《The Memory Caller》


 Prologue

    On my mother¡¯s deathbed, she told me something very important. Something that would change my life forever.


    ¡°Anna,¡± she said, ¡°I have been the Memory Caller for the past lifetime. Now it¡¯s your time.¡±


    Then she grabbed my temples and pulled my forehead to hers. My auburn hair hung down, mixing with her brown and gray hair.


    Immediately I was pounded with a heavy group of images- no, memories. I groaned as they all searched to find a place with my own.


    Something was off about the memories. ¡°These aren¡¯t mine.¡± I whispered.


    Mom weakly shook her head and burst into a fit of coughing. Once it had settled, she replied, ¡°No, their mine.¡±


    One memory visualized replacing my sight. I- as my mother- sat on a bed not unlike the one I had been at seconds ago. Replacing my mother was an old man.


    ¡°Elise, this is hard on me. I¡¯ve loved this responsibility since it became my job, but now it will pass onto you.¡±


    ¡°What will pass onto me Father?¡± I heard my mother¡¯s voice say.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    A wry smile appeared on his cracking lips. ¡°You will be the next Memory Caller. Oh, there¡¯s so much I want to tell you about it, but we don¡¯t have the time, and I was swore to secrecy- None of this can ever be said aloud, do you understand me?¡±


    Mother shook her head. ¡°No, I have no idea what¡¯s going on-¡±


    My grandfather sighed. ¡°Come here Elise.¡±


    While my mother was dying from a sickness, my grandfather had died of old age, signs showing through his ancient body. Grandfather¡¯s bony hands reached for my head, and he pressed his forehead to mine.


    The sequence would¡¯ve kept repeating, if not for my mother tightly gripping my arm and shaking me of my stumor.


    ¡°Those are called rebound memories. They come from the previous memory keeper and are the most dangerous memory because unless someone is there with you to wake you up you may be trapped in the memories forever.¡±


    Mother gasped sharply. ¡°It¡¯s coming.¡±


    ¡°Mama, please don¡¯t leave me¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do¡­¡± I sobbed.


    A peaceful look replaced the pained one on her face. She squeezed my hand. ¡°Just listen to the memories Anna. Just listen.¡±


    Mother¡¯s eyes glazed over. ¡°I love you¡­ listen.¡± She breathed.


    She was gone.

 Chapter 1- Mark

    A week had passed since her death. There was a lovely funeral. But now I stood in front of the building she had worked all her life, not prepared in the least bit for what I was going to have to do.


    The building was a shack. A tiny, falling apart, wooden shack.


    I knew my mother worked, but had no idea what she did, where she worked. I hadn¡¯t had any clue what it looked like, and frankly, the shack was very disappointing.


    The old tree beside the shack discarded leaves that made a satisfying crunch beneath my feet. The autumn wind blew in my face, carrying sweet hints of winter.


    I placed a hand on the door''s metal handle only to find it heavy with rust. If I was going to work here, work needed to be done.


    What exactly was I going to do here? How did I find this place? The only answers existed in mother¡¯s memories, and after my last adventure in one of them I was frightened to try it again.


    I gathered up the courage to push open the door and it opened with a shriek revealing a room much larger than I had expected.


    The room was about as large as a hotel lobby, and while it looked from the outside like it was hideous, it was a masterpiece on the inside.


    Luxurious sofas sat on lush carpet around a small coffee table near the door. Paintings hung on the light blue walls. Near the back a counter, an oven and microwave made a little kitchen area. And half of the room was dominated by two large, cozy beds.


    A memory clouded my vision. I stood in the very same place, but the room was all empty except for the two beds. My grandfather¡¯s voice boomed out. ¡°Well, miss, would you like to take a seat on the bed? Then we can get started.¡±


    Grandfather took a seat on the bed himself, and with a polite ask of consent, he gripped the lady¡¯s temples and met her forehead with his own.


    The moment they met contact, both people fell back, like there was an explosion of some sort. In grandfather¡¯s mind, all of the lady¡¯s memories joined his own. With a start, I realized he had taken all of her memories- and he was looking for the hidden ones. The memories that have a certain shroud or veil to them.


