"Some memories are meant to be remembered. Others are meant to be written down "
Memory Archive
XX CONNECTED WELCOME XX
VISTORS:001
The clock hasn't moved.”
ENTRY #000 — [NO DATE]
She knows you're here.
17 · SECOND YEAR · WRITER
Moka Rivers is a quiet, observant girl with a fondness for old things, strange places, and stories that don't always seem to belong to her.
Perhaps because Moka has always been afraid of forgetting.
“Someone keeps leaving the lights on.”
She doesn't remember much of her childhood.
She remembers other people, though.
=
ENTRY #001— 07/07/97
THE GIRL WHO COLLECTED YESTERDAYS
There was once a girl who collected things.
Not pretty things, necessarily.
She collected buttons that had fallen from coats, flowers that had dried between sidewalk cracks, ticket stubs from places she couldn't remember visiting, and little pieces of ribbon she found tangled around tree branches.
Her favorite things to collect were memories.
Of course, you can't really collect memories.
At least, that's what her mother told her.
“There was a name written on the desk. It was mine.”
So the girl collected stories instead.
Every night, she would sit beside her bedroom window and write down something she remembered from that day.
Monday: It rained.
Tuesday: A woman dropped her umbrella.
Wednesday: There was a bird sitting on the fence.
She liked keeping everything in order.
Then, one morning, she found a page in her notebook that she didn't remember writing.
Thursday: I met a girl outside my window.
The girl frowned.
She checked the date.
Thursday hadn't happened yet.
She tore the page out.
The next morning, there was another.
Friday: She was wearing a blue coat.
The girl threw that page away too.
On Saturday:
Saturday: She asked me why I stopped writing about her.
The girl stopped sleeping beside the window.
For several days, nothing happened.
Eventually, she decided she had imagined everything.
She opened her notebook again.
There was one final page.
Sunday: You forgot me.
The girl stared at it for a long time.
Then she turned the page.
There was another sentence underneath.
Written in the same handwriting.
Sunday: That's okay.
I remember you.
She closed the notebook.
She never wrote about the girl again.
Years later, when she was much older, she found the notebook in a box beneath her bed.
Most of the pages were blank.
The dates were wrong.
And the final page was missing.
She assumed she'd thrown it away.
Until she noticed something written on the inside cover.
Something she had never seen before.
A name.
Her own.
Underneath it was a date.
Tomorrow's date.
Author's note — age unknown
I don't remember writing this.
I don't remember having a blue dress.
Correction:
“I should stop writing things down.”
“I don't think I can.”
I don't own a blue coat.
There is a blue coat in my closet
ENTRY #000 — [NO DATE]
SYSTEM STATUS: RESTARTED
Previous records unavailable.
Records recovered: 0
Entry #001 — Before I Knew
THINGS MOKA DOESN'T REMEMBER
01. A summer she apparently spent somewhere else.
02. Why one of her childhood notebooks contains a name she doesn't recognize.
03. Who taught her to press flowers.
04. The first time she saw the school.
05. Why some of her stories end with “she'll remember eventually.”
“Nobody asked how I knew.”
Entry #002-09/8/1999
"I guess ill get used to writing these weird stories."
DISLIKES:
Loud noises
Crowds
Tourists
Clockwork
Being watched
LIKES:
Writing
Fashion
Sharks
Museums
Flower arranging
A girl in the blue coat
Archive-UNKNOWN. ???????
“Today I visited the museum.”
“I've already written this.”
“No, you haven't.”
“I don't think the rooms are always in the same place.”
theres something here.
ENTRY #030 — THE SCHOOL
I found it eventually.
Or maybe I had already found it before.
I don't remember the name. I don't remember anyone telling me about it.
It was in one of my stories. The building looked different there, but I knew the windows.
I decided to go.
It's quieter than I expected.
Some of the halls feel familiar.
I've seen a few faces I recognize.
They don't seem to recognize me.
I think that's probably for the best.
?????
?????
I dont remember this.
“Today I saw someone from one of my stories.”
“I didn't tell them their name.”
“They knew mine.”
???
????
— ENDINGS ARE ONLY NEW BEGINNINGS._
EVERY ENDING LEAVES A TRACE
EVERY MEMORY HAS A BEGINNING
WHAT ENDS WILL BE REMEMBERED
TO BE FINISHED!!!!!!