Memories of a Forgotten Past: Remember

A single lamp sits on a desk, where Theia sits with a shut computer. Three pieces of paper sit where the computer would usually be. She holds a pencil in her hand sketching careful lines on a single piece of paper. She hums a sweet tune, while her feet are crossed under a chair.

A single lamp sits on a desk, where Theia sits with a shut computer. Three pieces of paper sit where the computer would usually be. She holds a pencil in her hand sketching careful lines on a single piece of paper. She hums a sweet tune, while her feet are crossed under a chair. A mark of engagement shows on her face, not wanting to be disturbed. She bobs her head back and forth as if she were listening to a song.

An orb of blue shines behind Theia, entering in the room through the door. It moves around in circles, trying to get her attention. It slowly changes into a gold color. It grows brighter, turning into a figure made of light. The light fades, sliding off of the being like silk. It places a hand on her shoulder.

Theia turns her head. Eyes a color in between gold and silver meet her gaze, along with a chiseled face. She recognized masculinity.

Who is this man?

She stands up, taking the entirety of him into her eyes.

The man wears a long white robe. A necklace made of spirals surrounds his neck, like a choker. He holds up his hand and nods; his fingers crossed.

“Don’t forget,” he whispers, his mouth remains shut, even when he speaks. “Remember who you are.”

He uncrosses two fingers and places them on her brow, illuminating a hidden third eye. It glows in a mixture of white and blues, lighting up her room. Many colors reflect off of the walls and Theia closes her eyes. He pulls his hand back and the light from Theia’s forehead fades.

Six spiraling pillars meet her gaze, along with purple skies. Stars far-away meet her sight. She opens her eyes and the vision disappears. Slowly turns her head around to meet the man’s gaze, her vision lands on the walls beside him.

Strange… his light doesn’t reflect off of the walls, but mine did.

She places a hand on her brow. The tips of her fingers barely managed to touch the skin of her forehead. His silvery gold eyes lock onto her.

“Who are you?!”

“I am Raffaele, your guardian. Do you not remember me?”

She shakes her head, “No.”

He lifts up another hand and presses it against her forehead. She shoves his hand and backs away, “You done more than enough. I’d rather not remember where I came from.”

“You have no choice, you have to. The rules are rules, now give me your forehead!”

She sighs and steps forward towards Raffaele. He lifts up a hand and presses it against her forehead.

It shimmers a blue light, forcing Theia to lay down on her floor. Brown carpet welcomes her, as if it is…  another bed.

Theia peels herself off of the ground and rubs her eyes. She comes to face with Raffaele’s feet.

He’s still here. Why isn’t he gone by now? Still, that dream was strange, yet real at the same time. For once I felt as if I had a home beyond a home… Three stars… Purple sky… strange spiral thingies?

Theia pushed herself off of the ground with both hands and ran fingers through her thick blonde hair. She moseys her way towards a blue bed when Raffaele lifts up and arm to stop her.

“Did you remember?” he says.

Theia nodded, “And I hated it.” she lies.

“Did you see anything? What did you see besides the odd color of the sky?”

“I saw a woman with wavy hair as white as snow. She wore a purple robe and had something like a headdress on her brow. I couldn’t see anything but her back as she was standing in front of the spiral things.”

“Well anything besides that?”

“Umm… let me think… the spiral things kinda turned her into light, and then she vanished… I need to get back to drawing. My friend really needs to use that picture for her animations.”

Theia turns her back towards Raffaele and pulls the desk chair towards her. She sits down, but the chair vanishes and she falls down on her body, nearly hitting her head on the wooden surface of her desk, “Is this something really important, Raffaele?”

Raffaele nods, “I will give your chair back after you answer one more question.”

“What is it?”

“Are you ready?”

Theia nods, “Ready for what?”

A scroll materializes in his hand and Theia is quick to swipe it away. She opens it, unlocking the latch. It read in bold loopy letters on one page: How to be a proper guardian angel.

“Sorry, wrong one… That’s the one I read when I use the laundromat. Let me go get you the correct one. ” he plucks the scroll out of her hand, and Theia’s face turned red from trying to contain too much laughter.

She shakes her head and lets out a small chuckle. She falls to the floor laughing, kicking her feet up and down, sometimes rolling on her back. Raffaele, however did not react, he simply lends a hand, “Are you done… with… uh… laughing?”

Theia stops laughing, “Oh, I’m sorry,” she takes his hand, pulling herself up off of the ground.

“It’s ok… we all have to laugh sometimes… Did you submit an article?”

Total confusion crawls on Theia’s faze, glazing her eyes over, “What article?”

“It was stated in the scroll. You are supposed to submit an article to an online magazine.”

Theia’s hands find their way to her laptop and pry it open with both hands. She sits down on the ground and Raffaele makes a place right next to her, “Oh, and it has to be to specific magazine… PsyCircle… that one.”

Raffaele points his fingers.

Theia types in PsyCircle on her laptop. A thousand results pop up.

PsyCircle… PsyCircle… PsyCircle… PsyCircle….

The PsyCircle official site reaches her eye… A trademark sign follows after it, proving that is official.

“The site get a lot of criticism, but at least they give true psychic information.

Not popular, but it as least formidable.

“I don’t believe in psychics, they are not real.”

“Oh… but they are real. Go on, send them a contact request stating that you would want to write an article for them. But.. It has to be about something specific. Tell them about your dream and go into as much detail as possible-”

“That’s stupid. I’m not doing it… Plus I’m horrible at writing. They won’t accept it.”

“…The scroll states that you have to… I will do it for you if you don’t want to.”

“Fine… Just try to not use my name.”


His fingers fly across the keyboard, about as fast as light could travel and then he sends the email to them. Theia could barely see the letters before he could send it.

“Oh, crap surveys.”

He clicks on the pad, filling out the survey.

Feet find their way onto soft carpet.

A knock, then another knock. Who could it possibly be

The sound of ringing.

Theia makes her way down the stairs and then to the door. What she sees is beyond comprehensible.



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KE Blackham

K.E Blackham likes to write Fantasy and Science fiction stories; Is an avid book reader, likes to draw and paint, and loves coffee. She also has a love for all things paranormal and ufo related.
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