Memento Note Novels & Stories

“Why not?” “I … I can’t remember anything.” Her eyes fell to the ground. It’s not that she couldn’t remember, it’s just … she didn’t want to remember anything about it. Her dark past had been haunting her, chasing her wherever she went. She was scared. Her fear would consume her and bring back all the trauma. Her entire life she had avoided recalling every bit of memory from her parents. And she’s fine with little or nothing to remember at all. “Wait.” Estevan opened his backpack and, later on, pulled out a notepad. “I’ve read a book before—back in my country and took some notes out of it. Here,” he said, pointing at a page. “It’s called Meditation Memory Recall.”

One of the books on Jeniece’s shelf tumbled to the ground. "Let me get that," Dominic said, hurrying to pick it up. But as he bent down, his eyes locked onto the open page. "Wait..." he murmured, his hand hovering above the book. There, sketched in faded ink, was a large circle with four smaller circles surrounding it, each marked with a strange rune. "What is this?" Dominic asked, his voice low as he carefully lifted the book, showing us the page. Something was written above the symbol in delicate yet decaying ink. Dominic squinted as he read it aloud: "Memento Oblitus."

Now I'm in a place where I will be reminded of who I was every single day. ~~~ don't forget to add to your library! ✿

It’ѕ a hugе аѕk wіthоut mу notes. I саn store and rесаll a lоt of іnfоrmаtіоn by mеmоrу, but I nееd my nоtеѕ to be сlеаr оn dаtеѕ, tіmеѕ аnd thе рrесіѕе ѕеԛuеnсе оf еvеntѕ. Their trap, оf course, іѕ thаt аnу dеtаіl I’m not one hundrеd percent ѕurе of will gіvе thеm rеаѕоn tо grill me furthеr.

The destination account was referenced by a code rather than a name, which was unusual enough that Edmund had drawn a line under it in ink. I looked at the code. Below it, in the same ink, Edmund had written two letters. M.H. No full name. No context. No explanation of what the letters referred to or why they'd been significant enough to note. Just the letters, underlined once, the pen pressed slightly harder than the rest of the annotation, as if it was something he wanted to remember. I looked at the date on the memo. Fourteen months before the company collapsed. I looked at the routing code. Then at the shareholder register from the same period. Then at the account summaries.

The air was thick with anticipation, as if the walls themselves held countless untold stories. I approached the reception desk, where a young woman with piercing blue eyes and an enigmatic smile greeted me. Her name tag read "Lena." "Welcome to Memoria," she said, her voice soft yet confident. "How may I assist you today?" "I... I've heard that you can erase memories," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is it true?" Lena nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, it's true. Memoria specializes in memory alteration. We help individuals who seek to escape the pain of their past, to start anew."

Now all I need is to remember the memories which were erase, and what part of it can solve the question about the note I saw inside the wedding gift. ‘Did I really kill my mom?’ My eyes diverted back to the papers on my hand. I didn’t notice at first but it seems there’s still one more note behind. So I flipped the other page and saw my mom’s handwriting. I read it again. [Unfortunately, I discovered that the Celine X medicine I made isn’t still perfect. It can erase someone’s memory but it might probably come back. People who intake the medicine will still remember some part of their erased memories if they have any contact with the main ingredients of the drug - The Kentoki flower. And to

And on August’s pillow, a note waited. Folded. Ink slightly smudged. Three words, written in uneven script: I missed you. The note stayed in his pocket all day. August didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. But he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away either. Not when every word was scrawled in a handwriting he didn’t remember and yet recognized in the pit of his stomach.

Mnemosyne-9 A highly illegal experimental drug used in our world to suppress recent memories. It didn't erase a person's entire past. Only fragments of recent events, leaving behind nothing but blurred pieces that were almost impossible to recover. I tossed the bottle to Primo, who caught it with perfect agility. Our eyes met. “You know what to do,” I said. He looked down at the bottle and nodded once. “Yes, boss.” Without another word, he left my office. The last thing I needed was when he woke up; surely he was going to remember it, because Primo would tell him everything.

Calistè frowned. “He had a brain disease that made him forget some important details,” Rhea continued. “So he had to jot some things down and keep them in his pocket. Anytime he felt like he was forgetting something, he checked his pocket for his notes and remembered what he needed.” “Meaning that an information as important as the location of Steve’s dead body would be resting safely on a piece of paper in his pocket,” Calistè smiled.