Vieviel

There is more than one way to lose a memory. It can happen like water, rushing through our psyche, while we try desperately to keep those thoughts cupped in our hands so they don’t flow through our fingers—and when they do, they are dropped into the mainstream and dispersed among the other memories, never to be distinguished again. Some travel like insects, buzzing around our ears until they are swatted away in annoyance and disgust, unwanted and suppressed. But, in most people, it happens slowly, gradually—with increments fading and dying over time, like the deceased in our lives we once loved, or everyday routines that we suddenly don’t need anymore.

Every being possesses three kinds of memory. The first is the factual memory, the kind kept in our minds, the easiest lost—Susan doesn’t like cinnamon, Emmanuel’s birthday is the twenty-first, the begonias need to be watered twice a day. The second type of memory is acquired instinctively and remembered even in the worst cases of amnesia—how to eat, how to tell your body to move, how to sleep. The last memories are kept in our organs and only forgotten when the brain is no longer healthy enough to remind them how to work. This is the kind of memory that pumps blood, creates pain, the kind that allows us to see and feel and smell.

It is most unfortunate for me that I should have to constantly remember to retain each memory, or else be banished to a different world until I can remember what I had forgotten. Every day the thought haunts me that when this happens, I will not return—for how can someone remember when they do not have the tools to do so in isolation? In fact, no one has ever returned before.

In my days at home, many ages ago when memories were the epitome of existence, I was surrounded by a family that I never thought I would need to replace. We each reminded each other how to be, how to love, and how to learn. Memories are easily forgotten and detached, and eventually one forgets how to be at all. And, biding nature’s law that things must change over time, slowly they each disappeared, sometimes by themselves or in groups. I am the last one left, reminded of them only when I caught sight of a comb that has not forgotten how to be a comb, or a mirror that still remembers how to reflect. But still, now that they are gone, and few things are present to remind me how to be me, it is only a matter of time before I forget.


~Continuing the Story~

In the moments just prior of my vanishing, I was lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to remember just what I was doing—just what I needed to do. Light poured through the window, I could feel the soft linen against my head and heard faint music made by the crickets stationed outside my window. A clock ticked somewhere, unevenly, for time no longer had meaning and it could tick and tock at any moment, at its own leisure. I continued examining the ceiling, finding pictures and patterns that appeared and disappeared as my eyes struggled to focus.

In a flourish of giddiness that one has when trying to complete a task that becomes increasingly precise, I closed my eyes and shook myself a little, breathing deeply and struggling to keep my train of thought on its tracks. In that space of time I felt a draft; cool and unfamiliar air rushed over my skin and rustled my nightclothes. My eyelids pressed themselves further upon my eyes and I could feel my eyebrows furrowing and my cheeks growing tense.

I opened my eyes, but my vision was fogged by a mist falling upon my face. Despite this, I saw that the light no was longer there—the sun had gone from the sky. I continued lying down, confused—the sun had never left the sky for as long as I could remember.

After I heard a disturbing crack in the distance I sat up quickly, blinking, but saw only trees perched in the dark waiting to attack. From what I could see of it, the sky glittered with stars—millions and millions of them, like grains of sugar sprinkled above me. Between myself and the stars there were clouds, dense and thick, becoming more frequent on one side of the sky until they merged into one giant cloud so low to the ground it seemed that the sky became part of the earth.

Standing up, I noticed that I was placed in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by a dense forest that was faintly glowing from the dim moonlight that penetrated the intense fog. The forest looked so menacing to me then that I wished I could float upwards, away from my fear, so I could look down upon the earth and maybe at the same time see where I was.

Unfortunately, the most I could do was walk one way or the other. I stared into the dark gaps between the trees and tried to decide where to head, what to do. I was about to go where I deemed East by the light of the moon, but from behind me came the sound of singing—beautiful and harmonious, irresistible…I turned and walked, hoping that wherever I was going would lead me back home, back to the light…

A glow appeared in the distance, far away, growing in intensity with each step I left behind. It was strange; the song would stop and start again, not even sounding like real words, but instead expressions of joy through rhythm. I was captivated, I wanted to join in, I was drawn forwards as if I could forget all my troubles, but then a hand stopped me and I was propelled behind a tree and behind someone, a human like me. I started to yell or cry, anything—either in joy or anger or just general confusion, but the hand was clamped over my mouth and I was shushed roughly. Slowly the stunned silence that had been created by my surprise was filled with the music once more, and my senses were now accompanied by the scent of this persons hand against my face—a sweet scent that was like the crisp air around clean fabric and the tang of pure, white sugar, suspended in the kitchen of a bakery.

I did not struggle, sensing that this would not be in my best interests as my head and neck strained between the hand and the tree behind me. Instead, I tried my best to catch a glance at my offender, but my head could not move and my eyes had reached the extent of their ability just short of anything useful. I waited, minutes passed and I listened to the music, slowly falling back into the stupor I had so willingly found before, and slowly, I was released from the pain I was trying to ignore and found myself face to face with a young man whose skin glowed with a blue light. He was frowning at me in distress, studying me in order to recognize my face.

