Memoir Audiobook Novels & Stories

He did not love her anyway. However, Harry felt an emptiness on the way back to the hospital. It was as if a large piece of his heart had been ripped out. His thoughts were a tangled mess, binding his mind and threatening to explode. He looked at the city, recalling many memories with Celine. The fragments of memory lingered in his mind like a thick fog, blurry yet incredibly clear. Hesitantly, Harry finally instructed his assistant, "Continue investigating Celine." Only after saying this did he seem to feel a little better.

The necklace was with me since then, but I didn't know where that necklace came from since my memories from the past were gone. That would be my biggest revelation, why my memories aren't present? Why couldn't I remember anything from the past? Even a single memory with my parents. I didn't know, but I'll find the answers soon. The necklace was beautiful it has some white diamonds in it. Well, though I wanted to buy that I didn't have much money, even a penny except for the money Hildred gave me. "Do you want that?" I was just shocked when I heard his voice. He's so close to me, whispering to my ears.

Hans opened the cover of the transparent container glass on the book. He carefully took the old book in his hand and intently looked at the title written in bold letters on the cover. “King Dominique’s Memoirs, so I’m guessing this is the one. This will answer those doubts of mine.”

Those ungrateful ingrates would go mad, but how was that my problem? I had once survived on an abandoned island for two months. My phone was turned off. I'd power it up and call someone if I really needed help. Thanks to my frequent survival trips, I knew the local rescue squads well. All I had to do was send a signal, and they would send a ship right away. Then, help would come in two days' time. … I toiled away for the whole day, and night was soon upon me. I sat on the little bench I made, staring at the blazing setting sun as I munched on the seafood I had caught with my traps.

He only shook his head adamantly. “I know a world-renowned therapist, Maya. I can call him and he will be here before work hours end,” he said firmly. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders gently and turned her towards him. “He can help you get your memories back. He has helped a lot of patients who had gone through the same thing as you.”

My family had to put a stop to the broadcast of my memories. I huddled in a corner, feeling numb about the whole situation, but they struggled to accept reality. Sandra teared up shakily, mumbling in disbelief. Roger gasped heavily, his fists clenched, while Caleb, wearing his heart on his sleeve, punched the table. “I can’t believe Casey is evil! “Where is she? I must ask her if this is real.” The scientist wiped away a tear. “This is the donor’s deepest and most personal memory. There’s one more piece of memory. Do you want to watch it?”

Amid cheers, Michael stepped onto the stage, his voice steady and cool. "Last year, I got into an accident and lost my sight completely. I'd like to thank someone. Because of her careful care, I was able to recover so quickly. "Thank you, Ms. Goodwin." My heart pounded as I listened, trying to keep my face calm. The spotlight landed straight on Audrey. She lifted her chin and gave a shy, blushing smile. "I'm your nurse. Taking care of you was my duty." Michael's lips curled into a smile—the kind that looked dangerous.

"The doctors say your memory might come back in pieces. Or it might not. But you’re safe now. The Vane... the project is over." He left an hour later, promising to bring my textbooks. But the moment the door clicked shut, the static in my head spiked. I reached for my phone on the nightstand—a new device, sleek and black. There were no photos. No messages. No call history. But when I opened the "Voice Memos" app, there was a single file, recorded at 2:03 AM on the night of the "accident." The title was: "FOR THE GIRL WITH THE MICROPHONE."

A memoir was different from a speech. I had given versions of the story publicly. In rooms of thirty and rooms of twelve hundred and in the livestream that had reached people I would never meet in places I would never go. I had gotten good at the delivery, good at giving the real version without being destroyed by the real version, good at walking back into my life afterward without the story following me in ways that disrupted the life. A book was different.

His nerves calmed down to see the half closed porthole on his side and a safely private door giving him enough privacy. His hand found his phone on his side and an unattended laptop, the movie had a long end.. the replay button has been on the screen for probably hours. Glad the earphone didn’t pull his laptop. He set it aside and stretched his limbs, muffling a satisfied groan when relief flooded his muscles and meridians. ‘Is it lunch.. or dinner? What if breakfast?’ he asked mentally, half disoriented. Ren glances at the closed barrier and wonders if Mizuki is sleeping.. but knowing her, she’s probably sorting out some papers for the business meeting or whatever project she has in Boston.