Buried Memories Novels & Stories

"No can do, Your Majesty. You need to give us a direction first. Everyone would only become hungrier if we run around like headless chickens and come back with nothing." No one wanted to die of hunger, and they thought I had a point. So, they turned to Queenie and made the same request. Queenie was panicking, her back drenched in sweat. Then, her eyes lit up. "There's a hill straight east, and the base is covered in mushrooms! We can forage for those! And there's a field further east. It's something the previous survivors left." She smiled smugly. "See? Told you they'd forgive us if you'd just apologize."

For as long as I could remember, I’d felt it, this gaping hole inside me as though memories from my past had been carved out deliberately. Those memories had stayed buried for years… until Freya came back. Now they kept surfacing at the worst moments, fragments that left me raw and hungry for answers I wasn’t sure I wanted.

Their silent presence in my vision was a chilling reminder of the buried memories that lay hidden within my mind, waiting to be unearthed. The spectral girl and the silent, drifting bodies created a surreal and haunting tableau. It was as if I had been transported to the very heart of my own subconscious, and this river was a conduit to my past. It was here that fragments of my memory and the specters of my past converged in a nightmarish dance.

Samantha's with me, I didn't want to risk her life but, with what happened a while ago, she's at risk. The memories were still hunting her every time she hears gunshots and things involving violence she would space out or hallucinate. She panicked a while ago and now, she's sleeping on my shoulder. I guess the past was still a dark room for her, it left her unhealed scars. She couldn't let go of it. I was like her when my parents died. The scenery I witnessed kept on bothering me every time I closed my eyes but a mafia boss couldn't be weak, so I tried my very best to remove those memories from me and finally move on from it.

"Why is the case so close to you?" "The girls ..." he muttered, clenching his fists so that his nails dug into his flesh. "Do you still remember Maria?" His friend nodded wordlessly. Maria was a fluke and the beginning of Joshua's investigation. 10 months earlier Joshua was tired. Last night he worked the night shift and today, on Sunday, no, it was now Sunday, one of his buddies had celebrated his birthday. Actually Josh hadn't planned to stay there that long, but the time had somehow passed and now he was wandering around the edge of the harbor in the middle of the night looking for the stupid cat from his friend's neighbor. Apparently she ran away because of the loud music and the old lad

Ava's POV I stood in front of the inconspicuous building, my heart pounding in my chest. The address had led me here, to an underground organization known as "Memoria." It was a clandestine group that specialized in erasing memories, wiping away entire portions of a person's past. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and yet, I couldn't ignore the gnawing curiosity that propelled me forward. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped inside. The interior was dimly lit, with muted colors and a hushed atmosphere. The air was thick with anticipation, as if the walls themselves held countless untold stories.

How could the people I loved and trusted the most betray me in such a horrifying way? Tears streamed down my face as memories, long locked away, flooded my mind. The echoes of my past torment reverberated through my every thought. I had pushed those memories deep into the recesses of my consciousness, burying them beneath layers of denial and self-preservation. But now, the floodgates had been opened, and I couldn't escape the pain that washed over me.

And it did work, I didn't notice that I survived that day without being jealous of the others for that whole day. The next painting on the other corner still on the left side shows a bunch of broken things. An eyeglass, vase, face mirror, and a phone that has flooded with unread messages. Only the phone has the blood on it. This is the painting I made the day my parents told me that I will be engaged to someone.

They whispered feeling. Her mother’s hands braiding her hair by a fire that had long since burned to ash. The first time she disobeyed an order because her body told her the data was wrong. The laughter of someone she once loved who had died before she could apologize. These were not memories she had lost. These were memories she had buried—carefully, deliberately, believing survival required their silence. The grove did not ask her to speak them. Only to feel them again. And she did. One by one.

The absolute malice was almost smothering. Trembling from the effects of her encounter with the intense emotions, MIra stepped away from the ruins. Remembering something else, she gasped and put her hand over her mouth and gazed at the ruins in a new light. A strange, soul-deep sorrow overtook her and she began to mourn. For what, she couldn't really say. But she felt the sorrow in the depths of her soul. Then she realized. Soulmates had died here. Together. It was the sorrow that she had felt. The beast of the castle had lost his love in a final battle and his grief had caused his death. What that beast had been was unknown to her and she was intrigued with the idea that a race of something