His hair was long—and appeared dark in so little light—held back in a ponytail that rested loosely over his shoulder. He had eyebrows—which were so light I could only see them because of the little distance between us—that were furrowed over eyes unusually round at the edges. His nose was short and pointed at the end. He had a thin mouth that was framed by a meager jaw line, surprisingly small for a man. His features imprinted themselves in my mind like a snapshot before he spoke.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice like sifting sand under waves. He was now looking at my pajamas, a simple shirt and brown slacks that any man could be found wearing at my age. Even so, I was slightly embarrassed to be found in my state, but relaxed when I noticed his clothes—his shirt was like a toga, hanging over loose pants much like mine but short, cut just below the knees. I fixed my rumpled pajamas as I tried to gather my thoughts, my memories.

“Nathaniel.” My mind was seized, a picture formed, and I saw my home again, the sun warming the wood floors, flowers decorating the walls. But it left just as quickly as it had come.

“Vieviel.” He bowed to me, leaving me unsure of what to do with my hands.

“Well, Vieviel, I was just going somewhere,” the music grew louder and deeper, vibrating through my feet and into my head, “and I wish to get there…”

“You can’t go in that direction.”

“Why not?” I was miffed, disliking direction not given in my own mind.

“If you do, you’ll find yourself somewhere you cannot return from.” Vieviel stepped between me and my destination. I chuckled—as if I wasn’t there already—and tried to step past him.

“Please, I am already far from my home and unlikely to return. Is there any other reason you are so desperate to stop me from what could very well be eternal happiness?”

“Because…” he seemed unable to come up with a good excuse for me. I pushed past him and crashed into the trees, unaware of the racket I was making. “Please, that’s my family!”

Surprised, I stopped and turned. Vieviel stood helplessly, his body was devoid of motion, a perfectly pitiful statue, begging me not to go on.

“I’m not going to hurt them. Will they hurt me?” Another wave of fear crashed through my mind, once again afraid of these uncertain woods and what may be in them. But the music went on unbidden, luring me and my thoughts away. Fear was meaningless once more.

“Let me tell you my story, it will show you why you must not disturb them.” Vieviel beckoned, but I was not about to abandon all hope. I turned toward the music again; completely unfeeling for this pathetic young man who seemed so desperate to stop me from any happiness, but the music had stopped. It was gone, like water down a drain or dust into a vacuum. Supremely disappointed, I faced Vieviel and sat next to him. Staying with him, I supposed, was better than being left alone. Vieviel began speaking in a flourish while I rested my head onto my hand angrily.

“For years my family has lived in this world, never disturbed by any one—except for the many wild creatures that live in these woods.” It was then that I noticed the bow and arrows leaned upon a nearby tree. “Every six days, they will leave our underground home and travel into the forest so they can perform their ritual. This ritual erases all bad memories—from things as heartbreaking as murders and deaths to simple disappointments and annoyances.

“I have watched them in their ritual for many years; so many that I cannot remember the number, without actually doing it with them. Before I used to forget with them, and I regret at times ever skipping out from this, but there are days when I am glad I sit and watch rather than forget everything that is useful, because you see, without what you can remember for your mistakes, of every bad incident that ever happened, they are bound only to repeat.” Lines seemed to form around his eyes, circles appeared that made him look very tired, that he needed sleep.

“Why haven’t you stopped them?” I was slightly incredulous, aghast as to why anyone would want to live just to erase their own minds.

“I have tried. But we have a leader, someone not part of our family—no one remembers this but me, of course. But he has stopped me somehow every time I’ve made any attempt for their sanctity. I am overpowered, I am just one man…besides, how to you get an entire group of people to stop doing what makes them so happy?”

I nodded, feeling very tired all of the sudden. This earth, this world—the whole environment reminded me of something that I had done or somewhere I had been once long ago, before my home alone where the sun never sets, before everything was just for the purpose of being, before time lost its meaning.

“Why can’t I disturb them again?” I needed a bed somewhere, and any sign of humans meant there was a chance to sleep peacefully.

“It’s not that they will notice you, they’d probably take you in as family just like we did our leader,” a twinge of irritation grew in my mind, “but I’m afraid that you’ll turn out to be just like them, and they’ll forget you, and even you will forget yourself.”

“I suppose that doesn’t sound as good as I thought at first…but what’s the harm if I’m not going to have any real effect?” Vieviel seemed weary.

“Well, I guess that in my panic I thought you were going to hurt them. But it seems clear to me you only really need a place to stay. How about with me? I have a home separate from my family’s, you can stay there and no one will know you are here.” He stood up and offered me his hand, which I took, happy that I would be getting a place to stay.

We trekked through the woods once more, the fog had cleared a good deal and the moon was high in the sky, lighting things like another sun. I marveled at the plants around us, so different from those at home. Some were in spirals or tubes, stretched and transformed to ridiculous extents, some covered the trees or cushioned the ground, and I was sure I saw a plant move to watch us as we marched closer to our destination.

“There are ferocious creatures in these woods, you say?” I whispered to Vieviel as he hopped from one tree root to another. He seemed to have little cares for any possible dangerous animals or violent deaths.

