Book About Amnesia Novels & Stories

“He knows his own name. Ronan. And he remembers his dad’s name. That’s all. He doesn’t know you. He doesn’t know his brother. He doesn’t remember his life before the shooting. It’s gone for now.” My hand went to my mouth. I felt the floor tilt under my feet. “No… no, that can’t…” The doctor put a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s called amnesia. From the injury. Sometimes memory comes back on its own. Sometimes it doesn’t. If we try to give him everything at once, all the people, all the stories, it could hurt him even more. His brain isn’t ready. It might overload him, make things worse.” I wiped my eyes. “So what do we do?”

I was a ghost in his periphery, and I needed to remain one until he was ready for a tangible presence. My dedication to understanding Adrian’s condition bordered on obsession. My apartment, a temporary sanctuary from the world, was strewn with medical journals, research papers, and case studies on amnesia patients. Dissociative amnesia, retrograde amnesia, psychogenic amnesia – the jargon became my lexicon.

This innocent child who was 7 years old at the time woke up two weeks later and she suffered a unique type of amnesia that she couldn’t recollect her name, her past, and events that led to her mishap. She spoke in pure English and it was difficult for the police to trace her parents and where she lived as she could not recall anything. It was also as if there was a powerful cabal that masterminded the attack that caused her accident as all information to aid investigation was completely wiped out. She was such an intelligent and beautiful-spirited girl that every staff of the hospital and even detectives loved her and provided all she needed. She liked to draw and read books so she was given

He'd stood exactly where Lyra was sitting now, folder in hand, clearing his throat the way men do when they're about to say something the listener won't enjoy. "The amnesia," he'd said. "We can't confirm it's permanent. Trauma-induced loss of this severity. it has a pattern. The brain protects itself first. Shuts everything out. But over time, with stability, with safety, it starts to." He'd paused. "Leak. Small things first. Flashes. Faces without names. Emotions without context attached to them. Then more." I had looked at him for a long moment. "How long." "No reliable timeline. Months, possibly. Could be sooner." He'd set the folder down. "I'd prepare for it."

She wasn’t ready to face Amelia yet. When we met at the hospital, we rushed to find Healer Eve. She was standing outside the door to Amelia’s room, blocking us from entering. “What’s this about, Eve?” Dad asked. Eve sighed. “You should know before you go in. Amelia is suffering from amnesia. There is a very likely chance that she won’t remember you. She doesn’t even seem to remember herself. I’m hoping seeing you will trigger something, but I need you to be prepared that it might not.”

After a car accident wipes my memory, my mind is stuck ten years in the past—right after I get down on one knee to propose to Angeline Stone. I tear through every app on my phone, desperate to find any proof that Angeline is actually my wife. But all I see in my contacts are numbers I don't recognize, and my WhatsApp chat list is empty. I have no choice but to call my buddy, Rick Tate, to ask him whether Angeline accepted my proposal. To my surprise, he explodes on me like a lit firecracker. "Did a donkey kick you in the head, Caleb? Did she accept your proposal? You're about to divorce her!" My first reaction after hanging up is—damn, I'm a legend. I actually managed to land an ice quee

Evans pulled me aside and said, "It's not your typical amnesia, like in the movies where they wake up and don't know who they are. He remembers everything: his name, his family, his job, even his childhood. It's more... selective. We call it dissociative amnesia." I just stared at her, still trying to wrap my head around it. "So... he remembers almost everything?" "Exactly," she said, nodding. “The brain is a strange and protective thing. In cases of severe stress or trauma—like a near-fatal accident after a very difficult few months—it can essentially put up a mental wall. It's not a physical injury that wiped his memories, but more of a psychological defense. He's blocked out the most rece

"Where have you been? Why did you leave me? Do you have any idea how hard I've been looking for you?" The corners of my mouth twitched into a faint smile. I looked at him as if he were a total stranger. "I'm sorry, sir. Do I know you?" The color drained from his face, as if he had been slapped in front of the entire crowd. It was exactly what he had done to me—when he faked his amnesia, holding Angela close and declaring that she was his Donna. I didn't give him another look. I simply turned and took the arm of the man beside me.

She turned, guiding Jenny out before the knife could twist deeper. In the doctor’s office, the truth fell like a hammer. "Mild amnesia," the doctor said. "He’s forgotten the person he was most focused on before blacking out. It may return… or not. If he doesn’t want it to, it may never." Anna’s voice trembled. "Then why only her?" "Because she’s the last person he thought of before the trauma. That’s how the mind works." Jenny had been silent the whole time, staring at the floor.

Instead, they exchanged wicked grins, watching me as if I were the victim of a pathetic prank. I silently clenched my fists. Chloe wiped the wine from her lips and sat up straight. “Does this make you uncomfortable, Serena? Oh, that’s right. You have amnesia. You must have forgotten that we always play like this at parties.” “There’s nothing to be uncomfortable about,” I replied, flashing Chloe a bright smile. This she-wolf—my supposed best friend—was now proudly wrapping her arms around Toby’s neck to mark her territory, entirely under the impression that my mind was blank.