Wanting to Forget

She opened the door to the suburban house that she shared with her husband, her feet slowly shuffling through the threshold. Dropping the keys into the bowl on the small table beside the doorway, she unceremoniously kicked off her heels and threw her coat and purse onto the dining room table. Throwing open the fridge, she scanned her tired eyes through the shelves, searching for something to settle her, growling stomach. Not finding anything appetizing, she took out some yogurt and shut the refrigerator door before grabbing a spoon from the kitchen island drawer.

Then, just as she was about to devour her late-night treat, a noise stopped her from ripping off the plastic seal. Putting the spoon and yogurt down on the counter, she tip-toed her way toward the source of the sound. A male figure wearing a navy blue robe made his way down the stairs one step at a time. A wave of relief washed over her as she realized that the one who created the sound is none other than her husband. She then walked over to him, the two meeting at the bottom of the steps.

“Hey,” she said, a small smile appearing on her face. “Hey yourself,” her husband greeted softly. “When did you get in?” He inquired. “About ten minutes ago, I was going to make myself something to eat but couldn’t find anything.” Her husband gave her a look that most parents give their children when they forget to eat. She scoffed at his glance and said, “Don’t look at me like that! You know perfectly well that sometimes I get quite busy, so missing meals is not a rare occurrence.” The woman then crossed her arms across her chest, emphasizing her point.

Her husband resisted the urge to lecture his wife about the importance of eating three square meals a day given that they both have high-stress jobs. “Just don’t forget next time, alright?” He requested. The woman nodded and let out a heavy sigh. Concerned, her husband asked what was wrong. “It’s this case,” she began, looking into her husband’s chocolate brown eyes, her own azure blue orbs glistening with tears.

“I can’t fathom why anyone would think to harm innocent children. Though from an anthropological standpoint, some cultures often sacrifice young girls and boys to appease their gods.” Wordlessly, her husband wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She returned his embrace and put her face on his chest, a lone tear making its escape.

Minutes passed, and the couple still remained wrapped in each other. The woman then looked up at her husband and breathed out a single request, “Make me forget.” Getting the hint, her husband obliged by locking his lips with hers before taking her upstairs to their bedroom.



It was supposed to be a quick procedure. The doctor would take out a tumour in her brain, and she would be allowed to go home after a few more days of observation. Four days passed since the surgery, and she has yet to come out of her coma. Her husband sat by her bed, her left hand in his. He has barely slept and only went home to shower and change into fresh clothes.

“Please wake up soon,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss on her knuckles. “Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. A nurse then came in to check on things, making sure that the machines are still beeping at a regular rate and that the patient is still sleeping peacefully. She spared the husband sitting by his wife’s hospital bed a sympathetic glance before making her exit to attend to other patients.

Moments after the nurse left the room, the woman on the bed stirred. Her husband gasped, thinking that his prayers have been answered at last. He watched in both relief and amazement as his wife opened her eyes. The happy scene was short-lived when the wife widened her eyes in shock. Confused, the husband asked, “Erin, Honey? What’s wrong? Do you need me to get the nurse?” The wife turned her head toward her husband’s voice, her beautiful face filled with fear. “Joseph?” Erin whispered. “Why is everything so dark?” At this, the FBI agent fell silent as a feeling of dread washed over him. No! This can’t be happening! He thought. It can’t! Taking a breath to calm himself, he forced a smile on his face and placed a comforting hand on his wife’s.

“I’m sure that it’s only temporary. I’ll let the nurse know about this, and maybe the doctor will be able to do something.” The FBI agent then kissed his wife on her temple and drew her into his arms, hoping with all of his soul that the doctor can return his Erin’s vision to her. “I can’t see, Joseph.” The forensic anthropologist mumbled into her husband’s shirt. “I want to see you.” She murmured, clinging onto her partner and soulmate as tears streamed down her cheeks. Joseph didn’t reply. Instead, he held onto his beloved a little tighter, silently promising that she will be able to see again.

The Affair

She knew this would happen. Her female intuition never fails her and yet she allowed her love to blind her. She had forgiven him far too many times. This will be the last.

“If she means more to you than our marriage, then by all means, go to her. Maybe she will make you happy!” She seethed, her eyes puffy with angry tears. Her husband of seven years stared at her, his mouth opened and closed, unable to say a word. He vowed to be there through better or worse and to take care of her the way that a devoted husband and father should. The woman that is wedged between him and his wife is an employee at his office. She had worked for months in Japan, so she is fluent in the language. He often had to go overseas on business, so Asian countries are sometimes on the itinerary.

