Before You Knew My Name Novels & Stories

In this fragile state, fragmented memories and emotions intertwined, creating a chaotic tapestry of confusion. Within the depths of my comatose mind, a single name echoed incessantly—a name that stirred something deep within my soul. "Zara ," I called out, my voice a mere whisper that seemed to dissipate into the ether. It was a name laden with significance, though its origins remained shrouded in the haze of my unconsciousness.

But you could see she was getting on a little, so I’m also glad I was able to see her before it was too late. “How did you know?” I ask which was the only question I had for her at the moment, she only smiles shaking her head kindly at my questions. “You all seem to know about The Unknown Luna A, but you knew it was me before I had even been born, how?” I ask needing to know the answer, I have been going over that same question since I had received my mother's letter, how?!

I said as the pain started to subside as I relaxed and tried not to think. “Child you must have really bumped your head harder than I thought. Do you remember who you are?” She asked curiously. Who I am? I thought about it for a few seconds and realized I didn’t know my own name. “No, I don’t know who I am. I can’t remember anything before I woke up.” I admitted as I began to tremble realizing I had no memory of who I am or my life.

My parents are music professors, and their university is always hosting these music salons and exchange events. But they never took me. After I graduated from college, I was desperate to see what it was like, so I begged my mother for a visitor's pass. She was busy helping my sister Ella fill out an application for one of those concerts, and she cut me off cold: "Everyone attending is a top-tier musician. You can't even read sheet music—walking in there, you'd just stick out like a sore thumb." A few days later, I stood in the freezing wind, listening to the applause rolling out from the auditorium. My sister stood at center stage, performing alongside a bunch of renowned musicians. That nig

No, that’s not— that’s not possible. “It is.” That doesn’t make sense, my voice came out tighter now. They’re dead. I— I was told they were dead. You were told wrong. Silence hit again. But this time— It was disbelief. How…? He took a step closer. Just… closing the distance. Your real name, he continued, voice steady, “is Aria.” My breath caught. Something about that name— It didn’t feel foreign. It felt like something I had forgotten, not something new.

Or was it because she could not bear to lose two men fighting over her? I suddenly felt exhausted. “Camelia, I don’t like seeing you like this. Let’s just break up.” Then, I picked up my suitcase. Without another glance at her expression, I walked straight out of the apartment. Fate was unpredictable. I had not taken more than a few steps when a surge of pain washed over me, and my vision began to blur. The next second, everything went black. The last sound I heard was Camelia’s scream. When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was the stark white of a hospital room.

“Would you like to hear more about me?'' For some reason I wanted to talk about my feelings today, just to get this heavy feeling out of my chest. And wolfie was best for it because he cant talk. I took his pur as an answer because it's not like he is going to open his mouth and answer me. “My name is Evelyn. Evelyn Reagan Samson is my full name, but shhhhh….” I pressed my fingers to my lips, “it's a secret. Why? I don't know, but my grandparents and parents taught me to never reveal my last name to anyone, so I just go by Evelyn Reagan.”

17th July --- “Ding dong I know you can hear me Open up the door I only want to play a little” A young girl was busy crouching on the ground as she taps the soil with a shovel three times in those three mounds of dirt that appears like Mountains of dirt and sands. She made sure it was the exact same size because, for her, everything should be organized and perfect.

she said looking at me annoyed and grateful. I walked over to the machine with the crying woman. She grabbed my hand telling me this was her first time to hit a jackpot. I shared in her excitement with her the best I could as this was an everyday occurrence for me. Removing my hand from hers I radio surveillance. "144 to surveillance." "Go ahead 144" 144 was my number, it's how dispatch and everyone else on our frequency identified who we were talking to, no names just numbers. "I have a payout with cashier326 at machine z-751 for $10,000.00"

"Yeah! I remember once, on his birthday, his fiancee bought out a bunch of screens in the city to wish him a happy birthday. A reporter asked what he thought, and he just said it was a waste of money and meaningless." "Right, I remember that! This is like one of those tragic love stories—he finally realized too late." "But what was her name again?" "Something like Stella Walker." As the researchers chatted away, they suddenly turned toward the girl sitting silently at the far end of the table, quietly eating her lunch. "Stella... Wait, your name's exactly the same. Even your last name matches."