Novel & Cerita Mission Memories

“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

66 He said, "The only real reason you can't is because you were in the wrong place to begin with. This is where you belong. Where you once lived. Time is not only the answer to getting your answers, sometimes you just need to go back to the past... go back to where you truly belong." I sighed, acknowledging the truth in his words. "You're right. If I want to remember, then this place is the perfect setting to harness my memories." The decision to confront the past, to explore this familiar yet mysterious place, lingered in the air like a quiet resolution.

After hours of running film with Matt I glance at the clock to see that it’s already close to 10 p.m. “Shit!” I rub my eyes and stand to gather my things. “Everything good man?”Mac asks without lifting his head from the screen in front of him. “Yeah man I just lost track of time. I’m supposed to be at Addysons house right now.” I see his head jerk up and a crease hit his brow. “Addyson? Who is Addyson? Island girl?” He asks curiously.

As she sat at the kitchen table, fragments of memories floated through her mind, like pieces of a puzzle waiting to be put together. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the laughter, the music, and the conversations that had filled the air at the party. The faces of friends and acquaintances flickered in her mind, each one a thread in the tapestry of the night's events. As she focused on each memory, the pieces began to slowly come together, forming a mosaic of shared moments and experiences. The joy of laughter, the warmth of connection, and the energy of the celebration intertwined in her mind, creating a vivid picture of the night's festivities.

" 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.

Antoine watched Camille, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. Camille’s emotions surged, and tears began to roll down her cheeks, salty and bittersweet. How long had it been since she last remembered the scent of her mother’s lily of the valley? How long had it been since she felt the vibrant essence of fragrance, the subtle bond between scent and memory? 'Muse' didn’t just analyze the scent—it awakened a corner of her mind she thought lost forever. It allowed her to 'see' images again, to 'hear' sounds, and to feel the delicate stirrings of emotions she believed had disappeared for good.

Memories began to flood his thoughts, like a reel of moments frozen in time. One particular memory stood out—a snapshot of him and Andrea, their faces adorned with smiles, indulging in ice cream. He couldn't resist the urge to relive that moment. With a few taps on his phone, he brought up the cherished selfie. The image of the young girl with her radiant smile and striking resemblance to Maiari filled his screen.

LIVIA (CHIARA) I was taught how to remember before I was taught what was worth remembering. They never explained it that way, of course. They used gentler words. Words that sounded like care. Support. Training. Recovery. They told me memory was a muscle, and like any muscle, it needed to be exercised. They told me forgetting was a symptom, not a choice. They told me remembering was a responsibility. I believed them because believing was easier than noticing what belief was costing me. At first, they asked me questions with answers.

I remember those interactions of us like old Indian television drama where both the protagonist hates each other at the beginning of the scene, but till the end of the drama, they gradually generate feeling for each other. Sometimes I feel or could conclude that the memories I lost are about my love for Mr. Hemsworth and our family and sometimes about some tragic event that happened to me in the past related to Mr. Hemsworth, but indeed it's not a TV drama, my life thou. To me, I'm lost, I want to meet Louis and want to know about my lost memories, but there is nothing I can do about it. when I was working under Mr. Hemsworth, he used to despise me for being clumsy and late for work, so how

**** ~ Flashback ~ Before heading to the library, Evelina and Rissa are on their way to the opposite end of the class to the library. Evelina walks and she stops from her path, she just remembers that there was something she forgot. Seeing Evelina's reaction stop, Rissa asks her. "Eve, what's wrong? Is there anything you left in the classroom?" "No, I forgot something. That actually, I wanted to return the book in the library," she replied.