Note from Beta-Reader, 'XStrawberryDuckFeathersX' who edited spelling and grammar: any grammatical errors or spelling errors in this piece are my fault and not the fault of MemoriesOfTheFlame. Should you be angry about any mistakes made, please direct your comments at me and not her. Thanks! Enjoy her story!

Chapter 1-Memories.

"What is a memory?" I asked myself for the umpteenth time. "Why are they so important?" And, most importantly…

Why don't people realise just how important they are?

'Normal' people go about their daily lives not even giving a second thought to the questions I constantly find myself pondering about. Why is it that we forget things? Why do people remember? I couldn't come up with an answer for those questions. Sadly, not getting the answers to the puzzles I strived to solve only made me wonder even more.

Do memories affect the person to whom they belong? Are memories what define who you are? Are they what shape a human being?

I know I won't be able to find the answers to my questions anytime soon. The one that worries me the most is this:

If you lose your memories, are you still who you used to be?

Why do I even think about this? It won't help me in any way. After all, asking questions doesn't solve problems. It just creates more of them. Pondering won't fix what has already been broken. It's useless asking myself these things; it just wastes time. But, no matter what I do, I always get lost in my thoughts, thinking about memories and their importance in life. It's an endless loop of thought. I find myself thinking like that daily.

Why can I not just get on with life, you ask?

It's probably because of what happened. I'm scared. Scared that I'm no longer who I used to be. Worried that I'll never remember my past. Then, these worries make me angry that I feel so sorry for myself sometimes.

If you haven't guessed it by now, then I may as well tell you.

I have lost my memories. They're gone. Erased. Both the good and the bad are buried deep in the unreachable corners of my mind. No matter how hard I try, I can never remember anything of any importance. Not even a name. Well, actually…I do remember one. I don't know who it belongs to, but I know for a fact that it isn't mine. I never dwelled on it. I need to find out more about myself before I can be concerned about others. When I think back, I can't remember anything. The only thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed.