Memories Of The 90's Novels & Stories

“We’ve already done three sessions. One more won’t make a difference.” “But—” “That’s an order.” “Yes, sir.” My parents and Steve put their helmets back on. Each of them wore a different expression as the machine began pulling at my memories again. In my sleep, I heard voices. They were laughing at me. “Bunny Girl, Bunny Girl, dragging her hair through the dirt. Bunny Girl, Bunny Girl, soft skin made for the night to hurt...”

Nox misses moments like this when they're alone. CONTINUED...

The lights, the laughs. The anticipation burned hard in my veins back then. I sat on the high platform, a lit cigarette in between my lips, classic chic glasses— we were in the 90s. The soft smell of lady's cologne flickered by. Of course I was with a lot of women, I loved having them plenty, the warmth of their fleshs hovering close and their fake giggles a melody to my ears. That night my whole world changed. But, we won't be going down memory land yet.

"You look... different today. Did something happen in your sleep?" "I remember," I said, stepping back from the table. "I remember the Mothership. I remember the 'Factory-Reset'. I know what you did, Vivian." Vivian’s smile didn't waver, but the air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "The Mothership? Factory-Reset? Darling, you’ve been reading too many of those sci-fi novels your father keeps in the basement. This is January 1, 1998. The world is just beginning."

It feels like a memory that now belongs to someone else—implanted in my mind and giving the illusion that it’s real. Like every other memory from my early childhood, it feels like it’s fading with time. Maybe if I hold onto it for long enough, it will burn itself into a part of my brain that cannot be erased. Strange, I could never remember anything before the age of ten. My mother used to say it’s because I had a nasty fall, resulting in a brain concussion. Imagine losing a part of your memory, woosh, gone without any trace. I used to get a pang of envy when friends shared stories of birthdays. I’d keep interesting pieces of information and store them for when it was my turn. Sometimes, I’d

There was no place for me here anymore. I casually packed my clothes into an old suitcase and looked at the diary filled with 99 entries of hurt and disappointment. I didn't take it with me and left it in the corner of the room. When I was little, I wrote an entry every time I felt ignored. I had believed that if I were obedient enough, my parents and brother would one day notice me and love me a little more. But I was wrong. No matter how good I was, no matter how much I tried, I could never compete with Yvette's slightest frown.

I was trapped in that box for over a century I know that because the signs on big changing screens on the road reads 2025, the last time I remember being alive is 1923. Being in this time makes me miss the nineties, people were more… entertaining, politics and tyranny was at its pick, humans were more ruthless and unpredictable now it looks really… bland, everyone’s just staring at the rectangle shaped screen thing in their hand, it seems to amuse them in some way, the kids now are less proper, I saw a kid yelling at his parents, for shame! The nineties was more organized and people were definitely more fashionable, looking at everyone’s clothes now just makes me want to barf, whatever happe

As I picked up the diary on my desk, countless memories came flooding back. When I was eight years old, we weren't doing very well. The five of us were squeezed into an old, rundown house. My parents struggled to balance their busy jobs with raising three children. Eventually, they decided to send one of us to live with our grandparents in the countryside. However, Adrian was about to start high school, which was a critical time for his studies, while Nina was still too young and in poor health. They were too worried to send her away. Not wanting my parents to worry, I volunteered bravely. And so, I was sent to the countryside. Before I left, Mom stroked my head, praising me for being the mo

Mom cried “Mom! I’m not sick. Why do we need a doctor?” She cried again “Calm down.” I went near her “It’s me.” I hugged her and I cried “I miss you so much.” “No, you’re lying. My brother doesn’t love me.” “I love you.” I said “He loves you so much. You’re his princess remember?” “No. I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t leave me if I am his princess.” She sobbed A doctor came to check her. “What happened to her right now is a trauma. Because she tried to drown herself, memories may come back to her whenever she is sad.” The doctor said