While running for the train, I slipped on the steps, hitting face first on the cold slabs. It felt remarkably familiar. A stricken feeling overcame me like I felt I needed to hurry and chase the train or it’d be too late forever. I sat on the steps unable to break from it until Miss Rose, the paramedic from the hospital came to check on me. She placed her warm hands on mine and told me that everything would be alright. Small things can make such a difference. With the cold air kissing my face as I finally got up, it was then I decided that living without memories might be better after all.
That ominous feeling had grew with intensity despite my locked memories only giving me a sad feeling in the beginning. I walked back junction where they found me wounded. Why haven’t anyone looked for me? I wonder many times if I was an orphan, if I had no lover. And some days I see a lady standing behind me in my reflection. The twisted smile that was neither happy nor evil made me wish I knew what happened, who she was. She must have been my lover. The way her ebony hair softly fell onto her slight shoulders, how each feature on her face reminded me of something sweet.
I found a name in a book I was reading, Lenora. The beauty of the name blew me away. I felt like I could remember the days in the sun, the cold days in bed with my hands on her warm back. Almost, remember. When the episode ended, I felt more bitter than I ever remember being. It felt like in the first time, I had an actual life before now. I was hopeless at art and no matter how I tried to draw her, I could never get the look of how she looked in my reflections on rainy days. And in spite of the artist tried to draw her from my description, she never looked as beautiful as I saw her. Perhaps I was beautifying her more than she was; it was from that thought that I believed without a doubt she was someone very important to me.
It was then I started my obsessive search for a person called Lenora.
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