Novel & Cerita Reminisce Book

“I’m not sure. I wish I could remember my real name.” “Give it time.” “You seem so sure of that.” “I am, but until then, we need to discuss what you should do until your memory returns.” “What do you mean?” “Well, we have cleared you for the most part. We can’t find anything wrong with you.” “But I can’t remember anything about myself.” “As we told you before, that’s because you have Retrograde Amnesia. With this condition, your memories can resurface at any time.” “Or never.” “It does you no good to think that way.”

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.

As she opened a drawer to retrieve a pen, her hand brushed against an old, dusty book tucked away in the corner—a relic from the past. Curiosity sparked, Jette pulled out the forgotten book, its weathered cover and faded pages bearing the weight of memories long tucked away. It was a journal, the pages filled with the handwritten entries of a younger Jette—a version of herself navigating the labyrinth of dreams, uncertainties, and the promise of a future intertwined with Drew.

The girl said. “Same here. I actually thought that this book wasn’t popular but you’re reading it as well. Oh, I’m Kayne by the way, Kayne David.” “I’m Natsumi Koga, it’s nice to meet you!” “Ah yes, you as well. I was actually about to ask if you always come here.” Kayne asked. “Uhuh, I always go to this café every time I go to town, this is actually kind of my spot, haha.”

Inside the Archive, the shelves moved with my breath. I passed by a book bound in velvet dusk. Its title: The First Time You Chose Softness Over Safety. Another: How You Loved When No One Was Looking. I reached for a third. It burned with light before revealing its name: What You Became When You Stopped Trying to Be Understood. I wept then—not from pain, but from reunion. The guide touched my shoulder. “There’s one more,” they said. They led me to a door I hadn’t noticed.

I walked around, idly scanning the book spines as my mind traveled back to the books Olivia used to read at that auditorium eleven years ago. The first book she forgot, David B. Steinman’s Bridges and Their Builders, I took home and only returned days later to the exact chair she’d left it. She apparently noticed and started to ‘forget’ more books; The Nature Of the Physics World, An Introduction to Mathematics, The Human use of Human Beings, and more books I assumed were her favorites she wanted me to read too. And the whole time, we never said a word to each other, till that prom night.

I stared blankly at the bookshelf in front of me. No. Absolutely not. I shoved the thought away immediately. I am not going to think about him. Especially not after the way my pulse had reacted earlier when Derek looked at me in the training grounds. And definitely not after Fiona’s teasing. Nope. I walked over to a shelf in search of a book, trying to divert my attention from dangerous thoughts. The shelves here seemed older than the others, filled with history texts, magical records, and strange psychological studies. One title immediately caught my attention. Childhood Memory Loss and Magical Trauma. My fingers stilled on the spine and slowly, I pulled the book free. A strange heaviness s

Anything. Her fingers grasped a small, forgotten journal. She threw it across the room, the pages fluttering like wounded birds. Moments after she threw it, a forgotten memory resurfaced, and her head snapped to where the book landed–just in front of the door. She rushed to pick it up as a fresh wave of memories crashed down upon her. Her fingers slowly grazed over the cover, nostalgia settling in. A small, strained sigh escaped her lips as she tentatively opened the book.

It was as if every piece of knowledge that could be useful in this world had been gathered and preserved here, waiting to be used by those who needed it. My fingers moved slowly across the shelves until they stopped on one particular title. Herb Remedies & Elixirs. The moment I read the words, something shifted inside me. It wasn’t just recognition—it was something deeper, sharper. Images flooded my mind without warning, vivid and overwhelming. A small room, dimly lit, with books scattered across a bed. Pages filled with notes written in hurried handwriting. My hands holding one of those books, flipping through it quickly, trying to memorize something important. The feeling of pressure, of n

Caleb's finger had been cut by the metal edge of the gift box, and blood was seeping out. But he seemed to feel no pain, just staring blankly at my ring. "Uncle… he treats you very well," Caleb murmured, his voice thick. "Cliff roses, pink diamond rings, moonstone necklaces…" "He gives you everything I couldn't." I was silent for a moment, not quite understanding the depth of his regret. "Caleb, you chose to refuse two years ago," I said calmly. "It's too late to regret it now." "I know," Caleb gave a wry smile. "I just wanted to prove that I could also…"