More Than Memories Novels & Stories

Soon, the sound of the television drifted from the media room, mingled with Calista's playful giggling. "Seb, I want some strawberries. "This lead actor is so handsome! But he's not as handsome as you! "Oh, stop tickling me." Standing downstairs, Theodore felt as though an invisible hand gripped his chest tightly. He suddenly recalled years ago when she used to coax him to watch movies with her in that same flirtatious manner. But back then, he had simply replied, "Stop it. I'm busy." Now, all her affection and closeness belonged to someone else. A feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced surged through him—a bitter, stinging ache, as if a thousand needles pierced his heart. He didn't

Living me confused. Until we finally leave the hospital, the man never leaves my mind. There's something about him that keeps bothering me. It's just that I don't know what that thing is. And the more I think of that thing makes me feel that I shouldn't have left that place.

And a memory I couldn’t shake. Or maybe... Something more than a memory was already in motion.

“Tracking something.” His gaze sharpened. “The variable?” I didn’t answer. Orders weren’t meant to be repeated. He smirked faintly. “You’ll know it when you find it. That’s how they like to play it.” Varek stepped closer, lowering his voice. “They’ve been making more of us. Faster. The last batch didn’t last a week before the memories started.” My fingers twitched. “What memories?” He tilted his head, studying me. “You’ll see. If you live long enough.”

He just sat there, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze steady and unyielding. “There’s no other way to explain it, Rhea." He said quietly, like my yelling had already been factored into his plan, “You can deny it, you can scream about it, but that won’t change the truth. Those memories aren’t dreams, and they’re not some figment of a stressed mind. They’re pieces of the life you lost and they are slipping back in, whether you want them or not.” I clenched my fists in my lap, “So you’re telling me my memories aren’t just a figment of my imagination or some experiment gone haywire. They’re reruns of what I had faced before? Then why are they so different with the happenings of this life?"

"Mem'ries shall f'rev'r beest in thy mind but t is up to thee and only thee if 't be true thee wouldst still wanteth to keepeth those folk. 'r alloweth those folk vanisheth" What? What does she mean by that? [Memories will forever be in your mind but it is up to you and only you if you would still want to keep them... or let them vanish.] I want to ask what lies beyond those words... but before I even have the chance to ask. "To rememb'r, the hath lost mem'ries, one might not but prepareth thy self to experience teen. For nay marchpanes, art hath called if 't be true there is nay sour "

My mind reeled, struggling to process the implications of these long-forgotten memories. The memories came flooding back, each one a vivid snapshot of a moment in time. I remembered lazy afternoons spent watching the sunset together, sharing laughter and stories over dinner, and playful moments of splashing in the crystal-clear waters of my lagoon. The recollections were so real, so tangible, that I felt like I was reliving them all over again. I clutched at my chest, as if trying to physically contain the onslaught of memories, each one tumbling forth like a wave crashing on the shore. Countless moments, countless memories of Haven and me, of a life I thought I'd long forgotten.

"Oh that's so thoughtful and good of you. Let's hope that she'll be able to find me in her memories." Because if she forget us, there's no way we will ever be free?? She's the key to us, and can only unlock us if she knew the truth. I just hope the "MEMORIES spell which I had created will work in her memory.

Maybe he could not wait any longer for her memories to come back. According to her Doctor, her injury was not that severe. She would regain her memories sooner or later. There may be a part of her past that her brain denies remembering. Perhaps something painful or traumatic that she wants to forget subconsciously. Thera would not be surprised if that traumatic part was being a part of Sean’s life. “I don’t know what I’ve seen in you to marry you back then, Mister. You’re so unkind and inconsiderate. Your mouth speaks whatever you want without minding others’ feelings.”

A girl in her late 20’s, was walking in a hotel corridor, completely drunk. Her 5ft 6-inch figure was dangling with a lost mind over her each step. Her vision was too hazel to recognize the path in front of her, just like her life. Anger, frustration, and feeling of betrayal once again were swelling her heart.