Breathe of Twelve





            Breathe of Twelve anmesia stories
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aren290
aren290 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
But yet, am I even sure when there's not a single memory present?

Breathe of Twelve

Lights On: Day One

I wake in some sort of white room. Dressed in pale blue, on a metal bed. Beep, beep! The sound of my hesrt monitor- it's weeping never endiing- the ceiling is blurry. I sturggle to stand.

Beep Beep Beep! It sounds erratic, franticly begging. faces appear hazy. I am lulled back to the dark.

Day Two

They tell me it's really day eight; but still I say day two as it's all I have correct. I can feel and move all but my legs. "Why cant I feel it?" I ask.

But they look at me; sorrow in their taciturn eyes. I don't understand. I'm sure I could move before. Someone please tell me what's wrong; please, I beg you make me understand.

I rage and cry but still they say; "Everything will be fine dear." Why do they lie? I don't understand why I'm so lost.

Day Three

I'm strapped onto a chair- "safety precaution" they called it- that I can't for my own benefit; move.

My legs which was being used by ancestors I have no memory of, to escape have clutched at me and metamorphosized into my gentle, hard prison. They feel dull in their heaviness.

I'm trapped by my own helplessness.

The Unknown Visitor: Day Four

This time they say day 14. I have a visitor; she called me big brother but I do not know her. when I tell her, she cries it's her fault. I don't understand why they look down on me with pity.

Day Five

My hands are shaking; I feel carved out, a hollow shell. This morning, the girl returned photo album in hand. I am present in most of these pictures but there's no memory to back this up.

I was struck by one of the photographs; there was I, an arm around her shoulders the other forming a V with my fingers.

She in her red plaid skirt and black top and me dressed in white shirt and suspenders coupled with a hat; we were smiling, pure laughter undisturbed by society I would imagine.

But still,....I remember not.

She tells me, "Please don't forget. I beg you remember me don't erase me." her voice breaking she went on, " If at all remember you."

As she left, I asked who the boy's name she'd mention in fleeting was without turning full of despair she replied, "It's you."

Day Six

Is it? My sense of time is distorted. I remember Daniel. Is that me? Who is Daniel? Who am I? Who was I? I don't know. I'm confused. I ask who I am? But they say "You are you.

" Who is that?" I question but they replied still vague "That's for you to discover." I don't understand, please don't go. I scream but they are gone. Who am I?

Day Seven

My chest hacks fume. I breathe through water. What am I doing here? The girl is gone; doesn't come anymore. I ask for her but they say none like that ever came.

I describe her but receive pitiful gaze thrown at me as they say "I'm sorry she's no more. Just you." I fall under.

Day Eight

I hear I'm the only one who made it. Made it through what? The moving chair; useless. My body weighs me down, I descend to madness. My hopes, my world is gone. Just me abandoned.

I cry but I don't seem to understand why. Why did they leave me? Who are they? My heart's in a maze, is losing strength to go on. Why did they leave me? Did I do something? Was I unworthy?

Day Nine

The girl returned, this time with others; a man and woman with a small boy. She wears the same clothes everytime.

I ask why? She says full of wisdom, "When people leave, the last glimpse are the impact." She kisses my cheek and makes to leave; the others following behind.

I stretch my hand to grab the hem of her dress. Please don't leave me again. I don't want to be alone again, I beg you; please stay.

Hands brush against my cheeks gentle breeze, but she still leaves.

Day Ten

I am weary, my eyes dim but the beeping keeps me here. Who am I? What's my purpose? Why do I try? I am tired. I need rest, my chest feels hollow.

Maybe I can let go, but of what? I don't know. I am confused.

A lady is in my room; eyes on the monitor I beg please don't forget me, for I can't remember who I am. She smiles sad and lonely "I won't." I close my eyes.

Day Eleven

My shameful and treacherous heart struggles in pain, body thins and lungs work on smoke. I am pathetic for struggling. But still, I go on.

Day Twelve

I have lost the battle. The erratic sounds from the monitor brings guests; but they are useless. As I succumb I ask, who am I? But they reply like always "You are you."

I am exhausted, in need for rest. My journey halted but complete. I descend to my bed of darkness, accompanied by a beep. Who am I?

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