Fear Of Being Forgotten Novels & Stories

The ink was uneven, as if the writer’s hand had trembled. My Sons, I don't expect forgiveness. I don't even expect you to read this. But I had to try. I have spent the last six months in a cell, thinking about legacy. I thought legacy was a name. I thought it was money. I thought it was control. I see now that I was wrong. Legacy is memory. And my legacy... my legacy is fear. That is what I leave you. That is what you will remember when I am gone. I wanted to change that. Just a little. Before the end.

“Tell me what you fear most.” The question caught me off guard. My mouth went dry. “Why?” “Because fear shapes men more than love or hunger,” he said. “I need to know yours.” I searched his face. For once, I saw no mask, no calculation. Just something raw, something that wanted an answer. My chest felt tight, but I gave it to him anyway. “Being forgotten.” He went still. Completely, utterly still. The way he did when he was deciding whether to kill or spare.

It was the fear of a man who had finally found something worth protecting. "You're afraid," I said. He was silent. I could feel the weight of his fear pressing against me through the bond. It was suffocating. I could feel his shame too, the guilt of being afraid, the belief that he should be stronger. He had spent so long being strong for everyone else that he had forgotten how to be weak. He had forgotten that it was okay to be afraid. He had forgotten that fear didn't make him less of a man. He had forgotten that vulnerability was not weakness. He had forgotten that being afraid was part of being human. He had forgotten that he was allowed to feel. He had forgotten that he was allowed to b

The specific emptiness of a space recently occupied by someone you have spent years being afraid of. I had not been afraid of him tonight. That was worth noting. Not because being unafraid made what he had done acceptable, it did not and nothing would, but because the absence of the fear told me something about where I was now versus where I had been. Fear of Jayden had been so constant for so many years that I had stopped experiencing it as fear and had started experiencing it as the background condition of my existence. Like the cold in the basement or the hunger from skipped meals. It was simply what being in my situation felt like.

But another part of me feared the truth waiting on the other side of those memories. Because maybe forgetting was the only thing keeping me alive. Outside, the child's laughter continued to echo through the gardens. Inside my room, I lowered my head and silently cried, hoping that whatever remained hidden inside my broken memories would stay buried a little longer. Because deep within my heart, I knew one thing. I was not afraid of forgetting. I was afraid of remembering.

“Of course, you don't need to worry because I'll send you a message every day to remind you of our friendship and to make sure you don't get lost on your own. But you have to keep me informed of your whereabouts so I know you're alive and well.” “Thank you, Estelle,” said Belladonna as she smiled slightly. Now it was just a matter of time. Sooner or later, she knew she would forget her friendship with Estelle. “Since you’ve told me what happened, you don’t need to worry anymore. I will do my best in helping you keep track of what you forget.” “Thank you, I’m not worried about anything else but forgetting you and our friendship is what I fear the most.” “No. That won’t happen. You should writ

And I needed her not to do that. I didn't know what I would do if I ended up losing her in the process of worrying so much about myself. What we all should focus on is how I can fully recover my memory and not worry about what has already happened. "Why don't you forget about that. Let's not talk about it now. We should focus more on what's important now and that's getting my memories back. And don't be afraid, very soon, I will surely go back to how I was before. I strongly believe that."

I look down at the dark water. The answer slips out before I can stop it. "I'm afraid of being forgotten." The words sound small. Childish. But they're true. My throat tightens. "What if everyone I love eventually leaves?" The question hangs between us. Lucian doesn't hesitate. "You won't be forgotten." His eyes meet mine. "And you won't be left. Not by me." The certainty in his voice steals the air from my lungs. No hesitation. No qualifications. No maybes. Just certainty.

I had only been there a handful of times before, one when Shane was throwing this huge party for his 25th birthday and a couple of times he’s forgotten something at work, and I’ve had to walk it back to him. I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling which hung in the air, it was as though deep in my gut I knew what had happened, but my mind just wasn’t catching up with it. I have a tendency of fearing the worst in any situation, so my mind was taking up the time that it wasn’t listening to my gut and begin to make up even worse scenarios in my mind.

“You’re leaving soon. And I keep thinking about how it’s going to be when you go.” I bit my lip. “You’ll meet new people. New girls. I know how it goes.” He slid off the counter and came closer. “Sienna…” “No, just—” I stopped him with a hand. “Let me finish, okay?” I took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just… I’m scared. What if you forget me? What if you wake up one day and think all of this was just—” “Don’t say that.” His voice was soft but firm. “I could never forget you.”