時とともに失われた記憶

Chapter 4: Try to forget her.

"Another day, another migraine," I mutter as the wind brushes against my clammy, sweaty skin. I blink a few times, realizing I fell asleep right in the middle of the forest. My body feels stiff as I sit up and grab my old, smelly bag. The stench is awful, but I've gotten used to it by now. With a sigh, I stand up and start walking down the dirt path. The only food I have is a bag of expired chips, so I pull them out. They taste terrible, like salty cardboard, but I'm too hungry to care.As I keep walking, I hear something—sniffling, like someone crying. The sound is soft but impossible to ignore. My heart starts to race as I move closer, step by step, trying to figure out where it's coming from. Suddenly, the sniffling stops, and then I hear it—faint, but clear: "Why can't I just forget her?"I freeze for a moment, confused. Who is this person talking about? Without thinking, I rush over to a nearby tree and crouch down behind it. My backpack feels heavy on my shoulders, so I take it off and, hesitating for just a second, pass it behind the tree. I hear the rustling of someone picking it up. Whoever it is stands up, and I catch a glimpse of them. There's something about them that feels... familiar. Too familiar.I squint, trying to place them, but my memory's fuzzy. No matter how hard I try, I can't recognize who they are. I watch as they walk away, their steps slow and hesitant. But then, they turn and look back at me. Their eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, it's like they recognize me too. My heart pounds as I wonder who this person could be.Then I hear a voice—a voice I know too well. "Could it actually be... you?" It hits me like a punch to the chest. They know me. This person knows who I am. Suddenly, memories I'd forgotten—or maybe tried to forget—come flooding back. I had a life before all of this, before the forest, before the loneliness. I had a life, and this person might just be the key to getting it back.Maybe, just maybe, there's been a reason for all of this. A reason I'm still here. A reason I've survived.And now, I need to figure out what that reason is.