Seared Into My Brain Novels & Stories

To drown out the sound of her laughter and her face still clinging to the recesses of my mind. But it didn’t work. It never fucking worked. Even when I barely knew her, she had seeped into my mind like a poison. Now—that poison had spread into my veins, saturating every inch of me. So what the fuck did I expect? To forget? To rip her from me like she wasn’t embedded into my very being? Impossible. The thought of her lingered—stubborn, insistent. Refusing to be buried. My jaw tightened, fingers curling into a fist as a dark promise settled into my bones.

Disaster. “Please, get out of my head!” I groaned again, muffling the words against the pillow. But it was no use. It was like his scent had seeped into my memory. No matter how hard I tried to shove him out, my mind pulled him back in. His voice, his smirk, the way my chest had fluttered when he leaned close. I hated myself for it.

The weight of guikt and remorse settled upon my shoulders, threatening to consume me. As I grappled with these distressing memories, it was important to remember that our minds could sometimes play tricks on us. The human brain is complex and recollections can become jumbled or distorted over time. A familiar memory came even the times I sat down to write stories about the lives of people because I was more than broken...

But later, he got tangled up with Lana and left me with nothing but endless pain. I got stuck in such an abyss and helplessly tried to grab everything I could. I wanted to find support to help me stand up. I gave him my support and tried my best to hold him. But instead, I stepped into the mud and got quite miserable. When I eliminated the lovesick part of my brain, I knew very well that I could never get his love again. At the sight of such data, the operating system in my brain started glitching. My eyelashes fluttered as I subconsciously stopped trying to push him away.

I’m drowning in it, suffocating under the weight of it. And then, the image of my father with Bahar, together in a bed, tangled in sheets. I try to deny it. I try to push it away, but it’s no use. It’s burned into my mind, over and over again, like a twisted, broken record. I can’t unsee it. I can’t escape it. I close my eyes, but the image is still there, vivid and clear. I can’t stop it from playing in my mind, from repeating itself like a song that never ends.

But it would not. “Why… why can’t I remember?” I muttered, my voice rough and hoarse. The picture seared my palm as if it were imbued with some sort of energy, as if it contained a piece of something I had once possessed. I tried to concentrate, my eyes shut, reaching deep within my brain. Faces, names, instances— anything. But it was all clouded. I could sense my aggravation rising like smoke within my chest, winding around my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

Every single thing he felt resonating on my skin, imprinting on my mind. I would never forget this. I knew it. I just wouldn't.

My chest tightened with unease. The haunting image of his lifeless eyes and the charred remains of his body plagued my every waking moment. It was as if my mind had carved a permanent, vivid portrait of that catastrophic incident. The memory, like a relentless echo, followed me wherever I went. But I knew, deep down, that constantly dwelling on the gruesome details would only serve to keep me trapped in a cycle of despair.

It clung to me, every word etched into my mind. And I knew that when I looked at him next, I wouldn’t be able to unsee it.