Never Forget What They Took From Us Novels & Stories

There is no coulda woulda shoulda with us, no regrets. So you invading our lives just made us make more memories. We tried things we had wanted to try. We upped the anti and lived harder than ever! Yes, you stayed on the periphery of our vision; that tends to be your way. You like to keep all of those touched by you, fearful of your return. It is your calling card, isn't it, your modus operandi. You like us never to forget your visit. But every single day, we got up and lived.

Because he remembered. Because hope had finally returned. And this time, we weren’t going to let anyone steal it from us.

“Those barbarians killed our people, they wrecked everyone apart, our cousins, our grandparents, some of our aunties and uncles are in their graves because of their stupid pack. That useless thing that took you away from us. Why do you want to remember the people that killed us and separated us for years? They took you as hostage and maltreated you whenever they like and you want to remember them.’ “I’m not saying I want to recall my life with them. What I’m trying to say is, what is my name? The couple I bumped into today knows me. They acted as if they’d seen me before, and the disappointed looks on their faces made me feel empty inside. I feel like something precious is being taken away f

What did that world ever do for us except leave us to suffer and hurt while others lived happily? Flinching, I watch as she begins to show me memories, reminding me of everything we endured from the time we were taken from our mother until the moment Diego bought us from the auctions. One after another, they appear, all the reminders of the hurt and sorrow that I suffered. It is suffocating, and it leaves me feeling like I’m drowning, but I can’t give in. Not when my world was finally beginning to have some light. ‘No,’ I hiss, clawing at the last bit of control that I have. ‘That is our past, but it isn’t our future.’

People who once stood exactly where I was standing now before eventually being made to forget Dante completely like none of it had ever happened. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. And I just sat there, lost in everything as I sat staring at the darkness in front of me trying to process what he had just said. People had actually lived inside this house. Known him. Probably cared about him. And then one day everything connected to him had simply been taken away from them like it never existed at all. The thought made something cold crawl slowly through my chest. “So they don’t remember you at all anymore?” I asked quietly. “No.”

“I don’t… I don’t know if I have any left. They took all of it, I think. They took everything.” Silence. I heard the clock ticking. Tick, tick, tick. Each second sounded like a heartbeat I couldn’t slow down. She said, “Then maybe it’s time to start taking it back.” That’s when I felt it — the sting behind my eyes. My hands went cold. “You don’t understand,” I whispered. “If I take it back, I’ll have to remember it all.” Her eyes didn’t flinch. “Then remember it here. Where it’s safe.”

Fearing. "You must forget them." The Forgotten One says simply. "Your mates. Your family. Your love. You return to life. You live your mortal years. You die naturally. Immune to the Absolute because you forgot why you wanted to live. Forgot who you loved. Forgot what made you desperate. You become immune through amnesia. Protected through forgetting. Free through loss." Horror crashes through my fading consciousness. "I have to forget my family? My mates? My Luna? My Hope? Everyone I love? That's the price?"

I used to think strength meant standing tall no matter what, but now I know it’s about learning to stand again after you’ve fallen, even when you don’t want to. People see you smile and assume you’ve healed. They don’t see the weight you carry in silence — the ghosts you tuck behind every laugh, the memories that never fade no matter how many years pass. Twenty-six years since the night that stole everything from me, and I can still hear it sometimes — the shattering glass, the screams, the gunshots. I can still smell the gunpowder in the air.There are things you don’t ever forget. You just learn to live around them.

There is no coulda woulda shoulda with us, no regrets. So you invading our lives just made us make more memories. We tried things we had wanted to try. We upped the anti and lived harder than ever! Yes, you stayed on the periphery of our vision; that tends to be your way. You like to keep all of those touched by you, fearful of your return. It is your calling card, isn't it, your modus operandi. You like us never to forget your visit. But every single day, we got up and lived.

“That’s none of your damn business. Call me if she comes back. You’ve been paid. That’s enough.” And then they left. I floated behind them, a silent echo of the daughter they buried long before they found my body. Before they got into the car, I turned to look at the building one last time. Peeling paint. Flickering lights. The scent of smoke and old regret lingering in the stairwell. It wasn’t much. But it had been mine. And I had the sickening feeling… I’d never see it again.