A Desolate Memory

  What is time, but a series of events to unfold, rewind, slow down, speed up or divide? If it can be measured what is its weight; if infinite then nothing. To businessmen, time is money, to the philosopher a river; and in life of humankind, brief; but moments last forever.

It’s true that humankind has advanced thoroughly over the last brief moments of its existence; and many ponder if there was something or someone before them. Many texts suggest and speak of entities much greater than, in all aspects, to this race. Whether they be Gods, Aliens, Beasts or Machines. Each with superior intellect. So, enlightenment, spirituality, science, or alchemy in some cultures. All in search for what was before them.

Memories and Dreams fade and pass over time; but if time is endless, infinite, recycled; then they are also recoverable, though easily manipulated.

“My memories, and my dreams, betray me as I try to discover my path. One such memory is indefinitely engraving in my soul, or souls if there be such others within me or by my side”

“Do you recall such a memory or is your mind lingering with other thoughts?' distantly a voice pesters.

“Of course, how can something as dreadful as that slip my mind?” He replies

“You remember nothing... that is how this began, but let us both hope it doesn't end the same way due to your lack of competence.” The voice etched sternly

"Yes. Nothing is how it began, those years so bleak to me. Months like hours and weeks like seconds. I had writer's block again; and I sat numbly, staring deeply into an empty dissipating and reappearing spacebar through my window into another world, as my body ran cold from what was provided to me."
<internal monologe> 
'Perhaps I shall submit my story - but from “her” perspective, just this once.'

I continue leer intently as my mind reaches deep for a scrap of what once was, and my fingers quicken as I filter any distraction that may delay the inevitable.

    The black rose, symbolic of the passing of someone, fading red tips as it hangs upside down gently tied to a string. Striving to last until each bit of essence gradually sinks away, stiffening into preserved perfection. Frail, but not weak, tainted with darkness, but impure. How many did it take to grow, just to be plucked for such an endless existence, preserved with the strangest fluids surrounding it, entombed in a way, though forever remembered.

Her hair was the same color, dark umber red tips among a velvet black. Her body appearing frail but her spirit strong, she walked with confidence as she arrived. Old friends welcomed her, strangers invited her, so happy, commonly found with a smile shining on her face, and a laugh that sounded like a songbird in spring, but not that annoying kind, you know?

<Derricks memory>

I caught a glimpse of her once during lunch and I wanted to meet her. I didn't know her name, and I had never thought to ask… this thought bounced around my head as I returned to the classroom taking my seat in the back near the teacher desk for questions, but far enough from everyone else that I wouldn't have to be noticed as a failure if such was the case.

<Delorus' memory>

I walked into the classroom, eagerly awaiting an encounter with him. I think he is a good person, that's what I heard from the gossipy class I had been in previously. He is younger than me by two years, but I think I will give him a chance. A few nights ago I was planning a date with my boyfriend, but he skipped out on it, so I'm gonna see if he wants to come along. I just need the right moment to see...

<Derricks memory>

I get nudged, someone in front of me, their face a blur to me as I am spaced out. They gesture at me with a folded-up bit of scrap paper. Written on it 'do you want to go to the movies with me on Saturday?'. Wide eyed I stare blankly at the paper, looking around with my head down a bit wondering if the teacher had noticed this happening. I turn the paper over, and her name is written on the back, where I hadn't seen just yet, but it was done in almost a calligraphy style but with multi-colored pens.

What should I write? Yes? What if I can’t go... I shake my head to myself, come on... a girl is asking you to go somewhere with her, you have to say ‘yes’… 'I would like to, I just need to ask my parents first'

<present>

“So, this is where you think your nothingness began?” the voice distantly chuckling

“That's the first actual memory I was able to retain, yes.” he sneered back

“what about the dream......”

“I'm getting there…” he retorted