Chapter 1: Prologue

The scent of the tangy air, the rustling of the bamboo leaves in the wind.  They were all engraved into my memory.  They were my most precious memories that I had of my growing up years.

They too were my only few ones.  I wondered how no one ever came for me that day when I finally opened my eyes.  I dreamt of having a mother, a father and perhaps a sibling, but I waited and waited.  Till the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into days.  Before I knew it, I had lived several years without a name, identification or even memories of the past.

I had few memories.  Summer nights where the clouds were pregnant with rain often brought them back.  There was always a woody scent, the bamboo leaves that rustled in the wind, the rough paneled deck beneath my feet and that forlorn feeling in my chest.  It felt like it was a memory that I should not remember.  The doctor called it a Pandora box and I felt it sounded sinister.  I felt that they were not bad memories but simply sad yet I hesitated to find out what it is.

Despite having no memories, no real name, I never faltered.  Each day would be better than the previous I told myself and it felt that way.  I celebrated my birthdays on that I awoke in the hospital.  It seemed right.  They said I looked roughly sixteen and coerced me into taking the proficiency test but found I got them all right.  It was only then they declared that perhaps I just looked young for my age.  I secretly hoped that it was not that I look young but that I was a genius.  Even amnesiac could have their secret hopes and I enjoyed mine.

It seemed that many of my memories involved rain.  Sitting on the window ledge, watching the beads of rain fall onto the clear glass makes me feel wistful.  Hazy memories are pulled up while trying to hold them down often result in them slipping from my fingers.  Sometimes thoughts that have no link to my current situation would float to the surface.  One of the most frequent ones was, ‘If only I had cared for her more.’  On those days, I wonder why sort of life I lead before my accident.  Was I happier now? That was my niggling worry and I wondered why that was my greatest fear.

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Remembering

When the day comes, the sun that pours the warmth into my room touches me. It floods my cold body with the warmth that I long for. The dying sun that doesn’t burn my skin reminds me of the sun kissed fruits I used to eat, the sweet ice cream that I used to love. With its dying light, the dying warmth can no longer fill me with its heat and I can only long.

The moon serenades me with her sugary promises of a world that belongs to me alone. At night the flutter of the owl’s wings, the cold white light of the moon falling onto my stark lying body, the rustle of the leaves that sway to the wind’s song become one in my memories. The moon and her brilliant love so bright yet so cold.  I lie staring into her beauty, my doubts chased away.  Apart, I wonder why I had given the warmth away for her distant love. I wonder that every day for before her I am nothing but a man and without her I am nothing.

I saw her with her half closed eyes. Her head was leaning against the decomposing tree, her sliver tresses framing her alabaster face, her pale pink lips slightly ajar was how I first laid eyes on her. It was that pale beauty that I fell in love with. How long it had been since then, a hundred years had passed in a blink of an eye. There is no one left from my time, a foolish man I have been, reaching the outstretched hand into the unknown. The smile that charmed me, that turned my insides into ice and slush. There is no warmth in her body; there is no warmth in her love, there is only the sense of incompleteness left behind. The sound of the fabric as she wraps it around her drowns out everything else and I can only watch. Time is transient to me as her love is.

The curtain flaps loudly in the noisy breeze, the sound of the traffic outside taunts me and I can feel the heat of the sunlight that I cannot touch. The heavy curtains block off all the sunlight except the one trail that burns into the carpet, searing the colour off the carpet in its fiery blaze. I sit by the window watching the things I can never have and used to have. The honeyed crushed ice in a cone on the hot sweltering days, the cool chilled beer on cold days are now but sand in my mouth. There is no taste left for me besides her.

The dawn is breaking, the sound of the waking birds fill my ears as I lie beneath the trees. My body longs to stay and let the sun fill me with its warmth, a choice that tortures me, for there is a tomorrow that will never end without her.

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A/N: This story is purposely left opened ended. It is up to you to deduce what the hell I’m talking about, but if you deduce anything beyond a vampire remembering then tell me. I feel its incomplete still, lacking.

Memories

As she lay there in her half-awakened state, a sense of nostalgia fled into her. The sound of the fan overhead whirring, the quiet sounds of a couple talking, the distant sound of the television in another came to her like pieces of her past, she had forgotten it all. Alice wondered how she had forgotten her childhood just like that. She smiled slightly, the sound of a neighbor’s bird squawking, the laughter of the children reminded her more of it. Finally she had begun to remember. Like a person who had lost her memory, the fear of being someone she would never know and understand her plagued her.

How funny such simple stuff had awakened her memory. She continued to lay there, eyes half closed. Simply taking in the sounds of passing day, it must have been something she had loved a lot, enough for her to feel it so clearly in her heart. She longed to see the people she had called parents for so many years again. Patiently waiting for the memory to return like a lost child, patiently not realizing the true reason why she had lost her memory. Sometimes, its was better to forget in the end.

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Author’s Note:
A short one, there wasn’t really much planning for this one this time.