Memory Of Us Novels & Stories

“I wonder if your mother would’ve changed her mind and named you something else if she would’ve known your name didn’t quite match your personality.” “It’s not my personality,” Memory corrected. “I just get... distracted. I can remember important things. Like people’s birthdays. And favorite colors. And recipes for snickerdoodle cookies—even if I don’t remember to take them out before they burn.” “Now that I’m glad you can remember,” Bryce agreed. “Well, I should get to work.” “What’s that?” Memory asked, noticing a flyer in his hand. The red and green trim looked similar to the one she’d seen blowing down the street earlier.

Micheal asked out of curiosity. "It's Jasper's brother. Micheal, is there any surgery in America that could remove part of a person's memory?" Stella asked seriously. "As far as I know, research has been conducted but none succeeded. The structure of the brain is very complicated. We could repair cells and nerves. We could also make a person lose their memory completely, but we couldn't remove a specific memory. However, a master hypnotherapist could erase selected memories through a person's subconscious. You should understand this better than me," Micheal responded in confusion.

And now he wakes up after a week, a whole week, and he doesn’t remember me. "Hey, June. Are you okay?" Ted’s voice pulls me back as he rolls softly into the hallway. I pace, eyes darting to the white ceiling, hands trembling. "I’m not okay, Ted. I… I don’t understand. How can this be real? How can he forget just me?" Ted rolls closer, matching my frantic pace as best as he can in his wheelchair. "June… listen. We don’t know that yet. The thing is called selective memory loss. I didn’t—"

Toast to the ones here today Toast to the ones that we lost on the way 'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories And the memories bring back, memories bring back you The light turned green. The silver gray Mercedes S600 cruised down the freeway, travelling south. There's a time that I remember When I did not know no pain When I believed in forever And everything would stay the same Ethan was sitting in the front passenger seat with so much soft leather around him that he could barely hear the 389 horsepower,6-liter engine...

" My mouth slowly curved into a faint smile. A single tear of blood slipped from the corner of my eye. In Claire's terrified cry, I lost consciousness. My mind drifted through pain and static. Then a white light opened somewhere deep inside my memory. It was ten years ago, a quiet afternoon in the woods behind the school.

"Margaux..." "I like your presence this close to me. I don't know! It's like the whole thing is already in my system, but there's a way for someone to pull me down. You know what I mean? You're the type I want to remember, but there seems to be an obstacle?" "Don't force yourself to remember; instead, let your brain find its own way." "But I want to remember. I'm sure I didn't wake up in Philadelphia; it was here. My memories are here, but daddy insisted that I had a space in that country, and he even forbade me from coming here."

“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

My fingers caressed the colored notes in my hands and the familiar feeling of longing overwhelmed me. FLASHBACK NARRATIVE ~16 years ago~ *Aidan's Elementary School* A little boy ran into the class of about fifteen kids. "Y'all!" He called the attention of his mates. "I heard 'boo hoo' couldn't get his fees paid. Boo-hoo!" He went to stand in front of a petite boy of around the same age as himself, blocking the little boy's view and taking his books from him.

Maya hadn’t slept. The anonymous message looped through her mind all night like a broken alarm. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that hallway at Lincoln South—the fists, the faces, the fallout. That version of her still haunted the shadows, begging to be unseen. Now, wrapped in a thick cardigan, barefoot on her aunt’s back porch with a steaming mug of ginger tea, she sat listening to the morning. It was too quiet. Her phone buzzed again.

"Happy to see me? I'm your coworker now!" "It's so good to have you here." I smiled and pulled her in for a hug, feeling glad to have a friend by my side at work. "By the way, how much do you remember about the past?" she curiously asked after we let go. I frowned and tried to recall, but a lot of memories were missing. Seeing my troubled expression, she gently explained, "You took a memory loss pill and forgot many things. If you can't remember, don't force it."