Memory Chest Novels & Stories

Just blank space where memories should be. The doctor said not to force it. “The trauma was severe, Mr. Knox. Your brain needs time to heal. Pushing too hard could make it worse.” So I don’t push. I just work. Hours pass. I review contracts, approve budgets, read through acquisition proposals. My hand knows how to sign my name. My eyes know how to spot problems in financial reports. It’s like my body remembers even when my mind doesn’t. Margaret brings lunch around one. A sandwich I don’t remember ordering.

"I would never. In my eyes you are the most guarded person I have ever met. You are perfect, smart and the sexiest woman I want to get to know more of. In fact, one of these days even if it takes me waiting forever, I want you to open up to me. I want you to be free around me, Alex I am going no where for as long as you will have me. Mhmm. If you do not want to talk I have an idea that is bound to be fun (he wiggled his brows before giving her a playful wink) ... Since you do not want to talk. You here. I am here. In order to pass time we can-" He leads forward. Jumping out of his embrace laughing she fell on the floor. She did not fall hard enough it hurt, even if it did she was distracted

"Sometimes, the mind can bury memories deep within, especially if they're too painful to face consciously. It might not be a single event but a build up of stress, fear, or grief. Your mind might be trying to shield you from something you're not ready to confront. It comes even when facing a thought or idea might be too much for you. Or it could be black magic. If someone planted some blue bleorda at your bedside, or around where you lay your head at night, you could keep losing your memory. Brad took a sip of his tea, his brow furrowed in thought. "But how do I get my memories back? I don't want to live like this, feeling like a stranger in my own life. Besides, I don't think there's a plan

“Okay. Mabes, let’s sit in the café downstairs.” Mable hesitated but went to the café downstairs with Tracey. Tracey called the waiter and ordered two cups of coffee. Once the coffee was served, she pushed the mocha in front of Mable and smiled. “I remember you like mocha. Your tastes haven’t changed, right?” Mable nodded, stunned. She indeed liked mocha. Tracey looked at her emotionally. “Mabes, how did you lose your memory?” “The doctor said it was due to shock.”

The weight of guikt and remorse settled upon my shoulders, threatening to consume me. As I grappled with these distressing memories, it was important to remember that our minds could sometimes play tricks on us. The human brain is complex and recollections can become jumbled or distorted over time. A familiar memory came even the times I sat down to write stories about the lives of people because I was more than broken...

The last comment trailed off with giggles. Listening to the ghosts' chaotic inner thoughts, my brain slowly began to melt like a pot of mush. Just then, the shy female ghost who had approached me first pieced together the notice fragments and proudly presented them to me. "You're a huge help. What's your name?" I offhandedly asked as I gratefully took the notice. She shook her head and looked blank with confusion. "Don't you remember your name?" I asked. She shook her head and drifted away, looking melancholy.

"Tell me honestly. How bad was Riverton?" The question hit something in me instantly. Images flashed through my mind before I could stop them. Cold interrogation rooms. Blood under fluorescent lights. The echo of screaming thoughts that weren’t mine. One memory surfaced harder than the rest. A suspect sitting across from me in tears while his mind replayed the murder over and over again. I swallowed hard and forced the images back down. "Bad enough." Mercer took one look at my face and didn’t ask for details. I was grateful for that because I really didn’t want to talk about it.

Just as I was about to turn and leave, Elisa suddenly shouted, "Leno, you're finally awake!" He lay in Elisa's arms, confused as he looked at the people around him. He struggled to sit up and asked, "Who are you?" When he turned his head and saw me, his gaze lit up instantly. "Flora Hall!" Leno was then taken back to the hospital for further examination. "The excessive dosage of wolfsbane has damaged Alpha Leno's brain and nerves, causing temporary amnesia. His memory has regressed to 15 years ago," a healer said.

My chest tightened for reasons I didn’t fully understand. As I reached for my car keys, something tugged at the back of my mind. A subtle pull. It persistent and uneasy. Like I was forgetting something important. It was stuck at the back of my mind, refusing to leave like a stubborn mole. I paused, fingers tightening around the keys, trying to grasp the thought before it slipped away completely. But whatever it was, it stayed just out of reach—leaving behind only a chilling sense that I was already too late.

He moved to the machine, pressed three buttons, and then handed three metal helmets to my parents and Steve. “Mr. Zeller,” he explained carefully, “once the three of you sit down and put these helmets on, you’ll be able to view the subject’s memories through the built-in visual interface. Based on her brain activity, she’ll only be able to recall three memories. Anything beyond that is extremely dangerous and could cause brain damage, seizures, bleeding, or permanent memory loss.” “Three times is enough. The first one should be about Emily’s disappearance. She definitely knows something,” Steve said impatiently as he grabbed a helmet and sat down beside me.