Sunday, January 22, 2012


Alison would always joke that her old age was getting to her, despite the fact that she was only twenty-four years old. She would forget the small, everyday things that normal people would usually forget. Things like where she put her keys, whether or not she turned the stove off, and her library books. She happened to forget them a lot.

Her boss was always scolding her for being late to work. That excuse is getting old, is what he told her.

It wasn't her boss that scolded her, but her family as well. She forgot that there was supposed to be a family gathering. She was tasked with bringing some of the food, and helping to set up. She didn't show up. Her family was understandably furious with her.

Old age, she said, must be getting at me.

They told her to stop making up excuses and to actually take responsibility for her own actions. Besides, how can anyone forget something as big as a family gathering?

She had that problem since adolescence. Her grades were in the gutter because she constantly forgot that she even had homework. She was always told to stop being lazy and do the work.

She lost some friends due to forgetting important events that they were supposed to do together. She grew up isolated because of her forgetfulness.

The apartment that she lived in currently was not the one she moved into after leaving the security of her parents' house. Oh no, the original burned down. She forgot to turn off the stove. Many people were injured, a few died.

She would never, could never forget that fire.

Out of all the things Alison forgot, she wished that she could forget her sin. But that would never happen. She would always remember the people that died due to her carelessness.


Yet, despite the fact that Alison was used to her poor memory, she found that it was getting progressively worse each and every day. Things that she could normally remember, like her childhood, she found that she could no longer remember. The hole in her childhood was growing bigger and bigger everyday. One day she remembered her first day of kindergarten and the very next day she forgot it. Yet she remembered remembering her first day, just not the actual memory.

She was invited to another family gathering. This time, it was just her parents and her sister. Four people total.

Holes. Her life was filled with holes. Where she was at a certain point of time, what she did. She had no clue. She couldn't remember.

She could feel something painful in her throat as she walked up the steps to her parents house.

Sometimes, she would briefly forget who her family members were. It scared her, but then she remembered them.

Her head was hurting an awful lot as she struggle to keep her throat from hurting. She must keep a calm appearance.

The headache did not cease as she reached out to open the door. She spotted an old man besides the house across the streets. He was watching her through those sunglasses. For a while, she briefly forgot why she was there and was about to turn back but something inside told her not to. She turned back to the house and opened the door.

She could not remember why she was at that house in the first place.

Just like how she couldn't remember how all that blood got on her hands or who those people were. She wondered who the the two women were and immediately felt sorry for them but she didn't know them. Nor did she know who that man was, although his face was bashed in so she'll never figure that out. She just couldn't remember how they died nor who they were.

There were three of them. That's all she knew.

1 comment:

  1. .....I hate Them sometimes. Why they have to cause so much pain is beyond me.


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