Novel & Cerita Plastic Memories

Mental illness? Griffin suddenly realized he had overlooked something crucial. Emerald had struggled with depression during her adolescence. "Is there any way to restore her memory?" he asked urgently. Dr. Woods sighed. "It’s difficult—unless she experiences another intense emotional trigger. Amnesia can have many causes. Sometimes, the brain erases certain memories as a defense mechanism, especially if the patient is subconsciously afraid of something. It’s similar to how animals instinctively recognize danger when they encounter a fallen member of their own species. Whether her memory returns or not… well, with current medical knowledge, it’s nearly impossible to force it from the outside.

I pursued my older sister’s best friend relentlessly for three whole years before she finally agreed to a secret relationship with me. However, after five hidden years together, right as I was preparing to propose, I overheard a conversation between her and her friends. "Your first love is about to return to the country. How do you plan to handle that substitute boyfriend of yours?" "Make sure you have a solid excuse when you break up with him. Don't make it too ugly, or Cora will never forgive you if she finds out her little brother got hurt." After a long silence, she made her decision. "Then I'll just fake amnesia. I'll pretend I forgot the past five years. Since it was a secret relat

She scrapes one edge with her nail and sniffs the residue. "No fresh adhesive," she says. The doctor checks the leads. "No needle. No sample trap I can see." Leo's lens gives one dull flash. "Echo inside wax," he says. Everyone looks at him. "Storage?" I ask. "No. Not storage. Memory of storage." "I need that to mean something useful." "Old socket remembered being used wrong." The doctor stares at the coupler. "Devices do not remember." Sarah says, "This family has a flexible policy on that."

“Mr. Winters, no one intentionally sealed her memories.” Pete’s gaze was serious as he said, “She must have encountered an accident, which caused her memory loss. In this situation, a few sessions of hypnosis would help her recall her past memories, but…” He paused for a while. Duke pursed his lips and softly continued, “Her mood changes whenever people related to the past are mentioned. The effects of the biochip haven’t been completely dispersed. If her memories are forcefully restored, it’s very likely…”

The scientist stated, feeling exasperated. "How will them few memories help if she won't remember him?" The man at the head of the table asked as he narrowed his eyes. "She will be scared since she will have no memories at all. She will be confused because she will know how to walk and talk but she won't remember how she can walk and talk." The scientist started to explain. "So you want us to use that fear to bond with her." Someone else said. "Yes. It is important that you take your time to bond with her. Use the videos and pictures of the past to create the future that you want." The scientist stated as he turned his laptop towards everyone.

But I was still not in the mood for calls, so I decided to turn my phone off. I woke up the next morning, I didn't know when I slept in. My head was still banging, and I was reminded that my husband was dead. Last night's event kept replaying, I looked beside my nightstand, I took our wedding portrait and looked at the man I married, The one who left me a widow even though he's been gone for a long time his Memories of us were still fresh in my head. Tears filled my eyes, my sight was blurry, I placed the portrait upside down and made my way to the kitchen counter to take some medications for the headache. Knock knock (someone was knocking)

Most of what she skimmed looked like medical gibberish to her. She opened another journal with a bookmark. In that article, he had written about an experimental drug called Memrose. He had developed it with a former colleague who was a neurosurgeon as well. It was a drug that could be used to erase the memory of prisoners of war. After years of testing and adjusting, Memrose was successful in wiping the memories of prisoners of war as far back as a year. They would have no memory of where they were held and what they were asked or what they had told the enemy before being released. “Oh my God!”

“I wonder if your mother would’ve changed her mind and named you something else if she would’ve known your name didn’t quite match your personality.” “It’s not my personality,” Memory corrected. “I just get... distracted. I can remember important things. Like people’s birthdays. And favorite colors. And recipes for snickerdoodle cookies—even if I don’t remember to take them out before they burn.” “Now that I’m glad you can remember,” Bryce agreed. “Well, I should get to work.” “What’s that?” Memory asked, noticing a flyer in his hand. The red and green trim looked similar to the one she’d seen blowing down the street earlier.

He asked amused. “Isn’t it too soon. Isn’t it dangerous?” I queried and he shook his head. “10 years is a long time. Memory is a tricky thing. Maybe it is so ingrained that she remembered is easily. And good memories are easier to recall than bad ones. And good memories are not dangerous. Just nothing too triggering for now. It is good if she remembers some things. It will also help reassure her,’’ the doctor told me and I nodded even though it did not put me at ease one bit.

I will, Adrian. My last memory of you… I would never forget it.