So many memories are bombarding my mind, waiting to be heard, seen and felt. Visions flash before me; first places I have been and then faces. Some are laughing, smiling and others are sobbing and even full of fear. All of them I have known from before. Some I hold dear and loved deeply yet others like the man with an upturned moustache was just a passerby walking his dog.
But they told me I would forget.
I recall voices. So many voices all talking at once, merging into one hellish cacophony of noise.
They told me I would forget.
The memories keep on coming, speeding up making me feel sick. I want it to stop.
I want to forget.
Then I remember a memory clear and slow. The sky is clear and blue. She is in the doorway holding our baby and she smiles as I turn and wave goodbye. I promise them I will be home soon. I remember.
I do not want to forget.
I hear the scream. The thud. Silence.
Anger and frustration burn inside me building up. I scrunch my eyes, ball my fists and yell as loud as I can.
Then I forget.
Kate Kenzie Writes 