Anamnesis

There are some things better left forgotten. 

Those bloodsoaked, tear stained memories buried deep within. 

Yet the words that bring them to the surface are simple:

Love. 

Family. 

Friends. 

They are incessant prods, digging into a momentarily forgotten past. 

"Do you remember?" 

The words seem to carve into the soul itself. Fear dances along the skin, and terror sinks into every pore.

Do you remember? Or have those memories been buried so deep that nothing remains? Well, not nothing. Never nothing. 

Horror pools in the pit of the stomach, and the room spins. Blood has never been so loud as it swallows every noise, devours all sound, and the logic that once ruled is chased away by that wretched dizziness. 

Do you want to remember? 

Every breath comes quicker than the last. Or slower. Or not at all. Breathing is difficult to focus on when the echo of screams pound against the skull. 

Who do they belong to? It's impossible to tell. Any answers have long been forgotten, but the questions won't follow. 

Breathe.

In and out. 

In and out.

Let the darkness eating the edges of the world momentarily devour everything. Let the tide rise up, through every muscle and bone. Let it carve out every memory until nothing remains.

Bad. 

Good.

Because it isn't the bad memories that do the real damage. It's the good ones.

Every touch. Every laugh. Every smile.

Every expectation that accompanies trust.

Let the darkness consume them and drag them into the endless void within until nothing remains. 

There are some things better left forgotten. 

This is one of them.