Nightmare To Remember Novels & Stories

Chapter Twenty Seven . Nemesis's Point Of View . I woke up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding in my chest as the remnants of the dream slowly faded away. No, it wasn't just a dream; it was a memory, a vivid recollection of a horrific event that I had tried to bury deep within my subconscious. I had been the one responsible for the brutal murder of Xavier's first chance mate and their unborn child. The guilt washed over me like a tidal wave, threatening to consume me entirely.

Arabella asked, making sure, as Letta shook her head. "I can't be certain. I just feel that everything I dream about is a fragment of a memory I had previously forgotten,” Letta reiterated. "So, you mean you're dreaming? I mean, you're dreaming of everything you should remember?" Arabella asked, making Letta nod. "Indeed, it's been more than a week now, since I met a man who claimed to be close to me in the past. Since then, I've been having recurring nightmares. Initially, I was confused as to whether it was a recurring nightmare haunting me, but after talking to a psychiatrist, it's likely a fragment of memory I should remember," Letta said, causing Arabella to furrow her brows, not expect

Thalia woke to someone knocking on the door. It was interfering with her precious sleep and it honestly was the best sleep she'd had in ages. Sitting up in bed and stretching her arms deliciously, Thalia stared in the direction of the door. But she found herself looking at a wall. A blank light yellow wall. Wait. The door was meant to be there. With a jolt out of the bed, all of Thalia's memories of the past few days came back in a flash. The letter, the little girl, the magical book, time travel and the prince.

Soft but firm. She remembered the way he said her name. She remembered how her heart jumped. She remembered the confusion. Then darkness. Then pain. She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to remember,” she whispered. But she remembered. Every small detail. The way the curtain moved that night. The way the air felt heavy. The sound of the door closing. Her tears did not stop. Hours passed. The room became darker. Night came slowly. No one knocked. No one called her.

Remi-7 years later: After tossing and turning all night; I shake the memories from my head and get out of bed. I know why the nightmares have started up again. I just wish they would go away. Today is the anniversary of my twin brother and my mother's death. It's the anniversary of me dying and being brought back to life for a second time.

She didn’t shut her eyes, she couldn’t. The blood and that woman’s eyes seemed to be imprinted in her mind, it was as if a part of her mind that she had never had access to was open and she couldn’t get the picture of the nightmare out of her head no matter how she tried to forget. She knew what it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare. It was a memory of the night her mother had died.

The day I was released from prison, a woman claiming to be my ex-wife came to take me home. Instinctively, I pulled away when she reached for my hand. "I don't know you." She frowned, assuming I was still upset. "Five years ago, we agreed that once you got out, we'd remarry. Mom's getting older, and she misses you." Hearing that, I opened the diary I always carried with me. Written inside was an instruction: 'If someone claims to be your ex-wife, go home with her.' So, I did. After I returned home, I became the perfect husband and the perfect son in their eyes. When my ex-wife seemed to be fooling around with my younger half-brother, I pretended not to notice. When my mother openly admi

I couldn't tell if this is a direct result of the new battle or then assume again that it's from the explanation itself that my injury hasn't recovered at this point, however, I feel totally and utterly exhausted. "I knew what it meant," he muttered, indulging close to my mate. In any case, I can't remember the words, I'm sad. “Damnatio memoriae,” Gabriel reports quickly, figuring out how to redirect her gaze from the broken field to him. It involves the judgment of memory. Justin is a decent Latina instructor—she shows up without a hint of uncertainty when I cause a commotion. Furthermore, I think it also implies that what the fearmongers have done, whatever this latest product is, is not n

That night was so scary that I will remember it till the day I die. I even had nightmares for two consistent days. I was so scared to even close my eyes because I feared that when I opened my eyes, I would be back in the dungeon. Whenever I tried to sleep, the memories of darkness invaded my sleep leading to nightmares. I don’t want to return there ever.

— The Gentleman in Black Lena rolled out of the bed, breathless, panting. She couldn't count how many times she'd had that nightmare. All over and over again, a recurring memory stalking her in her sleep like it was trying to show her something, tell her something. Lena wasn't interested in that. Especially when what she really wanted was to forget all about that day. It ruined everything for her. And so it felt cruel of the world to let her relive it every night.