Seared Into My Brain Novels & Stories

ME INCLUDED! But I wasn’t complaining, this place was a bomb, and I should admit that I had my fill of fun last Saturday. Even more, I experienced something I have never thought I would ever experience ever again. And right now all I could think about was it! Nothing more. It seemed like it had infested my brain, occupying a much larger part of me until all I could think was it. It felt like a tumor, the way I nursed it, the more it spread throughout my system.

My heart pounded in my chest, the anxiety climbing with every second, until the final layer fell away. The sight of the fresh bite mark sent a wave of horror crashing over me. It was unmistakable—deep punctures, red and angry, surrounded by bruised skin. A mark that wouldn’t fade, no matter how much time passed. The memory hit me all at once, like a flood I couldn’t stop. I remembered standing with Aiden, telling him I hadn’t betrayed him. I remembered his lips on mine, the fire between us igniting into something uncontrollable, something wild.

I could reach for it now if I wanted to, but some instinct warned me against doing that, and as I turned my mind away from it, I discovered the second, more alarming fact. The memory from earlier—the sealed one that caused all of this; I could feel it pulsing inside my head like a cancer, seal and all. I was no closer to prying its contents open, but instead of remaining tucked away in some hidden corner of my mind, it seemed that touching it had the effect of making me uncomfortably aware of it. Goosebumps broke out all over my skin as the realisation set it, and I felt my headache begin anew. Before I could truly give into the onset of panic brimming inside me though, Kane’s voice cut thro

‘Who is it again? Trying to regain my memory, Cassius’ image appeared inside my mind. ‘Oh my god. I am leaning to Cassius’ shoulder right now!’ Our present positions were almost the last that I could hope to happen. Grave embarrassment seized upon me, and the chill of shame made my head shut down above me like a pile of cloud. I felt the pounding of my heart, which wasn’t cause by being overwhelm but rather because of huge disgrace to myself. My brain is in the mess, like it sat on a chair without seat-belt and the roller coaster ride started to go on and on, round and round.

The following morning, I woke with the image of the strange burned into my mind, as vivid as if I’d just seen him. That intense, almost otherworldly look in his eyes kept replaying, refusing to let go. I tried to shake it off, but every time I closed my eyes, he was there—like a phantom in the corners of my thoughts.

“Remember where you’ve been to see how far you’ve come,” I mumbled to myself, pushing the psych paper aside. “Yeah alright, Gramps. Fuckin’ helps if you’ve actually got somewhere, though, doesn’t it?” I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, rubbing harshly. Hear something enough and it’ll be burned into your body, scarring your skin and tattooing itself in your mind. It didn’t matter how long ago the words were said. It just mattered that they were.

It felt as though he was thrusting inside of me five times in a second. I felt my brain frying up because of the sweetness. I couldn't think of anything other than the hot moment.

The phrase echoed in my brain, and it made my stomach tighten with realization. That small piece of information suddenly made everything clear. That was a big deal, and part of me didn’t want to believe it. It changed how I saw everything. I’d always known she kept secrets, but this kind of secret was different. It felt dangerous, like opening a door I wasn’t ready to walk through.

When I screamed, they injected me. And all the while, they spoke about me like I wasn’t even there. No. I don’t want to remember. I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself to go to sleep and forget about the painful memories. But they remained frozen in my brain. When I finally drifted off, I woke again minutes—maybe hours—later, drenched in sweat, the echoes of those memories still clawing at the back of my mind. I sat up, chest tight. My throat felt like sandpaper.

A contradiction that burned itself into my brain and refused to let go. Eighteen. That number slams into my skull like a freight train going full speed. But it doesn’t stop the fire in my gut. It doesn’t stop the way my lungs feel too tight, too hot, like I’m breathing in gasoline. It doesn’t stop the way her image is seared into the backs of my eyes—those curves pressed against wet fabric, the outline of her thighs, the barely-there lace beneath it all. I bite down so hard my molars grind. My fists clench like I’m ready to fight the devil himself. Or maybe myself.