Novel & Cerita Mission Memories

A very memorable night. ***

Paglabas ko hindi ko alam na sumunod pala si Ellen sa akin, at ikinabit ang mga kamay sa braso ko. "I don't wike it." She said while grinning from ear to ear with her teasing eyes. Oh god, not again. "He looks familiar by the way," "That's the boy in the picture," I pointed out for her to remember. It's funny how she memorize all the 'chismis' but she forgot those things. "Oh, he's one of them. The drummer." she added, "I think someone just obliviate me," she tsked. I laughed hard. I cannot!

Her brows furrowed together in surprise. There are good memories that we wanted to preserve and cherished. Those memories are the happy times and significant events in our life where we feel loved and important. There are also bad memories that we wished we never had and no matter how hard we try we just couldn't forget, but sometimes painful memories reminded us of our past mistakes and teach us a valuable lessons. It took me a while before I responded to Emann. I feel a little hesitant to tell my story, but I know that it was necessary, so I take a deep breath and release an audible sigh before I begin...

“It’s called Meditation Memory Recall.” “Will that help me remember?” “It might. Basically, you’ll have to meditate and try to remember anything from your parents … their faces, voices, anything. Then you focus on an unforgettable scene with them. Let it play in your mind … it will slowly expand. You see, the memories in our heads are always linked to each other. If you unlock a memory, then you can slowly unlock the others, one at a time.”

Alive? As I sit up in bed, memories flood my mind like a tidal wave. I remembered the night I died, the feeling of the blade piercing my skin, the sound of Diane's voice whispering in my ear. I remembered the pain, the fear, the sense of betrayal. But I also remembered the moments leading up to that night, the laughter, the tears, the fights. I remembered the way Robert smiled at Diane, the way Diane looked at me with a mixture of envy and hatred. I remembered the way I felt, like I was walking on eggshells, never knowing when the other shoe would drop.

Hannah's POV I was talking to Fernando and explaining what had happened when Dr. Molina showed up all flustered, telling us that Domani and Frederick were hospitalized. They say there was something called muscle memory, when muscles memorize movements and make repetitions easier, but I thought my body had muscle memory, skeletal memory, basically every fiber of my body had a memory I thought would never be lost - the memory of pain from everything Frederick had done to me, because just mentioning his name made me feel pain and tremble with fear.

Each milestone was a balm, soothing the ache of years lost and opportunities missed. Yet, even in the midst of this contentment, Andy remained haunted by fragments of memory—fleeting flashes of Mayla’s laughter, the brush of her hand against his, the warmth of a shared moment that could not be recaptured. He kept these memories close, private, allowing them to linger like fragile ghosts at the edges of his mind.

"But I’ve never dreamed about him since the memory loss. And this time… I saw the first time I met him." My hands trembled slightly. "I shouldn’t remember that. I shouldn’t be able to. I lost my memory, didn’t I?" Miles took my hand, his voice calm and steady. "Eve, don’t be scared. Memory flashbacks are completely normal." I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I threw my arms around him and sobbed. "I don’t want to remember any of it. Not a single moment. Let me stay like this forever—just let me forget everything."

Whispers of the past echoed in the air, memories that felt tangible yet impossibly distant, teasing at the edges of consciousness without clarity. Amelia moved forward, determination burning in her blue eyes as she scanned the faces of those she had come to cherish. “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked, a glimmer of hope sparking within her as she encouraged them to grasp onto the threads of their past. But the response was far from uniform—each answer morphed and twisted, confounding her further. Some spoke of laughter shared over rum during calmer nights; others muttered vague recollections of sailing through a storm, while a few trembled, grasping at the horror of recent battle

The air was thick with anticipation, as if the walls themselves held countless untold stories. I approached the reception desk, where a young woman with piercing blue eyes and an enigmatic smile greeted me. Her name tag read "Lena." "Welcome to Memoria," she said, her voice soft yet confident. "How may I assist you today?" "I... I've heard that you can erase memories," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is it true?" Lena nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, it's true. Memoria specializes in memory alteration. We help individuals who seek to escape the pain of their past, to start anew."