Memories
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This is my diary of memories that I don't want to let go of, and I'm starting it today. Why am I writing these you ask? Because in exactly three months I'm having brain surgery... Not so cool, huh? See, I have a tumor the size of a quarter near the outer edge of my temporal lobe and if it isn't removed soon it will become larger and could damage other nearby parts of the brain. I don't want to forget who I am but the doctors say my mind will be blank and memories will have become a blur or deteriorated altogether if I make it out of surgery. They really know how to scare you around here. Life as I know it is going to be a new book for me to read, a new movie to see. I will be on the outside looking in. My best friends will be strangers, even family... My own mother will be someone my brain doesn't so much as recognize. The only person who knows about this is Momma. Everyone else thinks the headaches and confusion are just a part of me. The truth hurts and I don't want to hurt them. I told them I'm leaving soon. To be really honest, I don't believe I will make it out of the surgery. It's a twenty-five percent chance of living. They're better off not knowing.
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β§ ππππππππ ππππππππ (πππππ) β§ When I was six I was kidnapped and taken away from my family for seven months. Thirteen years later and I have little to no memory of who had taken me. Ever since then my father has been severely overprotective and never lets me out of his sight. Now that I'm somewhat on my own everything starts to change. When I finish high school and start attending New York University my life takes a turn, for better and for worse. They're back. β πππππππππ π πππππππ β Years ago we found our little angel. She just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was the light in our lives, until one day we lost her again. Thirteen years later and we still mourn the loss of our sweetheart, but we found her once, we will do it again. I am the head of the Russian mafia, or a professor at NYU depending who you ask. One day I raise my head to look around at the sea of students and my eyes lock on a familiar pair of ocean blue irises. β ππππππ πππππππ β I'm a heartless killer and offer no apologies for it. As the head of the Russian mafia along with being the CEO to a multibillion dollar company, my life is nothing but darkness. During the day I'm an office man, at night my knife slashes through the necks of anyone I can get my hands on. Killing is my outlet, ever since I lost her. It helps me keep my anger in check. I've never stopped looking for her. We've come close multiple times, but each time came out unsuccessful. As I put a bullet in the head of my ex-guard, Alex comes rushing into the room, and the look on his face says it all. He found her. Start: July 4th End: ///
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