    Then the memory stopped abruptly. My vision returned slowly, and I found myself face to face with a man who was gripping my forearm tightly.


    I jumped back and yelled. ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    The man fell backwards onto one of the beds, chuckling. ¡°Elise would¡¯ve laughed when I did that.¡± At the sound of my mother¡¯s name, both the man and I looked away.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    The man muttered an apology, but I ignored it. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    ¡°Elise didn¡¯t tell you about me?¡±


    ¡°No. She didn¡¯t tell me anything it seems.¡±


    ¡°Well, the name is Mark Grantel. Last year I lost some memories in an accident, and I came here. Course, I had no job, no money to pay for it, so your mom, being the lifesaver she is, offered me a job.¡± Mark lounged on the bed, arms behind his head and legs crossed. ¡°She paid me a fourth of all the income, and though it doesn''t sound like much it¡¯s a lot to me.¡±


    I noticed the tense he used when he said paid, and my stomach knotted angrily.


    I shook my head.¡°Well, how did you know how to stop the-¡±


    ¡°Flashback? Your mom used to have three to four every week so it just came as a natural response.¡±


    ¡°Were you here before I went under?¡±


    ¡°Oh no. I walked in, saw you frozen and immediately woke you up. Those flashbacks are nothing but trouble. I guess you might learn how to do all the memory calling from them, but more often than not they¡¯re really dangerous.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what my mom warned me¡­ before¡­ you know.¡±


    Mark grunted then sat up abruptly. ¡°I¡¯m bored. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°Go where?¡±


    Mark laughed quietly. ¡°She really didn¡¯t tell you anything did she?¡± Mark motioned to a door I hadn¡¯t seen before behind one of the sofas. It was small, only about four feet tall, but had a sturdy lock. ¡°Right behind that door is an¡­ activity. It''s different every day but it''s always fun. Like last week, your mom and I went skydiving.¡± A smug look settled on his face.


    ¡°Wow¡­ I never imagined my mother being the adventurous type.¡±


    Mark grunted, but walked to the door, and knocked a careful pattern on the wood. With a click, the lock unbolted and the door smoothly opened. Mark crouched down and crawled through. Everything in front of his was pitch black, and as soon as he crawled through he was gone as well.


    For a few seconds I contemplated running, once Mark began laughing again I gritted my teeth and leaned under the door.


    The dark only lasted a split second before everything exploded with color. Not much color really, just gray stone, but it was much brighter than the darkness. Mark sat on the ground, smirking.


    I rubbed my eyes, hoping it would ward off the unavoidable headache. ¡°What is this room for anyway?¡±


    Mark¡¯s smirk faltered and he looked away. ¡°Well, the memory calling can be really painful, so this was added as a stress reliever.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean painful?¡± I asked, but Mark was already sliding ahead. His gasp of delight echoed through the tunnel. ¡°Looks like we¡¯re going paddleboarding!¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°Umm- this is crazy- how about we start with something simpler?¡±


    Mark sighed and crawled back to me. ¡°Looks like your gonna get your wish.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve got your first client.¡±

 Chapter 2- Look Alike

    The breaths came in and out quickly. ¡°First client? What do you mean first client? I don¡¯t know what to do, I don¡¯t know how to do this-¡±


    Mark gripped my shoulders tightly. ¡°This will come naturally to you, I promise. I¡¯ve watched it a thousand and one times, and talked to Elise about it even more times. Just press your forehead to theirs, and the rest will come on its own.¡±


    ¡°How?¡± I whispered.


    Mark, laughing, shook his head and shrugged. ¡°You think I know how these things work?¡±


    I took a deep breath and gulped. ¡°I wish you did.¡±


    Mark nodded. ¡°Me too.¡± He grabbed my hand lightly. ¡°Come on. We can¡¯t keep her waiting.¡±


    All my fear melted awas as I crawled out of the tunnel and saw who I¡¯d be helping.


    A small toddler, holding her mother¡¯s hand looked up at me with wide eyes.


