Memories In A Bottle

by Nobo13

MEMORIES IN A BOTTLE

  by Nobo13

  Copyright 2015 Nobo13

  *****

  Memories in a Bottle

  I stared her in the eye and decided not to hand it to her. She looked back at me with rage and anger, and I felt scared. But I knew it was for the best. I knew it would make it better for her.

  *****

  For a while now, I have been illegally processing memories. I was short on cash at the start, and with my situation at college, I had to find a way to make money.

  It made sense really, I learnt about it in the first year. I raised my hand and asked my lecturer the following: is it possible to make a memory physical and give it someone else. The lecture smiled at me as if I was asking all the right questions. Yes was the short answer. No, the long, because it was totally 100% illegal.

  Yet, here I was, making my little pills for anyone who wanted them. I charged a small fee, and ran the whole operations right out of my student flat. Odd people came at first, but then I found myself among the freaks and the depressed.

  I sold a lot of memories, every kind really, but she never wanted anything like that. She wanted something else.

  *****

  ‘Are you him?’ she asked at my door

  ‘Who are you looking for?’ I asked

  Between the gap of my doorway was a young woman with dark hair. She looked like she had been crying all night. She looked like some nice mother from the suburbs. Someone you’d have thought lived a happy life.

  ‘The dream pill guy?’ she asked

  I opened my door and looked around before letting her in. I offered a seat that she reluctantly took.

  ‘How can I help?’ I asked

  ‘I want a pill’

  ‘What kind?’ I smiled, ‘We have lots, did you want to go on holiday? I recently got hold of a holiday on the moon. Had to pay a lot for that’

  ‘No’

  ‘Then, maybe something special? Like a date with a handsome man? Pretty girl?’

  ‘No’

  ‘Then how about-

  ‘I just want my own’ she said quietly but confidently

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You can do that, right?’

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ I frowned, ‘You want your own memories?’

  ‘Yes’

  ‘Ok,” I nodded, ‘I can do that… is there one you wanted?’

  ‘Yes. Every memory of my husband’

  ‘All of them?’ I turned to her shocked

  ‘Yes’

  ‘I’ll have to do more than one pill. It might be a lot’

  ‘That’s ok. I have the money’

  ‘Ok. Ok’ I nodded as I felt I hit the jackpot

  ‘But’ she suddenly said

  ‘But?’ I turned to her again

  ‘I want you to change them’

  Going back to my question I asked my lecturer. The reason why it was illegal was because of what she was asking me to do. The use of false memories, or the brainwashing of someone, that is why is it illegal.

  ‘Change them how?’ I asked

  ‘I want you to erase him. Make each memory so blurry, and so forgetful, I will not remember him’

  ‘You want me to make you forget?’

  ‘Yes’

  I was always on the line between good and bad. But that day, I fell into the dark. I got her into the chair, and scanned for brain before finding all her memories of him. And before I knew it, I gave her the first pill.

  *****

  Everyday, there was a new pill. And everyday, she came by to get it. Gradually, she couldn’t remember why she needed them. She knew it was important though, as she wrote a note to herself to take them everyday.

  And every night I sat there, editing her memories, erasing the man on my screen so that she could forget. I realised quite soon how important he was to her. Going through all their memories together was like living in her shoes.

  I did feel guilty at the start. Invading her intimate moments. Seeing into their most private of times. And the guilt never went away. I kept taking away the fine moments of her life, undoing everything they’ve built together.

  And soon all the years they spent together was coming to an end. I was finally reaching the end of their story together.

  She had been coming to see me for about a year now. 340 pills so far. I wondered how many years those pills represented. How many moments did I take away from her? I grew accustomed to taking apart her memories that I never even realised I started dreaming about them. It wasn’t like I took pills myself, but just because I spend so much time with her memories, at some point they became mine.

  And it was this feeling I dreaded. I was finally reaching the end. I could finally find out why she wanted him gone so badly. Why we wanted him gone so badly.