Memoir Buckman Novels & Stories

Homeless, I fled into the mountains with Buddy. He was a yellow mutt. After my parents died, he was all I had. The town found us anyway. They held me down and killed Buddy in front of me. Then they skinned him, cooked him, and laughed while the pot boiled. I clutched one of his bones and screamed until my voice disappeared. That year, I was sixteen. On the platform, Claire watched my tear-streaked teenage face on the screen and sneered.

I left the restaurant feeling dazed, my mind consumed by Cole Buckman’s words. “I want you to be with me. To live with me.” Did Cole Buckman really offer a marriage proposal to me or had I been hallucinating? As soon as I got home, I grabbed my laptop and searched for information on the Buckman family. My fingers trembled slightly as I typed. I had grown up hearing about their wealth and influence, but I had never paid much attention to their inner workings.

Hoping that the peace he felt right now would last forever. He could not remember exactly how long he had been here. All he remembered was when he was pulled over by a man named Leonard, who asked him to meet the man's father. His memory had almost disappeared, so all he could remember was vague. Even he himself began to forget all the memories of his life. His true identity, his memory, slowly began to fade. If he could compare his situation to a book, maybe he could be said to be like a book with the ink inside the book starting to fade before turning the book back into blank sheets of white paper.

Am I cracking up? “Cameron,” I say hesitantly. He flinches when I call him sombrely. “What if I told you there’s like… gaps, in what I can remember?” He frowns. “What kinda gaps?” I don't know how to explain it, but I try anyway. “Big chunks of memory just gone. You know, like someone’s ripped out pages of a book. The important ones.” I keep staring out the window, feeling the wind brush my cheek. Even my granny bun, as Evelyn mocked it, felt tighter today. Looking ever more hideous.

To be alone was bad enough. ‘We can survive,’ Lumi assures me. ‘Trust in the Deer-man. He would not suggest it if he was not knowing of things, even if he cannot be direct to tell us.’ Lumi was right. Bucky seemed to know far more than he ever let on. He said he was neutral, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was guiding me more than he would dare admit to anyone else.

Chapter II: Intriguing Cold August; Boston in Norwood, Massachusetts Van kicked the pebble off. He didn't intend to scare the stray cat, but he was just too pissed and annoyed. What are those kids blabbing about anyway? Just because he is a boy, it would be inappropriate for him to learn ballet. Those were bullies who had narrow and fragile ideas of masculinity.

"If I’m still alive, then it can’t be that bad!” Aunt laughed and said, "Summer, you're going to live a very long life!" The surgery had gone really well. The doctor said I might lose some memories, but I still recognized everyone I had seen so far. Even though I sometimes felt like I had forgotten some things, I did not really want to remember them anyway. In fact, I thought forgetting might make me even happier. Once I was out of danger, I moved to a regular room. With Aunt looking after me, I started feeling better really fast.

In the only voice that could tell it. Mine. I picked up my phone. Called Marcus. He answered on the second ring. "What's wrong?" "Nothing. I want to tell you something." "Okay." "A publisher wrote to me. They want a memoir." Silence for a moment. Then: "Are you going to do it?" I looked at the letter on the counter. At the kitchen where I'd burned Flynn's letter. At the window where the city moved in November light. "Yes," I said. "I think I am.”