Avie sat as she was told, feeling the black leather press against the backs of her thighs. She slid her hands under her legs, providing a barrier between her warm skin and the cold seat. If she was nervous at one point, she no longer was.
The nurse handed her a rectangular tablet, and told her to read it thoroughly and then provide her thumbprint in the box at the bottom of the digital form. She slid her finger across the screen, and it scrolled. A list of bulleted liabilities and legalities flew by, their meaning barely registering in her mind...merely blurred formalities. Avie pressed her thumb to the box and held it until the border flashed green, confirming her authorization. She handed the tablet back to the nurse with what she hoped was a smile, before averting her eyes back to the patterned tile of the clinic floor.
The tile was white and lavender, colors meant to be soothing to the clients of the Memory Erasure Clinic. However, to Avie they only reminded her of why she was there. Lavender hospital walls, the place where she had lost Jule forever, as well as their darling little girl. In one painfully long millisecond, the future had been shattered into pieces, just like the glass windows of their car upon brutal impact, just like 143 miles per hour in the wrong lane.
Avie no longer had this future, so what what she doing with its ghost ? One decision, and her slate would be wiped clean. She would have no recollection of burning headlights and the stranger who got away with it. She would have no recollection of Lilly, and no recollection of Jule. How could she continue to dream of her green eyes and his loving words, if she never knew them in the first place ?
The nurse came back with a syringe of clear fluid and an oxygen mask. She instructed Avie to lay down, and with an almost motherly nature, tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears.
"The formulas are designed to only target parts of the brain that contain the memories you aim to remove," the nurse spoke as she slipped the mask over Avie's face, cupping her nose and mouth. "However, side effects often include some loss of recent memory, as well as nausea and lightheadedness."
Avie nodded solemnly. None of her recent memories were worth keeping anyway; one should not preserve nightmares. The nurse turned Avie’s wrist upward, exposing the tattoo that criss-crossed it. She inserted the needle right above the lyrics of Jule’s favorite song, and plunged the cold fluid into Avie’s veins.
Tears welled as Avie realized she would wake up in a few hours, and only recognize the lyrics as the opening lines of a pleasant melody. The ceiling lights began to swim on their own accord, and her thoughts began to swirl as well. How long had she waited for this procedure ? Weeks had become months, and months had become years. Years that had been spent seeking, questioning, chasing answers that had never come...
...and now they never would, because the questions would soon no longer exist.
The nurse came back with a syringe of clear fluid and an oxygen mask. She instructed Avie to lay down, and with an almost motherly nature, tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ears.
"The formulas are designed to only target parts of the brain that contain the memories you aim to remove," the nurse spoke as she slipped the mask over Avie's face, cupping her nose and mouth. "However, side effects often include some loss of recent memory, as well as nausea and lightheadedness."
Avie nodded solemnly. None of her recent memories were worth keeping anyway; one should not preserve nightmares. The nurse turned Avie’s wrist upward, exposing the tattoo that criss-crossed it. She inserted the needle right above the lyrics of Jule’s favorite song, and plunged the cold fluid into Avie’s veins.
Tears welled as Avie realized she would wake up in a few hours, and only recognize the lyrics as the opening lines of a pleasant melody. The ceiling lights began to swim on their own accord, and her thoughts began to swirl as well. How long had she waited for this procedure ? Weeks had become months, and months had become years. Years that had been spent seeking, questioning, chasing answers that had never come...
...and now they never would, because the questions would soon no longer exist.
[Inspired by "The Truth" by Seven Lions. The only lyrics to this song are the repeated phrase, "getting over you"]
No comments:
Post a Comment