False Memories Ch 1 Novels & Stories

Mark said pretty much excited and before I could say no, he was out of sight, "Hmm" I sighed softly,I miss her, I missed her so much. If wishes were horses, if only wishes were horses. Hey guysssss!!! Chapter 18 is out! Yes.. I know it took me weeks to update but remember something, I did anyways lol😝😝 I sincerely apologise for the late update,I hope you keep believing in my writing,"Memories" is an amazing story, I hope you stay put in this journey of memories. Thanks y'all for the support and encouragement, thanks so much. Thanks for taking out your to read this story, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Enjoy 😎😎 Don't forget to vote, comment and share. Thanks Xoxo

I breathe out and let the blood in my veins slow down. In World History, I almost lost my mind. I don't know if I could have listened to one more word of that rubbish. Man, they really messed up with their heads. More than a half were lies and the way the old lady recounted the facts was insane. She kept tapping her long, sharp fingernails on the sloped lectern, while she recited the speech word by word. She didn't even flinch when I growled in annoyance. To be frank, I am not really sure she is even a human being. No mention about the experiment, about the inhibitor, not a word about the fact that their freaking planet is on the verge of dying. What did I expect? I guess that's how memory m

CHAPTER - 24 | cross my heart hope to die ____________ before diving into this chapter. Please try to share your views. I tested something with the last chapters. do you guys want more chill chapters like them or not? please share your views and dont forget to vote. _________ Memories are a little recollection of what we have been through, good or bad. Just like life. The greed within us tells us to never let go of those good memories and always then confides us to erase the bad memories.

I thank her and leave before she can ask why any of this matters now, because I do not have an answer I am willing to give her yet. By the fourth interview, I have stopped being surprised and started being afraid. Each account shifts slightly from its original statement, never in ways dramatic enough to seem like deliberate lying, always small, plausible, the kind of discrepancy any honest person might produce trying to recall a chaotic night a year gone. A different hour. A voice remembered where none was noted before. A detail present in memory that appears nowhere in the written record, or a detail present in the written record that the person now swears they never said.

Stop trying to rewrite history to make yourself feel better about what we enjoyed together. "You're giving me these memories on purpose," I accused. "You're trying to manipulate me." *I'm not giving you anything. We share the same brain, remember? These memories exist in our consciousness. You can access them just as easily as I can. I'm not making you see them—they're surfacing because your body is trying to tell you something.* "What? That I'm secretly some kind of sadist?"

Non-registered DNA sequence. I froze. The throne room, which had felt like an extension of my own body, suddenly felt alien, hostile. *Foreign biological matter.* The memory—the *false* memory—of the miscarriage was a sickening lurch in my mind. The emptiness. The grief. It had been so real. But it was a lie. A story they’d woven to explain the surgical suite, to explain my altered state, to ensure my emotional programming was perfectly calibrated. But what if… what if it wasn’t *all* a lie?

'' Harry answered confidently. ''But... Dad... There is still plenty of time. We can ask her later... Dira has only just regained consciousness, her body is still weak,'' argued Fanny. ''Mom... Testimony is important when it is still fresh in memory, because our instinct is to survive. The brain can quickly in order to forget bad events which will result in partial memory loss,'' said Prof. Hary Bustomi Lecturer in Criminal Psychology, Faculty of State Law. ''Hehehe...'' Anindira laughed, watching her parents start arguing.

You have to stop looking for me. My body reacts as if it’s happening now. Heat. Pressure. A sharp ache behind my ribs that feels like longing and warning braided together. I search my phone. No message. No record. Yet the memory remains—emotionally precise, physically real. If my mind can produce memories that never happened… what else has it rewritten? Leah whispering I don’t feel real. The photo taken before I met Chiara. The stamp that predates my marriage. The way every authority figure sounds reasonable as they guide you into a corner and call it care.

I shuddered. "Yes," I whispered. "But I shouldn't have been there. It was all supposed to be different." "What do you mean, 'supposed to be different'?" I caught myself just in time. I couldn't tell him about the plan. About the fake death. About the money we borrowed from Victor. "I don't know," I lied. "I'm confused. Everything's mixed up in my head." Dr. Chen wrote something on his clipboard. "That's normal after what you've been through. Memory issues are common with severe trauma."

CHAPTER 81 A Century Ago Marcus clenched his fist tightly until his claws pierced his skin and drew blood. The pain cleared the fog just enough for him to reorganize his thoughts. He took a shaky step back from the altar, chest heaving as he took short breaths. The visions still swirled behind his eyes as the false memories began to take root. It was golden and sweet on the surface but he knew it was deadly and poisonous. “No,” he muttered. “You’re not real.” He shook his head. “You’re not mine.”