Memories Not To Be Believed

Not To Be Forgotten- Chapter 1- Scar

I do not remember how the cut on my neck got there. The skin has not quite grown back together and it still has purple lining the edges. It must only be about a week old, it will surely scar.

The bathroom door opened and a girl walked into a stall behind me, making me realize I was still in the library’s bathroom. I also realized I didn’t remember why; or how I got here. I was lucky I could remember my name. Madeline. Madeline Rune. Maddie. Slowly, I started to feel a little more myself. I gathered my things and left the bathroom. I weaved my way through the library almost blindly. I knew it well. Something kept rubbing against my wrist and I had just enough time to look down and realize it was a hospital bracelet before I slammed right into a body and my bag went flying, along with it’s contents.

“Shit. I am so sorry, I walked right into you,” I said as I bent down to collect my things. A pair of hands went for my bag and picked it up.

“No worries, I was kind of in your way.” I looked up to see the source of the voice. My stomach dropped. He was about 2 inches taller than me with broad shoulders and a handsome face. But that’s not why my stomach kept twirling. There was something so familiar about him but I couldn’t place it. He handed the bag out to me.

“Do you have everything?” he said, while his eyes scanned the floor carefully for anything I missed. There was a hopeful look in his eye. My body was trying to tell me something. Whether to flee or stay I couldn’t really tell. I took the bag from him and noticed three long scratch marks on his forearm. It looked like someone had raked their fingernails down his arm. I decided I was not myself enough to try and talk to strangers, let alone this one. I quickly thanked him and made my way out of the library, I felt like his eyes watch me the whole way out. 

The Rock.

I stood at the entrance to my cave,

Still and Unmoving.

I came to this spot every day searching for something outside,

Something new in the desert that stretched bare until the horizon.

I scanned the water hungry ground with a sinking in my stomach until my eyes found a shape. 

I felt the hope would pour out of me if I did not swallow it and with a gulp I ran to the shape and found a rock.

Terrified, I returned to my cave never showing the rock my back, unsure of what it would do.

For days I stood at the entrance, watching.

It did not move, it did not change, but I did.

My greedy eyes pulled me from my entrance and drew me closer to the rock.

It was not the smooth thing it appeared to be. It was covered with lumps, jagged edges, and crevices that led to blackness.

My lust to touch it overwhelmed me and my fingers betrayed me, reaching out to scratch the itch.

My eyes closed, heavy with satisfaction. 

The texture was so beautiful; my hand began to run along its surface as if being guided by a magnet.

Life was beneath my palm; I could not stop touching this hope.

Before I knew it my hand was covered in blood,

I did not stop. I had to touch every inch of it. 

The Great Effort.

I wanted more than anything to remember that moment so clearly that I stopped to trace every line of the scene before me. The set of the sun through the window, the lazy placement of scattered belongings, the way his lips formed the words I should have been listening to. Looking back now, I wish I had just lived the moment instead of committing it to memory. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe I would remember the words. 

An Introduction

What will follow will be a series of short stories or in some cases, chapters, involving memories from people who are completely un-existent.