It was bizarre when I first heard it, but in a strange sort of way, rather fitting.Memory loss worked strangely. When I opened my eyes in a sterile hospital room six years ago, I didn’t know anything, but I knew some things.I knew how to talk in English, though I had something of a stutter, and my accent was distinctly American. I knew how to use cutlery to eat my food, although my hands shivered and tremored.I knew that I was human, I knew I was male, but my designation? I had no idea what that meant, or what it had to do with me. I didn’t feel anything was wrong with my body because everything was wrong: I’d been in a traumatic accident, and there was a thick bandage wrapped around my head.I hurt all over, and I was confused, aside from having a blank memory.I knew that wasn’t normal.Afterwards, when I could finally walk on my own, and the doctors said that I just might never recover my memory, they told me that I was a Beta, and I had no reason to distrust them. Betas were av
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