Memories Story Novels & Stories

Love. A hand holding hers. A child’s laughter. A man’s voice saying: “I choose you.” Sophia smiled. She whispered: “I’m Sophia.” The darkness shook. The Author’s voice became angry. “How?” Sophia answered: “Because I remember how I feel.” Memory Is Not the Same as a Story Sophia discovered something. The Author could erase memories. But he couldn’t erase meaning. He could rewrite events. He could change names. He could destroy worlds. But he couldn’t completely erase the emotional connections created by those experiences.

My gaze landed on her while she was doing her business . " Honestly ... I feel so incomplete without them .. many times I try to stress my brain but in return I get nothing .. it's like my brain isn't willing to help me " I said meekly. I do wanted to remember everything . Memories Is what make you a human . I want to know about everything . How we met? . How we got married? . Our dating life ? . Our relationship ? . I think after gaining my memories I would be able to know him better than now .

She was doing everything possible to keep talking. The way she told her stories made me feel like I was with her throughout the time it was happening. I was surprised at how she was still able to retain every detail vividly, like the colour of the cloth the individual in her narrative wore. It would take only someone with high retentive memory to even remember what she did when she was eight years. She was just like my friend, Abigail. Not in the retention aspect but in the talking. (Rest in peace, Abigail).

Ron didn’t sound so sure and that scared me. “What do we do if my memories don’t come back? I remember you so why can’t I remember her?” The frustration level was building in my chest but I tamped it down. “Technically, the matters of the mind are always hard to speak on. The memories may come back and the memories may not, you aren’t ready to start searching for other memories you may be missing, and you’ll be surprised to be flooded with them after you heal.” We looked at the door when someone knocked, and I smiled at my second-in-command, Big Mac. He was a big man with a forest as a beard and the greenest eyes I had ever seen.

Someone else’s. A pup would remember an elder’s story. An elder would remember a pup’s first choice. A warrior would remember a healer’s rest. A mother would remember a stranger’s bleeding. They called it *The Day of Giving Memory*. Mara became a teacher. She walked from village to village. She told wolves: “I forgot so you would remember that remembering is a choice. Every single day. Not just once.” She lived to 200. Her moon had seven gray spots by the end.

I became pregnant again and again, only to miscarry every time. In less than a year, I lost my ability to bear children. Half my body was paralyzed. My husband, Chris Macken, spent a fortune hiring a foreign research team capable of extracting memories from the human brain. I became an experiment. "Jenny, the day you let my sister die with injustice hanging over her head, you should've known this day would come! "She treated you like family. And you repaid her by working with her killer to destroy her. This is your retribution!"

So, I shoved my ex-boyfriend and said coldly, "You're right, Shawn. We're over. If we get out of here alive, fire me." I looked at the sky and ran off. Queenie tried to come after me, but Shawn stopped her. "Let her. She'll come back when the rain comes." My future ex-colleagues nodded. "Yep. It's an abandoned island. She's just a charlatan with no skills. She'll have to come back for food." "Speaking of which, let's find some."

I walked in and was greeted with images and flashes that were overwhelming me, making me shake my head in panic before the place began shaking. ‘Please stop fighting me. I’m not trying to hurt you. I want to get back in. All you have to do is stop resisting. Open your eyes and focus.’ my younger version spoke. The voice echoed in my head over the painful sound. I remembered why this had been familiar and why I could never remember. After the accident, I had been fighting my younger self and winning because I refused to remember. That's why I always wake up drenched in my own sweat as if I was drowning. Every time she tried to speak all I heard was the noise that blocked me from allowing the

Something we had done a million times before but that one time lead to so many bad consequences and memories. I had sex with Melisa many times before in our relationship. She was very good at it and I always enjoyed it. We had sex that night and she spent the night in my room. I could not sleep comfortably that night since all I thought about was how I had told my friends that I was going to ask Kira out before we went to college. I had not even thought about the fact that she might have been going away to a different college. I looked at the sleeping girl besides me, with her curves showing under the covers and her soft snores the only sound in the room. I felt sorry for her since I was goi

“I’m so sorry for your loss. I understand what you feel completely.” “Thank you.” “Does it ever get any better?” He asked. “People say that time heals all wounds. Is it true?” “The wounds never really heal. And in the small chance that they do, there will always be a scar. Losing someone is like losing a part of yourself that you can never take back.” What the fuck am I saying? I was supposed to make him feel better, not make him feel worse. But I can’t lie to him. Even after ten years, I miss my parents dearly. Her death did not make things easier for me as well. It’s like the pain just keeps on adding up until I explode. “Sometimes you think that you’ve moved on, only to realize that you h