Rememory (A sequel to Remember)

I live in a world, where only I exist. Time is nonexistent. No one else is here. Only me and a vast area of land. I think I am alone. Oh wait. There is an old lady. She seems to have bad eyesight, bad hearing, and walks with a limp in her right foot. Her hair is thin, and pale. I don’t like her. Not one bit. But maybe I should give her a chance.

Every day, she follows me around. It is annoying. Irritating. I wish she would go away. But I don’t ignore her. I try to be nice to her, and try to listen, but I really don’t understand the old lady. 

Days go by. The old lady keeps following me. I want to yell at her, glare at her, try to make her retreat. But I don’t. 

She seems to give up, and doesn’t follow me around as much. And that’s when I start to lose my hearing. Perhaps it is because she has ceased to make any sound, and there is nothing else to form sound around here. Maybe my ears are out of practice. I try to hum a bit, but for some reason, my voice sounds a bit hoarse. Weird. 

I am trying to make noise. Anything, to help my ears get better. I stomp on the ground. I keep stomping. Harder, HARDER. Thud. A hand lands on my shoulder. I turn around, and there, the old lady stands. Except she looks different. Her hair is less pale and thin, and she looks younger. The woman says something, but I don’t understand it. She speaks, a little louder, “Don’t stomp on the ground- you’ll injure yourself.” I nod. I stop stomping. And, besides, I had only wanted to make some noise, but now she did the job for me. I smile at her, and thank her. We walk back home together. 

We become fast friends. She gets younger and younger, and her memory gets worse. I get older and older, and my eyes start to go blind. We help each other, comfort each other. But one day, we part. And until too late do I realize that was a bad mistake. I must go search for her.

I search for days and days. Nothing. I go back to my home, and there, sitting on the ground, is me. I can tell, even though my eyesight has gotten worse. All of a sudden, I realize something. I hadn’t treated the old lady kindly enough, and this is the consequence. I must go tell her, must go tell her to not take the same path as I did in the beginning. I go up to her. She looks at me. I try to talk, but it sounds inhuman. She stares at me, and gets up. She tells me something. I don’t understand. She shrugs.

Every day, I follow her, try to warn her to stop, to not do what I had done. She listens to me, but I don’t think she understands me. She doesn’t try to understand me. Is she doing what I had done? 

I keep following her, each day. I see her now. She is very far away from me. This seems crazy to me. How can I see so far? I look around. Everything’s a bit clearer. I laugh. I can hear too! Just a bit better, but it’s an improvement. This means that she must be getting worse. I go visit her, and find that she is stomping her foot. I know what I am supposed to do. I go and put a hand on her shoulder. She turns towards me, and at first she can’t hear what I say, but when I say it a bit louder, she understands. I walk back with her to her home, and over the next few days, we become friends. I watch as she gets older, comfort her when her eyesight becomes bad. She is there as I get younger, as my memory gets worse, but one day we part. I must go back to my home to rest, and she must go rest too. I go to bed, and then fall asleep.

I live in a world, where only I exist. Time is nonexistent. No one else is here. Only me and a vast area of land. I think I am alone. Oh wait. There is an old lady. She seems to have bad eyesight, bad hearing, and walks with a limp in her right foot. Her hair is thin, and pale. I don’t like her. Not one bit. But maybe I should give her a chance.

Every day, she follows me around. It is annoying. Irritating. I wish she would go away. But I don’t ignore her. I try to be nice to her, and try to listen, but I really don’t understand the old lady. 

Days go by. The old lady keeps following me. I want to yell at her, glare at her, try to make her retreat. But I don’t. 

She seems to give up, and doesn’t follow me around as much. And that’s when I start to lose my hearing. Perhaps it is because she has ceased to make any sound, and there is nothing else to form sound around here. Maybe my ears are out of practice. I try to hum a bit, but for some reason, my voice sounds a bit hoarse. Weird.

I am trying to make noise. Anything, to help my ears get better. I stomp on the ground. I keep stomping. Harder, HARDER. Thud. A hand lands on my shoulder. I turn around, and there, the old lady stands. Except she looks different. Her hair is less pale and thin, and she looks younger. The woman says something, but I don’t understand it. She speaks, a little louder, “Don’t stomp on the ground- you’ll injure yourself.” I nod. I stop stomping. And, besides, I had only wanted to make some noise, but now she did the job for me. I smile at her, and thank her. We walk back home together. 

We become fast friends. She gets younger and younger, and her memory gets worse. I get older and older, and my eyes start to go blind. We help each other, comfort each other. We are about to part today. But, something holds me back. Why do we have to part? Life is so much better with her. I convince her to stay. 

One night, she begs me to stay with her. She says she’s having trouble remembering again. She tells me that she might not remember anything the next day. I hold her hand as she drifts off to sleep, and beg for a miracle to happen. Finally, I drift off to sleep too.

I wake up. She doesn’t remember anything. She looks at me, confused. She asks me something, but I can’t hear. I try to explain to her what had happened. She waves it off. She gestures to the ground. She scribbles some words in it. I shake my head. I can’t see clearly. I point to my eyes, then make an x with my fingers. She nods. 

Each day, she takes care of me, and I get better. She gets worse. I do not know why. At first, I thought it was a consequence, but no. She has done nothing wrong. All I can hope is that she will get better someday. She gets older. But she seems to see and hear perfectly fine. I am getting younger. But my memory is still fading. I panic. What if I forget entirely, and we’ll have to restart? I am getting close to forgetting everything. I just know that my memory will fail me tomorrow. I beg for the old woman to stay. She stays. She is holding my hand as I drift off to sleep.

I wake up. And I remember.