Never Forget What They Took From Us Novels & Stories

They took everything good that could ever happen in my life away from me and I haven't forgotten. And I will get back what belongs to me. Piece by piece and heart by heart and they will pay not just with their tears but with blood and by the time I'm done with each and every one of them, they will be back for my mercy but too bad I won't have any left to give to them.

Power and wealth to them is their right and they are the only people that deserve it. And that was with no exception to us. They took what was ours—my mom`s custom rings. Her sweat and blood. Her life. I wipe the snot running down my nose and inhale gulps of air. Looking in the mirror I am met with red-shot eyes. Memories of the past continue to seep through my mind. The past brings a surge of pain in my already wounded and battered heart. 8 YEARS AGO I watch as the sleek Mercedes Benz rolls into our compound.

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.

Did she lose her memories and had chosen to forget what sort of monster they are? I grabbed my backpack, pulling out the only photograph I had of our parents. It was a family picture we took years ago before any of these unfortunate incidents started. I rubbed my thumb over their faces, their warm smiles reminding me of the love and warmth they once showered us with. Unfortunately, Valerie forgot all about that and left me behind to drown in my sorrows. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. I'll do this all alone. Val must've forgotten revenge, but I won't. I would never. If one sibling can't do it, the other will.

Silence stretched longer this time. “We were wrong… because we never taught him how to let go.”

“But I think you need reminding.” I hesitated and my hands shook as I reached for the folder. Inside were pictures. Littered Bodies. My father’s cold, lifeless eyes staring blankly up at the camera. The house I had grown up in had been reduced to rubble. I blinked hard as tears blurred the images. “I don’t remember most of it, you know?” I whispered. “I know,” she said, softer now. “That’s why I kept these. So you would never forget why we’re here. So you would never forget what they did.”

"I do." They ate breakfast together. At the table. Not rushed. Not distracted. "I've been thinking about the months we lost," she said. "So have I." "I don't want to forget them. I don't want to pretend they didn't happen." He nodded. "Because if we forget, we might repeat them. And I can't do that again." He reached across the table. "Then we remember. And we learn. And we don't go back there." That afternoon, Maya visited her mother again. Ethan came with her. He sat in the waiting room while Maya sat with her mother.

Legacy. "When they were destroyed," my mother said, her voice barely above a whisper, "something rare nearly vanished with them." I felt it before she said it—the truth pressing at the edge of everything, cold and inevitable. I could see it reflected in my brothers' faces too. The slow, dawning weight of what we'd missed. What we'd treated as nothing. What we'd shoved into the snow and laughed at and told to find somewhere else to sleep. "What?" Ryker pressed, his voice strained down to almost nothing.

A child, living without the shadows of the past. She took a deep breath and turned to him, her expression softening, though the storm inside her still raged. “It’s just... I’m upset because people think they can forget things. They think they can forget the past, forget what was taken from them,” she said quietly, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. She paused, staring ahead, her grip on the wheel tightening again. “And that... that’s not right.”

And from below, the first whispers rose like steam: “Remember us. We never left. We simply forgot how to arrive.”