Plastic Memories Novels & Stories

Emma: Year: 2002 As memories are known to be lost throughout the process of growth, we still may have those special ones that just stick. It’s so ingrained into our memory that it is shocking we can even remember it. So the question is, did it really happen? And why is that we always remember the bad ones?

Paglabas ko hindi ko alam na sumunod pala si Ellen sa akin, at ikinabit ang mga kamay sa braso ko. "I don't wike it." She said while grinning from ear to ear with her teasing eyes. Oh god, not again. "He looks familiar by the way," "That's the boy in the picture," I pointed out for her to remember. It's funny how she memorize all the 'chismis' but she forgot those things. "Oh, he's one of them. The drummer." she added, "I think someone just obliviate me," she tsked. I laughed hard. I cannot!

The girl spoke softly. "You tried." Silence. The First Memory's hands trembled. The Seven stared in disbelief. The little girl smiled again. "Stories that are forgotten eventually die." A pause. "But we never existed." The words chilled reality. The girl pointed toward Nova. "And now she remembers." Memories exploded inside Nova. Not memories. Anti-memories. Things that had been removed from existence. Things erased before they could become real. Possibilities abandoned. Worlds rejected. Lives never lived.

He wanted to fall asleep but she couldn't. Pearl's mind was suddenly bombarded by a flood of memories, fragments of imagery and sound that seemed both familiar and foreign at the same time. It was like trying to grasp at smoke, the details always slipping through her fingers before she could fully register them. The images were mostly blurry and indistinct, as if she was viewing them through a glass that had been smeared with grease. She strained to recall more details, but it was as if the memories were just out of reach, taunting her with their elusive nature.

"Sometimes, the mind can bury memories deep within, especially if they're too painful to face consciously. It might not be a single event but a build up of stress, fear, or grief. Your mind might be trying to shield you from something you're not ready to confront. It comes even when facing a thought or idea might be too much for you. Or it could be black magic. If someone planted some blue bleorda at your bedside, or around where you lay your head at night, you could keep losing your memory. Brad took a sip of his tea, his brow furrowed in thought. "But how do I get my memories back? I don't want to live like this, feeling like a stranger in my own life. Besides, I don't think there's a plan

The necklace was with me since then, but I didn't know where that necklace came from since my memories from the past were gone. That would be my biggest revelation, why my memories aren't present? Why couldn't I remember anything from the past? Even a single memory with my parents. I didn't know, but I'll find the answers soon. The necklace was beautiful it has some white diamonds in it. Well, though I wanted to buy that I didn't have much money, even a penny except for the money Hildred gave me. "Do you want that?" I was just shocked when I heard his voice. He's so close to me, whispering to my ears.

"If I’m still alive, then it can’t be that bad!” Aunt laughed and said, "Summer, you're going to live a very long life!" The surgery had gone really well. The doctor said I might lose some memories, but I still recognized everyone I had seen so far. Even though I sometimes felt like I had forgotten some things, I did not really want to remember them anyway. In fact, I thought forgetting might make me even happier. Once I was out of danger, I moved to a regular room. With Aunt looking after me, I started feeling better really fast.

I became pregnant again and again, only to miscarry every time. In less than a year, I lost my ability to bear children. Half my body was paralyzed. My husband, Chris Macken, spent a fortune hiring a foreign research team capable of extracting memories from the human brain. I became an experiment. "Jenny, the day you let my sister die with injustice hanging over her head, you should've known this day would come! "She treated you like family. And you repaid her by working with her killer to destroy her. This is your retribution!"

I snapped, “Or you might as well resign from your post now.” He shut his mouth instantly, his shoulders stiffening. Good. It was easier to get their attention when I was cold and aggressive. “She remembered me earlier today. What went wrong?” I kept my gaze on the top of his head. A smirk touched thecorner of my lips as he gulped. “The brain sometimes suppresses memories surrounding trauma,” he stated, his eyes stuck on the ground. “It could be five, ten years back. She remembers her early life and the people in it.”

"No sweat. I'll join you in Eldonfield instead." ... Morning light filtered in, and I opened my eyes, my head pounding from yesterday's flurries. Still, my friend's birthday beckoned. Gift in hand, I couldn't skip it. My phone buzzed with a message from Ted: [Forgot these. Swing by tonight.] Attached was a photo of the Snoopy pajamas. They were a sneaky couple's set I'd bought—one for him, one for me. Whenever he wore his, it sparked a fleeting illusion of happiness, as if he belonged to me, even if just for a moment. In hindsight, it was pathetically laughable.