Why We Remember Book Review Novels & Stories

If I did, I may remember the things I wanted to forget. ‘The Alpha’s Omega,’ was one of many books I had read. Its plot did not stand out to me but why now, at this point, did I remember everything, even lines that I had totally forgotten about? Why did I remember the sensation I got when reading it and why, of all the books I had read, did I have to enter this one?

“As for pictures that are not in the house, I am not a fan of putting pictures around. The memories that we had were somewhat darker when I was a kid and that is one of the reasons why I am choosing to build new memories, I guess.” “You have an interesting concept, but sometimes, it is best to have memories.” She said, and I smiled. “You know, something that you can go back to at times. A reminder of who you are and where you came from.” “It is why I have the library,” I said, and she smiled. “I go back to it and read whenever I want to remember where I am. I find it more reliable, I guess.”

I stared at him and shook my head. I remembered a line from a book by Brianna Wiest: When our lives revolve around someone, they don’t just stop doing so, even if all that’s left is the semblance of their memory. There are always those bits that linger. Was it even possible that I remembered everything about him? We were back to being strangers, yet I never felt like he had returned as one to me. His birth date, the day we first met—those dates were no longer just ordinary markers on a calendar. They had weight, history, meaning.

“I saw your annotations in it.” Hoyles’s eyes widened. “Didn’t I just give you that book before class? And the relevant material is near the back. I refuse to believe you just happened to flip to that page and memorize it. Medical knowledge is profound and difficult—without foundational knowledge, it’s hard to grasp after one reading.” “I read the whole book once and memorized it. But I only memorized it by rote—I don’t fully understand it.” “You memorized everything after just one read?” Hoyles grabbed my shoulders in disbelief.

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Quentin and I both took a leave from school and flew back to my hometown on the same day. On the way back home, Quentin gently shook my hand and asked, "When did you remember? How did you remember?" I tilted my head. The winter in the south contained all four seasons, and today happened to be warm. I said leisurely, "I was brought to you because of that book before. Last night, I remembered you because of that book again." "It seems that the book is really worth being placed in the shrine." I sneered, "I threw it away. Terrible service, it made me forget about you!"

Apparently… Louis hadn’t. “You remembered.” The words escaped before I could stop them. He nodded once. “You said you wanted it.” I stared at the book. A strange ache spread through my chest.Not because of the gift itself. But because it reminded me of the woman I had been back then. The woman who had waited endlessly for small gestures. Who had convinced herself that being remembered was enough. I slowly closed the wrapping around the book again. “Thank you.” I meant it. His expression softened. “But…”

When only Shrey and George remained, Shrey exclaimed, "Why, just why, does this happen to me, George? I'm going insane; I fucking don't understand my own behavior anymore, and I feel like ending this life. I-I want our life back, George, the way we used to live before, and I want my daughter to love and embrace me the way she did before that terrible accident. I want to remember everything, George; our memories are the most precious part of my life, but all I have now is a small glimpse of our moments with our children, and this isn't enough. Please do something, George. I know in my heart that I love you.

Tabitha looked disgusted, “to burn it, silly girl. That book shouldn’t exist. If you don’t believe me, you can watch me burn it.” “I will. But I don’t even know where this Helena is or how to kill her. I don’t even know why this all happened to me and why and if it made me kill people. I need your help to remember more, Tabitha. You need to do that weird thing where you go inside my head again.”

I wasn’t. “May I have it back?” ‘You should give it back, you rude twat!’ Bane scolded me. I took the book up to my eyes and scanned the content. Save for a few words on the front, it was relatively empty. “Oh. It’s a journal,” I rolled my eyes. “And it’s empty,” she had an accusing look on her face…one that made me frown as I handed the book back to her. “What?” “You know, since you forgot things…you didn’t think keeping a daily log of things would help you remember when your memory goes ‘poof!’?”