Memoir Fiction Novels & Stories

Chapter V: Memories It was a little blurry and muddled but Ren was sure it was a tiny memory of long back then. It was from one of his adventures as a rebellious child, he’s small though. He likes to escape and sneaks out of the house whenever the babysitter has fallen asleep, but Ren is a good little kid you see, he always makes sure to be back before they notice he’s missing. It was near winter, the remnants of autumn season was slowly fading and the wind began to get more chilly in the morning and every night. Although not cold enough to puff a smoke when talking.

she says. She says it quietly, almost thoughtfully, as if she's still turning it over in her mind. The line was the first thing I wrote when I started the memoir—the sentence that arrived fully formed, that told me what this document was going to be about. Not the operation. Not the investigation. The architecture of self-deception. The way we tell ourselves stories that become true enough to act on. "Then it becomes something else," she says. "The second paragraph. It becomes something about your mother." She pauses. "It becomes—" She stops. She looks at her hands. "It's very honest."

I creased my brows as if it took me some effort to recall. "Oh…" I suddenly gasped in realization, deliberately letting myself trail off before flashing an innocent smile. "So that was you—I'm so sorry, but like you said, it happened twenty years ago. It was so long ago that I've forgotten it. See, as I've accomplished so much important research work day after day, who has time to remember such… trivialities?"

I remembered that I also needed to speak to dad and stop him from talking about me with Nick. I prefer being a private person and I have closed off a lot of things with good reason. I can’t relate to people because of the void I have. I always feel out of place when people share their past. I can only talk about the life I had after the accident and it’s not pleasant because it took time for me to adjust. I have tried thinking harder like what people assume and it ends up giving me a migraine. I want to remember but the pieces never fall in place. At this point, I will need a miracle to remember. *****

After a short rest, they sat down again and put their helmets back on. Mr. Wilson gently wiped away my tears and began another round of hypnosis. “Miss Lily,” he said in a calm voice, “you and Miss Emily are sisters. Tell me, what is the one thing you remember most clearly about her?” The thing I remembered most clearly? My memories began to blur, and the dream twisted into chaos. I couldn’t steady it right away because there were too many moments burned into my mind, each one sharp and impossible to forget. They surfaced in fragments, scattered and broken.