[MillietheWarrior]

I don’t…remember…

I want to…remember…

Bright lights. Flashes of a face. Someone saying they loved me. Who was she? Why do I keep seeing her? She haunts my dreams. I can’t close my eyes without seeing her face. She was crying. That’s what I remember. Tears swimming in her blue eyes. But who was she? I’m not sure. I wish…I wish I knew. There is an ache in my chest where my heart should be, and an emptiness inside. What is this emptiness? It feels like I’m missing something. Someone once told me that I didn’t have a soul.

But isn’t that what I am? Aren’t I not a soul without a body? Sometimes I wonder. People say that I don’t seem to be all there. That I’m nothing more than mist on the mountaintops. If I’m missing anything, then it is a body. I can’t remember the last time I felt cold, or warm, or hungry, or tired. I can’t remember the last time my feet ached or my stomach growled, or my heart beat. Did I ever have any of those things? I can’t remember.

But I want…to remember.

[MillietheWarrior]

There is sand.

Everywhere.

It is hot. Or at least, I think it is hot. I don’t remember heat. But I do remember summer. I remember the feel of the cool grass, the warmth of the sun on my fur. But I don’t remember the heat. Whenever I think of it, whenever I try to remember, I see her face again. Sometimes she’s laughing, sometimes she’s smiling. But always she is there. I don’t know if I’m by her side, or if she’s by mine, but there isn’t a memory without her in it. In one, she is holding a book, smiling down at me, leaning her head against my side. The grass is cool beneath me, but I can’t remember what that feels like. I just know it’s there. And I just know that I am content. That feeling of…contentment. It is something I want to get back. Something I am searching for. There is a feeling, deep inside of me, that longs to be named. It is what I search for. I search for her, and my memories, and for answers.

[MillietheWarrior]

I never regained my memories all at once.

It was always only one at a time. It was a frustrating feeling. I wish I could do something to remember. I don’t know how long I’ve lived in this limbo, brought back by a wish, kept anchored to the earth by the dreams of a child. The child was not the one I sought, but she was close enough. There was something that drew me to her, that kept me close by even when I desired to be far, far away. Her wish brought me life, but it was a pseudo-life; something unreal, untouchable. I was called a ‘ghost.’ It was an insulting term and idea, and I would have said so, had someone ever bothered to ask. I am not a ghost. At least, I don’t think I am. If I’m not a ghost, then what am I? Should I have these memories if I had not once lived and am no longer living now? It is very confusing. So I do not think about it. I search to remember, and I keep watch over the child, but I do not feel as though I belong.

[MillietheWarrior]

I know I’m different.

I’ve known since the day I was…born? I don’t think born is the right term. I think ’created’ is more like it. I didn’t live, but I existed. And it was this existence that was disbelieved and unaccepted by anyone other than the child. The child with the kind eyes and the kind voice. Who was she to bring me back? Did she wish for who I had been, or did she wish for who I could be? Had she known me in my other life? I doubted it; she was not familiar, and she showed no recognition the first time she’d seen me.

What a mockery of an existence she’d wished me into.

[MillietheWarrior]

I want to remember…

I want this to end. I was not made for this world. I am certain I should have vanished and disappeared long ago. But I linger on, and I remain.

Bright lights.

Her face.

Tears in her eyes.

I want…to remember…

There is sand.

Everywhere.

It is hot. Or at least, I think it is hot.

I can’t remember.

But I want…to remember.