    The mother wiped frantically at her tearstained face and began. ¡°She fell a few days ago and can¡¯t remember anything. The doctor says you can fix her and make the memories come back.¡±


    ¡°Yes ma¡¯am. And if you just hand over Lindsey we can get started.¡± I replied. My sentence was followed by multiple gasps, including one of my own. I took a step back. How had I known the girl¡¯s name? Mark and the mother were just as shocked.


    I grabbed Mark¡¯s arm. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, will you excuse us for a moment?¡± I didn¡¯t even wait to see if she nodded before I ran to the back corner of the room, Mark in tow.


    ¡°Please tell me my mother used to do that.¡± I gasped.


    Mark shook his head wildly. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯m just as shocked as you are by everything, I don¡¯t know how you knew her name¡­ I really do want to help but¡­¡±


    I buried my head in my hands. ¡°I don¡¯t want to do this.¡±


    Mark took a deep breath and pulled my hands away from my face. ¡°You have to. It¡¯s your job.¡± This time, Mark grabbed my arm and pulled me back over to Lindsey and her mother.


    The mom was still shocked, but handed over Lindsey without hesitation. I carried her over to a bed and sat her down.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°Hi Lindsey,¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯m gonna help you, okay?¡±


    The girl smiled and nodded. Inhanling, I pressed my forehead to hers.


    I knew what Mark meant when he said the calling was painful. Each memory that joined my million memories hit my mind hard then burrowed down. It was sharp and cold, like a knife or a tick. There was so much confusion¡­ which were my memories, which were hers, how could I tell?


    Unlike the flashback¡¯s, there was no certain memory playing. I couldn¡¯t see through my eyes, but I saw into my mind, each memory like a page of a book spilling open. Then I saw something I hadn¡¯t noticed before. All the recollections had a certain¡­ color to them. A few had a nice ivory, but most of them were a dark blue. Mine. Other¡¯s had red, and orange and even one had gold.


    It wasn¡¯t hard to find Lindsey¡¯s color. The ivory recalls gave off a pure and sweet mist. Perfect for an innocent little girl. More than perfect. The color was her.


    All of the memories had a slightly gray curtain to them, save two. Out of curiosity, I watched the unshrouded ones.


    The first one started with pain, so much pain. Different than the cold stabbing feel, this pain was completely physical and hurt so bad. Vaguely I could feel my body thrashing and screaming. Only I could feel anyone else¡¯s pain.


    Finally it settled with a peaceful feeling. There was nothing. Lindsey¡¯s eyes opened to look straight into the concerned yet comforting eyes of a stranger.


    I wanted to stop, just finish the job but the second echo dragged me in. Lindsey now held her mother¡¯s hand, and walked into a small, ugly shack. My small, ugly shack.


    A tall woman and a tall blonde man walked over towards me- Lindsey. It was so easy to feel like it was  your memory when watching a memory.


    With a start, I realized the people were myself and Mark. We muttered a few words to Lindsey¡¯s mother, and then everyone looked shocked at the same time. Only a moment later I sat on the bed with Lindsey, and everything ended in black.


    Before I could get sucked into any more of them, I shoved the curtain away from the closest ivory memory and continued until there were no hidden recollections left.


    Oddly, once all the shrouded memories were fixed, the memories disappeared, leaving only a faint wisp to show they¡¯d been there.


    I opened my eyes and sat up. Lindsey¡¯s mother picked her up, shoved some money at me and walked out the door.


    ¡°That was weird,¡± I muttered.


    Mark had an odd look on his face and his mouth blabbed silently.


    ¡°What is it?¡± I asked.


    Mark gulped. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta come here.¡±


    Mark led me to a mirror and I screamed.


    I¡¯d never dyed my hair another color. It had always just been red, and yet, my hair was growing at an incredible rate, coming in brown at the roots. My light blue eyes had changed color too, settling at a bright green. Not only that, but my face had a babyish look to it. I looked like Lindsey.


    ¡°What is happening to me?!¡±


    Mark pursed his lips. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but we are going to find out.¡±