Did you know that you can never forget a face? Every single face you see gets filed away in some massive compartment at the back of your mind, just tucked away, waiting for you to see it again and again. To put a name to it; a personality. All the hundreds of thousands of faces you've seen throughout your life.
The human brain cannot come up with a face by itself and inventing one is preposterous. Even God had to make a self portrait. An artists impression is a random face recalled from memory. It's in there, somewhere. The people you see in your dreams. Faceless nameless faces that you forget as soon as you open your eyes. All memories.
I know I'm in there too. Simmering and churning at the back of all your minds. I have one of those faces you never think about. Not notable. Not distinct. But I'm in there. I would like to think I'm the face that haunts your dream, turning them into nightmares, turning you into a wimp. And that every time you snap up panting and sweaty in the middle of the night, it's my face that lingers in your mind's eye. This face, the face of someone not worth remembering and yet in the grand scheme of things, worth it all and so much more. My face. The face of Aiden.
YOU ARE READING
AIDEN
General FictionBlood might be thick. Skin is thicker. So are nails, clawing at your eyes in a last-ditch attempt at survival. But steel. Stainless steel sharpened to a razor's edge in my hands can get through even the toughest cartilage. Slice right through a trac...
