pan is fine. Twelve seventy-two? That’s fine. Twenty-five minutes? Thank you.”

She hung up the phone, and looked at me expectantly.

“Taylor wants me to go to Gino’s with her. She’s um…meeting this guy that she likes from school, and she wants me there for moral support.”
My mother looked at me, incredulously.

“You’re….going out?” she asked, if it was the most complicated question in the world. I sighed softly. I hadn’t been out of the house, except for school, since that day. I just never felt like going out and enjoying the world, when the one person I wanted here most couldn’t.

“yes, mom…” I sighed.

“Okay! I’ll save you some pizza if you’re hungry! That’s fine! I’m sorry, It’s just…you haven’t gone out since that boy from school die-..”

I held up a hand.

“Mom…please.” I said softly.

Her face fell.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” she whispered. I felt like I was going to cry. I think this is the first casual, non-yelling conversation my mother and I had since…you know.
She walked up and hugged me gently, and I tensed. After a moment or two, I wrapped my arms around her waist gently.

“I love you, Hannah. You know that, don’t you?” she asked softly.

Tears began falling.

“I know, mom..” I said, biting my tongue to stop crying. She must of sensed this, because her arms tightened, but only slightly.

“Go have fun.” she smiled, wiping her eyes gently, then mine. “I’ll save you some pizza.” she smiled, walking into the kitchen.

I smiled and stood rooted to the carpet for a moment, before I grabbed my bag, and headed out the door.

Gino’s had a big Italian flag, flying out side of the restaurant. The wind blew it in all directions, making slapping sounds as the wind rippled through the fabric. I pushed open the door, looking around the restaurant. It wasn’t that busy, however, there were some customers in booths, and at the bar.

In the back of the restaurant, in a booth on the left side, sat the woman who I was looking for.
She was basically an older, female version of Zachary.

I bit my lip.

Her green eyes met mine, and she smiled slightly. “Hannah!” she called, waving me over. The walk to that booth felt like I was wearing ankle weights. When I sat down across from her, she broke the silence.

“How are you?” she asked.

I looked up from the table, at the spot I had been staring at, and into her face.

“Um…” How was I, really? I had been reading letters from the dead, breaking into houses, and leaving school.

I was just dandy.

“I’m alright I guess, and you?” I asked. Her smiled faltered slightly.

“I am….well.” she spoke.

I nodded.

She continued to study me. Her eyes felt like Zach’s, as he watched me leave him on the floor,

Charlie standing over his bruised body. I couldn’t take much more of this.

“I can see why he likes you so much.” she said with a gentle smile.

I looked up again.

“Excuse me?” I breathed out gently. First off, who did she mean by ‘he’? Second…why did she
say ‘likes’, present-tense, instead of liked…….

Past-tense.

“Zachary. I can see why he likes you so much.” she said with a soft sigh. My eyes widened as I looked at her.

“I’m afraid I still don’t understan-”

“Zachary isn’t dead, Hannah.”

Holy shit….What?

“What are you talki-…”

“The day of the crash, he had to undergo a last minute open heart surgery, in an attempt to save his
life. He was very lucky. They managed to save him right at the last minute. I still don’t understand how he is alive today. Either someone was watching over him from above, or his mission on this earth is not complete yet. Or it hasn’t even begun.”

I swallowed.

“After his three months of rehabilitation, he was admitted into psychiatric care. He was declared a danger to himself and others, so he is to stay under their care until they deem him fit to live in normal society.” she said, biting her lip after she was done speaking.

My head was reeling.

Zachary is alive?

Where is he?

I need to see him.

Now.

“Wh-…I don’t understand. He is alive? Where is he? Is he okay? When can he come back to sch-”
“He is never coming back to Casper Falls ever again, Hannah. And you can never see him. I’m sorry.” she said, and looked at me seriously.

“But…you don’t understand! I need to see him, I have his phone..he….he sent it to me in this!” I produced the envelope, showing her everything except his first letter to me. That portrayed feelings towards his parents, and I didn’t want her reading that.

“I-it says here, that he l-left all of his belongings to me in his Last Will and-” “He is not dead, Hannah. That document is useless.” she said, pushing it across the table towards me.

I sighed.

“May I have his phone back, please? I’d like to give it to him if he is allowed to have it. Give him something familiar that he remembers, so he can at least have some of his old life back.” she said wistfully.

“I am a part of his old life! Why can’t I see him! You even said that he likes me!” I said, feeling the tears coming.

She hesitated, only for a moment, and then spoke.

“Because, Hannah! You are the reason that Zach tried to kill himself!” she said, glaring at me now.

“W-wait….this …I don’t understand. You’re making no sense!” I said, the tears falling now.

She looked at me. I could see something in her eyes; and indescribable emotion, but she recovered
quickly.

“I have to go.” she said. She snatched Zachary’s phone and stood up, walking quickly to the exit.

“No..wait….Please!” I called, scrambling to get out of the booth. I ran after her, seeing her get into her car.

“Mrs. Weston, please! You don’t understand! I need to see Zachary. I….I-” “Goodbye, Hannah.” she said, and raised her window, before speeding off down the street.

I ran out into the middle of the street, watching her taillights disappear into the fog. Tears falling, I turned around to walk back to the sidewalk, but I was blinded by the headlights of a tractor trailer in my vision.

Scream.

Collision.

Blackness.