Wrong Memories

I Was in my bed thinking about how do simple objects work, a door lock, a camera, a microwave, a CD, a memory card… And then i realized that most of the people (including me) uses these objects and they doesn’t know how do they work. Something came to my head; “what does Memory exactly mean?”. I wasn’t interested in searching the meaning, I wanted to give “Memory” a personal meaning. I wanted to ask my mom what does Memory mean for her but she wasn’t home. Later, I realized that I was alone in my house, my mother probably was in the supermarket and my father was working. I had no idea why the neighbors were screaming, maybe they founded a spider or something like that, I don’t know.

Next morning I was really tired, I waked up like at 8 am and my whole body was aching. I was worried about my mom, she wasn’t home again. my dad usually leaves notes before going work but now, I think he forgot. Something was worrying me, it wasn’t the rotten flesh smell, it was like someone was watching me, later i felt sounds in the attic. I was to scared to investigate, so I decided to call the neighbors for help. It was useless with the door of my house jammed. I ran to my room searching for something that I could use to defend myself, I found a camera, and his respective memory card, my computer and a old CD, nothing useful. However the sounds stopped some minutes later. I tried to broke a Window with my fist, wanting to ask for help, but i just achieved a broken wrist. I was starving and my fridge was empty, the only edible thing left was some rotten pasta in the microwave. Thirsty, starving, tired and hurt, i walked to the kitchen really worried about the sounds in the attic, then I found a knife with blood on it, instantly the sounds started again, but they were different, now they were much more quiet, i started moving to the attic stairs, the sounds accelerated, i walked upstairs but before I opened the door, the neighbors came to outside the house asking for something that I couldn’t hear, I didn’t stop myself and then i opened the attic door with the knife in my useful hand, then, i just walked forwards, into the darkness of the attic, i could touch my mom in my left and my dad in my right, later, a crying little girl punched me in my testicles and ran to the stairs, when she was at the sun light, I could see her mouth and teeth covered in blood.

When I recovered from the punch, i turned on the lights of the attic and I could see my parents dead in the floor, their rotten bodies had injuries with teeth marks. The girl was trying to open the main door but she couldn’t obviously, i threw the knife to the girl and she fell, i could recognize the face of the girl, she was the  neighbors daughter. Later, I cut a bunch of meat from her and ate it, i didn’t know why i did it, all of this, kill my parents and kidnap the neighbors daughter… or just I don’t remember it?. I know the meaning of memory, or at least I knew it sometime.

  • Hannah

    The concept of this story was good but there are many grammatical errors through the whole story such as using present instead of past and so on. I can tell you’re mother tung is not English and I don’t judge you for that but the grammar kind of takes you away from the story. I would suggest you get a friend that speaks fluent English to proof read it and fix the mistakes. Overall I think this could be something pretty good.

  • Rose Morrison

    Agreed, a good premise but almost unreadable. Definitely use someone to edit your pieces whose mother tongue is English, if you are going to write in English. With development, could be very good.