Brain Lock Novels & Stories

In medical terms, this is known as selective amnesia. He pauses, letting the information sink in before continuing. He tells me that the brain is essentially blocking out memories that might cause me additional stress or harm right now. As I heal, those memories should gradually return. It's important, however, not to force anything—since my mind needs time to recover at its own pace.

I tried to force my head to remember but a strong pain hit me and I clutched my head in pain. What was this painful memory my head didn’t want me to remember...? I stopped trying to force myself to remember. In the past, I have been diagnosed of suffering dissociative amnesia. A case where one blocks out a certain event, often associated with stress or trauma, leaving the person unable to remember important personal information. Something really terrible had happened to me then and I couldn’t remember what it was until after sometime. However, I was scared. Scared of remembering what it was my brain had blocked off this time around.

Arthur had been teaching her how she would be able to block her mind but she had been unable to do so. According to him there was something called the mind barrier or mind block and this was what she needed to put up in order to block her mind. “Don’t beat yourself up, it’s still your first hour trying, you’ll get in eventually,” Arthur said. “But till then, you and everyone else will be able to read my mind,” Amelia stated. “You don’t need to worry about the other pack members, even though you are all connected, it isn’t easy at all to reach me and you through the mind-link,” Arthur told Amelia.

I sat down on the bed he motioned for as he got to work taking my blood for testing. “What kind of symptoms are you experiencing, Luna,” he asked, his eyes focused on the needle puncturing my arm. “Weakness, fatigue, and dizziness,” I admitted. “Elliot had to hold me up while we walked. It feels like something is blocking my memories. I’m unable to think straight and my head hurts when I try to remember anything. Something is blocking me and I’m not sure what it is.” He nodded thoughtfully. He pulled the needle out of my arm and capped the vile of blood he took.

The doctor requested. I wasted no time following him out. “So?” I asked the moment we got out. “The patient's test results are back. Unfortunately, the patient has developed amnesia. Her brain seems to be blocking out overwhelming memories. It's protecting itself from emotional overload….” “What?” “It's a form of psychological protection from the brain… Your wife isn't ready to recall whatever landed her here.” the doctor kept going.

"Because the whole conversation, you were really quiet. Yet, you kept giving the doctor questioning looks every time he said anything." He hesitates and then says, "What you don't remember is when you came out of the bathroom at the gas station, you interrupted a hold up. One of the men had a shot gun and just narrowly missed you by hitting the freezer case next to you, but a few of the pellets ended up going through your head. They got lodged in your brain baby. That is why you have a headache and also why you went blind when it happened." He stops and stares at me when a strange sound comes out of my mouth that I don't even recognize and then he continues.

I take my usual route to work, stopping at my usual bakery for coffee. But it's not a typical morning because I didn't see him. I'm restless and everything is moving in a sluggish motion, voices and car engines ringing in my ears, like I'm trapped in a fun house. I'm going through Locke withdrawals, aren't I? Yes, that's what this is. And it's twice as intense because I've touched him now. Spent time with him. I didn't get my daily dose.

The manager of the perfume factory was still saying something, but I could barely hear what the man was saying, the persistent, maddening itch in my brain making it difficult to focus. Fuck, have you ever had a feeling that there was something crucial you needed to remember but it just remained fucking blank. It was like a memory out of reach, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly elusive. I tried to focus on the PowerPoint presentation projected onto the screen but my thoughts kept returning to the night before. Ryder’s house, the taste of liquor burning my throat. But everything beyond waking up in my own bed was blank… My brain was a jumbled mess, like a puzzle I couldn’t solve. Fucking in

It was heavy and oppressive. “These substances,” George continued, his tone sharpening slightly, “when used repeatedly and over long periods, can interfere with how the brain stores and retrieves memories. They do not just block memory in the moment—they disrupt the structure of memory itself.” My fingers trembled slightly. No. No… “That’s not possible,” I whispered, shaking my head faintly. “I would know if I was being drugged—” “No,” June’s voice came gently from the doorway as she stepped inside, her expression sympathetic but firm. “Not necessarily.”

“He said really mean things to me, and seemed to want to do something horrible to me…” The woman raised a hand to cradle her head and frowned as she tried to recall the hazy scenes in her mind. However, the harder she tried, the more blanks she arrived at. It seemed as if there was a barrier in her mind stopping her from recalling her memories. After thinking about it for a long time, her brain was beginning to hurt, but she still could not remember anything.