By now, everyone has heard about the powerful, heartbreaking, and somewhat controversial Netflix Original “13 Reasons Why,” based off of the novel by Jay Asher. And just like everyone else, we need to talk about it. We’re not going to talk about bullying. We’re not going to talk about evil classmates covering up their dirty pasts. We’re not even going to talk about the tapes. We’re going to talk about Hannah Baker and her last few moments on earth, as depicted in the show. Trigger warning: there will be talk of suicide and sexual assault. There will also be minimal spoilers.
Hannah Baker, in S1E1, seemed like a typical, happy high-school student starting off sophomore year in the same manner most high-school kids kick off a new year—with her best friend at a party. She was happy, she was smiling, she was excited to start in a new place. That is, until an endless amount of bullying and two very graphic rapes, one experienced as a witness and one experienced herself, made her believe that she was so unworthy of the life she had that she needed to kill herself.
As I’m sure we’ve all learned, high-school is a cruel, unforgiving place, and teenagers can be, well, assholes. But it’s not the bullying and the assaults that this piece is focusing on. No. What we’re here to talk about is how the director (of episode 13) Kyle Patrick Alvarez adapted Asher’s original book for the screen, and how he depicted Hannah Baker’s suicide.
This is where things start to get graphic, so if this is going to trigger anyone, I strongly advise you to turn away now.
The scene, which has been shown in its entirety to the surprise of many viewers, is raw. It’s real and it’s painful and it leaves a lot of the viewers pretty messed up. Heartbreak, desperation, loneliness, and emptiness all ooze from laptop and television screens every single time this episode is watched. It is not romantic, it is not an idolized or glorified death. It is powerful, it is terrifying, and it honestly is hard to watch. Sarah McLaughlin isn’t crooning in the background, there is no bright light to guide her home. There is only the very real pain that this girl is feeling as we watch her slip away from life, lying in a bathtub, blood pouring out of her arms.
For those who have battled against suicidal thoughts, tendencies, depression, anxiety, or self-harm, this scene is almost impossible to watch. For those who haven’t battled, yet still had a hard time seeing it, this scene gives a much-needed insight into what people who have ever contemplated suicide are feeling, and gives the opportunity for a narrative to be opened.
One of the most horrific things, in my opinion, about the entirety of the scene is not, in fact, that we see Hannah Baker physically taking her own life, but is rather the fact (and how) her parents find her. We see Kate Walsh, best known for her portrayal of Addison Montgomery on “Grey’s Anatomy,” coming into the bathroom after angrily knocking on the door, complaining about how the bathwater was leaking out of the bathroom and onto the carpet in the hall. The look on her face, changing from shock, to disbelief, to complete desperation as she yells at her husband to call 9-1-1, must be the most heartbreaking aspect of the show.
In most shows, books, and films about depression and suicide, the suicide is glorified and the pain of the people left behind is often forgotten, or at least pales in comparison to the pain of the victim. Most of the time, we hear about the suicide, we see a funeral scene, a quick conversation about how much the victim will be missed, and then life moves on. But in this particular scene, we see the most intimate and realistic aspect of what suicide is; the death of not only the victim, but of the parents as well.
You see, though I can’t speak from experience, when a parent loses a child, a part of them is lost with it. It takes a very long time to move on from something like that, if they ever do. And while finding your child post-suicide is something nobody ever wants to do, director Alvarez’s portrayal of the Baker family in this moment allows for a narrative between parent and child to be opened. The fact that this scene made some people queasy, uncomfortable, and heartbroken should be the first step in realizing just how important this narrative is, just how real suicide is, and just how far the “butterfly effect” (as Hannah Baker calls it) can spread.
Be open, be aware, and, most importantly, don’t be an asshole. You never know what somebody is going through.  
If you or anyone you know is battling depression or anxiety, there are resources for you both on and off campus. If you do not wish to utilize these resources out of fear of speaking to anyone you may know, the National Suicide Prevention Hotline is 1-800-273-8255. Please call, please know that your life is worth living.