Novel & Cerita Plastic Memories

PHOEBE I spent the entire night tossing and turning, my mind trapped in a chaotic, unending loop of ocean-blue eyes and haunted confessions. Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory. The man literally couldn’t forget a single bad day if he tried. Every slight, every grief, every scratch on a wall or tone of voice was locked away in his brain in permanent, unyielding high-definition. It was mind-blowing, it’s exciting yet I could guess how exhausting it might also be. I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten for breakfast last Thursday, and my entire childhood before the age of ten was just a blank, velvety void of nothingness—a biological mercy file my brain had apparently decided to delete fo

I see when she screams his name for the first time — a sound I recognize, but with an inflection I have never heard directed at me. I place the binoculars on the passenger seat. Not because I am unable to observe. Because I have already collected enough data to confirm the variables I needed to confirm. I lean back in the seat, staring at the vehicle’s ceiling, processing. Evie Callahan possesses somatic memories of Declan that predate any conditioning I implemented. Neuroplasticity has documented limits — memories formed before cranial trauma, especially those associated with intense emotional response, are the most resistant to overwriting.

The air was thick with anticipation, as if the walls themselves held countless untold stories. I approached the reception desk, where a young woman with piercing blue eyes and an enigmatic smile greeted me. Her name tag read "Lena." "Welcome to Memoria," she said, her voice soft yet confident. "How may I assist you today?" "I... I've heard that you can erase memories," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is it true?" Lena nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, it's true. Memoria specializes in memory alteration. We help individuals who seek to escape the pain of their past, to start anew."

"Do you really want to know how much pain I have felt back then?" Zoey nodded. "Hmm." "I blamed myself, Zoey. Like you, I kept dreaming a bad dream but it was about the morning that I had found grandpa's body lying dead inside my room. But, you know what's funny? I have a fucking photographic memory." "Photographic memory? Is that. ." "Photographic memory is the ability to recall a past scene in detail with great accuracy, just like a photograph, even days or weeks or months after you saw the object."

Toast to the ones here today Toast to the ones that we lost on the way 'Cause the drinks bring back all the memories And the memories bring back, memories bring back you The light turned green. The silver gray Mercedes S600 cruised down the freeway, travelling south. There's a time that I remember When I did not know no pain When I believed in forever And everything would stay the same Ethan was sitting in the front passenger seat with so much soft leather around him that he could barely hear the 389 horsepower,6-liter engine...

He couldn't. Hope surged through my veins as I hurriedly picked up the second bottle and turned it to read its label. Remembro. And, that's was when all that was glued back together with hope. Shattered all over again. Pieces of me laid there on the floor. Shattered. Tears brimming in the corner of my eyes, making them shine. Remembro is an illegal drug in Eleneas. It is used to damage the memory power of a person making them unable to remembering things.

How could I not remember? For me there has never been such a thing as forgetting; nothing is hazy or vague or frayed at the edges. I hoard memories like a miser counts his gold. Every scrap of a moment is kept as long as it has some value. I don't see anything photographically. Instead I make connections, spinning them together like a spider weaving a web, threading one strand into the next.

It was heavy and oppressive. “These substances,” George continued, his tone sharpening slightly, “when used repeatedly and over long periods, can interfere with how the brain stores and retrieves memories. They do not just block memory in the moment—they disrupt the structure of memory itself.” My fingers trembled slightly. No. No… “That’s not possible,” I whispered, shaking my head faintly. “I would know if I was being drugged—” “No,” June’s voice came gently from the doorway as she stepped inside, her expression sympathetic but firm. “Not necessarily.”

I carefully placed it within the player and threaded the plastic film reel into the holder before pressing play. I took a seat as it started to play, and it wasn’t long until I realized that this wasn’t a memory, it was an outcome… A future outcome, involving Ambrosia.

They became speechless for a moment before a loud guffaw echoed around the corner of the room. Green leaves all over the place, fresh breeze of air that pushes the scents of the variety flowers in the garden to fill in my nostrils and the calm music of swaying pine tress made me feel nostalgic. A damsel in distress always stay her ass off here when she was tired and exhausted. She looks up the sky full of stars and waited until she gets better. Yeah, that’s how my life works before especially in the times when I messed up and all that I have was my cousin, Marcus. I missed him so much. I hadn’t seen him starting the day that I left home.