M E M O R I Z E Novel Novels & Stories

I ate, slept, and lived alone, not thinking of her once. That convinced me that I was over it until insomnia hit me, relentless and unforgiving. Sleep evaded me night after night. I turned to pills, hoarding them until one desperate evening, I downed the entire bottle with a chaser of whiskey. There was no sharp pain, just a numb emptiness, like life had lost all meaning. As my consciousness faded, I dreamed of her for the first time since she'd left. It was snowing, the cold biting deep. Nora appeared as her 17-year-old self, draping a red jacket over my shoulders. "How are you still such a mess at your age? Take care of yourself."

The girl spoke softly. "You tried." Silence. The First Memory's hands trembled. The Seven stared in disbelief. The little girl smiled again. "Stories that are forgotten eventually die." A pause. "But we never existed." The words chilled reality. The girl pointed toward Nova. "And now she remembers." Memories exploded inside Nova. Not memories. Anti-memories. Things that had been removed from existence. Things erased before they could become real. Possibilities abandoned. Worlds rejected. Lives never lived.

I answer it anyway. “Hello.” “Memories can kill. Maybe it’s better that she doesn’t remember.” A voice says over the phone. “Who is this?” There’s no answer, the line goes dead. I hang up the phone and stare at it as if that’s going to make the number appear, or the caller call back. Then it hits me that I'd better call Mikey. I dial his number. “What’s up, Bryce?” “I got a strange call.” “And?” “And the caller told me that maybe it’s better that Tanya doesn’t remember because memories can kill.”

The last thing I remembered was the heat. A jagged, searing white light was tearing through my chest, the smell of burnt silk, and the taste of my own life leaking onto the cold pavement of the Nairobi docks. I remembered Lorenzo’s face—not the stoic, terrifying Mafia heir the world feared, but a man coming apart at the seams. I remembered his scream. It was the loudest thing I had ever heard. Then, there was nothing. No tunnel. No white light. Just a click. Like a tape being rewound by a giant, invisible hand.

Fail… and I will kill everyone you love. The letter slipped slightly in her hands, and at the bottom, a name. Morgana. Zoe stared at it, her pulse thundered, and she looked at the book, old, very old. “What do you want…” she whispered. Who is ‘him’? Why was my memory erased? Who… am I to her? So many questions, no answers, but one thing was certain— This wasn’t over, not even close, because now—The game had truly begun.

Even after she left the States for Zurich, when she landed a prized position at the prestigious university. Noelle was the kind of person who remembered everything: your birthday, your coffee order, that offhand comment you made three years ago about wanting to learn Python. She remembered it all, but she never made a big deal out of it. She just... filed it away, like data on a hard drive, and retrieved it precisely when you needed it.

He watched as her brow farrowed as she tried to remember and after some minute, her panic increased before she whispered the words. "I can not remember, I do not know who I am." The end... Coming soon, last book of the Fated Trilogy: The prince Merchant Bride.

I tried to keep my face straight and continue reading. "15th of February, Year 1522. As for me, Janice Arcala Katelyn Gustav, as a fan of online literature and animes, I loved reading transmigration genre novels and isekai animes. I know quite a lot of useful things and specifically read up on the corresponding knowledge! "This is the stage where I can display my abilities! "But, I realized that my memory is not good! I almost forgot everything! "Heaven allowed me to move to another world, but I wasn't given an outstanding memory or a system. Nor was I given a two-way door. How can I survive like this!?

" That man on TV had my face but I don't remember being him?" I... My voice cracked. I don't know. Enrie studied me for a long moment. Then he crossed the room and began picking up the broken porcelain, his movements careful and deliberate. “The mind protects itself sometimes, " he said without looking up.”Hides things that are too painful to face all at once. Memory comes back when you're ready for it.” What if I'm never ready? Then you build a new life with what you have now. I stared at my hands, hands that knew how to wield a knife with professional precision, hands that had apparently signed contracts and destroyed careers and built empires.

“There’s a beverage section. So I ordered them.” I looked at him and then back at the cider. “You remembered? From just that one time?” He nodded, going back to the fridge. “I only have to see something once then I will never forget it.” He turned his head toward me. “Mer don’t forget things. Our memory doesn’t work like humans. If we see something once, we can identify it again, even years later.” That floored me. “That’s insane,” I said, proceeding toward the island, seriously impressed, thinking of how I would never have to study over and over again.