One night, while he is watching TV in his hotel room, he heard a knock coming from outside his door. Turning the screen off, he got up from the king-sized bed and looked through the peephole. There, standing in a dainty baby pink robe and fuzzy kitten heels, is the female employee. He felt the familiar bodily reaction that males have toward attractive females. Despite the alarm blaring in his brain, as if to yell at him he shouldn’t open the door and that he is a happily married man, he whipped open the door and before he could extend a greeting, the female employee smiled seductively at him and threw herself into his arms, her lips seeking his. Overcome by lust, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his room, closing the door behind him.

The next morning, when he woke up, he was immediately engulfed with a sense of dread and guilt. He had an affair with a woman who’s not his wife. Turning his head, he looked at the peacefully sleeping female next to him, and the guilt multiplied tenfold. How am I going to explain this? He thought, his heart sinking further and further. He’s not religious, but if he was, he is sure that he would go straight to Hell with the Devil personally escorting him to his cell.

Forget Me Not

“Hey, Lucy, have you ever thought of how you want to be remembered?” Asanashia asked while digging into her slice of the most delicious cheesecake she had ever tasted. The former Lightbringer had acquired it from a place called Uncle Tetsu as the owner there owed her a favour. The fluffy baked good melted in the vampiress’s mouth as soon as she took a bite, sending her into a sense of culinary pleasure.

“Well, humans have been vilifying me for millennia as the worlds’ worst influence, why would I give a damn about how I want to be remembered? It’s not like I can die like them.” The Queen of Hell huffed, taking a large gulp of her apple milk tea. Asanashia, albeit taken aback by her friend’s remark, opted not to say anything lest she gets on the Lady of Hell’s angry side. Being an emotionally driven creature herself, she knows how to pick her battles.

The two friends sat in silence as they consumed their respective food items. The cat-eared, Pegasus-winged vampiress then broke that silence and said, “I’d want to be remembered for my contributions to society.” Intrigued, the Devil asked, “Contributions to society? What have you done?” Shocked, Asanashia turned to face the fallen angel. “What have I done? Did you forget the time that I helped you and Detective Stanton solve that case involving that strange cult? I volunteered to go undercover and flush out the killer before things took a turn for the worst.” Lucy blinked owlishly, hypothetical question marks floating around her head.

“YOU went undercover? I seem to recall it was the both of us who had to hide our true identities. Well, you had to, I didn’t since everyone knows me.” The former Princess of Darkness said off-handedly. Asanashia rolled her midnight blue eyes at her friend’s smugness and replied, “Okay, fine, we both had to go undercover, but I was the one who cracked the case wide open.” Lucy scoffed and began to argue that things did not happen the way that the vampiress described. The two friends bickered on till the sun went down, the remembrance debate long forgotten.

Cutting Ties

I planned on doing it. I’ve thought about it for days. To escape from this place, nay, prison, that has been home since that fateful day so many years ago. Leave the ones that gave me everything, so I can finally be free. Free to spread my metaphorical wings and be my most authentic self. I don’t need them, I thought. I can count on my friends to help me. The negativity that I endured has weighed on me for long enough. It’s time to rid myself of it once and for all.

I found a place to stay pretty quickly. I couldn’t believe my luck. With housing prices in the city so high, I thought that I had to stay at a hotel or with friends until I got back on my feet. The basement suite is quite spacious. Reminds me of the basement that my family and I first lived in when we first came to the country. It has a small kitchen complete with a stove and refrigerator which is a bonus because no one likes spoiled food, frozen or otherwise.

After exploring the kitchen and the living room, I ventured further into the house and found my bedroom. It’s not as big as the one I had for years, but it’s pretty decent nevertheless. It would’ve been nice if the window had a large ledge where I can turn it into a reading nook, but beggars can’t be choosers. Setting my suitcases down, I began to unpack everything that I own, putting everything in its proper place in what will be my new residence.

Later that night, as I laid in bed, I heard sounds coming from outside the room. Muffled voices came from the other side, the words unintelligible. Curiosity getting the better of me, I quietly slipped out of bed and tip-toed my way to the door. Gently opening it slightly, I squinted against the bright light and strained my ears trying to make out what was said.

“What are we going to do with her?” One of the voices said in a hushed tone. “We’ll drug her with this, and then we can have our fun.” The second voice said. “I can’t believe that she’s so gullible, accepting our offer to rent this space so quickly.” The first voice continued, a smirk on his face. “Well with the housing market the way that it is, people will get desperate as they look for an affordable place to live or rent.” The second voice concluded, filling a small syringe with a sedative, no doubt to use on me so they can do unspeakable things to me. I stepped away from the door, fear creeping up my spine. I had wanted to cut off all ties and live my own life. Looks like I will never get that chance.