“Not in this light! I haven’t seen the moon so bright. I can see parts of these woods I’ve never noticed before!” He smiled gently as I stumbled over everything I could have stumbled over and pondered over this world.

“You mean you don’t come out in the daytime?” I asked, wondering when that would come.

“Daytime?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vieviel walked on, unconcerned in what I had just inquired about. I was disturbed, this thought made my head ache for balance, and I contemplated over how strange it was that I had just left my home of forever day to stumble into the land of forever night.

-How is it that you came upon your family like that?
-Like what?
-How did you decide not to join your family one day…night…in their ceremony?
-It was my brother.
-You have a brother.
-I had a brother. He meant more to me than anything I had.
-And he skipped out with you.
-No. He died. He died, and I didn’t want to forget him.
-And so you skipped.
-Yes. And I didn’t go back, although the pain of seeing my family in the way that they were was unbearable at times.
-You thought about going back?
-If it meant that the sadness would go away, yes. But it meant that I had no chance of saving them, and the prospect of saving them is worth a lifetime of sadness.
-Funny you should say that…

I awoke in a cave, darker than the surrounding night, the first dream in an age quickly vanishing from my mind. What were we talking about? What was I thinking at the end?

I wanted to go back to sleep, but my internal clock kept me up. Night was strange; I couldn’t stop marveling at its abilities to quickly fill up an entire room, even when your mind is full of lights and sun. But the moon made things visible if they needed to be. And soon, I grew used to seeing nothing in the shape of something. I blinked, hoping that I had actually blinked, since I did not see my eyelids flicker shut with my own eyes.

I tried to see if Vieviel was somewhere close, but I could not see if even I was somewhere at all. I wondered about my dream, if it was true that sometimes people were connected in dreams as they are often in the state of the conscious mind. Was I really talking to Vieviel? Was it possible my own mind could have fabricated the words from nothing? Is it best I forget?

“Nathaniel?”

“Vieviel!” I sat up, craning my neck and still seeing nothing but the intense black in front of my face.

“You should go to sleep. I can hear you shuffling around. It’s still too early to be awake.”

“How can you tell?”

“The moon is gone.”

So there it was. The moon was their sun, their day. It was so dark because it was still night. Why did some things become so simple?

“Sleep is what’s important here. It keeps us alive, the rest allows us to undergo the next day.”

“I haven’t slept in a while.”

“That much is clear.” I could hear Vieviel’s voice slowly coming closer, and I was certain I heard him dragging his body towards mine. “You don’t look like someone who sleeps much.”

“I don’t think you understand. I don’t normally sleep at all. I don’t need it. All I need to do is stay awake and be.”

“And be what?”

“There. Be there.” I was speaking at less than a whisper; Vieviel had become closer and quieter. I could smell him, hear him, even my skin sensed a presence near me…each sense was enhanced. It was what it would be like to be blind.

“How can you be there, and yet have no purpose?” He had put his hand on my chest and was gently pushing. I understood, and lied back down.

“It is how I am.” His hand stayed on me, and I could feel him settle next to me. I knew that somehow it was his way of making sure I did not go, that I did not try to get away. He was afraid of what I would do, that it would disturb his world in a way that he could not control himself, in a way that he was not quite sure whether it would have his approval. The dark had made this easier to know, to guess. I submitted. I closed my eyes once again, sinking back into the unfamiliar pool of light fabricated from the surface of my own mind. If only I could have taken that light and shined it above this world, in this cave, so finally color lived again and I would not have to worry any longer of stepping on sharp rocks.


Three weeks came and went, the days marked only by sleep; and I stayed. I stayed, not because I was content, but because I was discontent. Though my heart fluttered through the menacing gaps between the trees, though I learned to love and embrace the fear I so feared, to yearn for it—I stayed. I stayed and for this I was cared for.

It was not difficult to make myself unseen in the cave of the village where Vieviel lived. I could slip in and out of the stalagmites extending graciously from the earth, dismissed as a passing shadow or harmless creature.

“You may stay here for as long as you like. You may find your niche here sooner or later.” Vieviel seemed eager to keep me in his home—I was a secret, the key to a world he was only sure he knew when I was with him. I knew this; I could sense he enjoyed my presence in the childlike way that I soon detested, that forced my gaze into the trees beyond.

One night I crept out of the small space Vieviel had reserved for me and stole among the eternally foreign pillars of mineral that my eyes had grown so tired of seeing. I tiptoed through the mouth of the cave, towards the darkness. The was a pull, a strong attraction to the world outside that both awoke my senses and lulled my thoughts to sleep while it lured me to yet another dark place—but with freedom, endless possibilities that erupted in my mind and pushed me even further.

I ran, my feet were shoeless—and yet the ground beneath was softer than newly sprouted grass. I could smell one distant memory after another, among them that were now budding in my thoughts, sights and sounds now clearer than ever.

“Nathaniel!”

I could see a life before mine, or was it my first? The visions I saw sparked emotions I forgot I had, my legs carried me away towards the life I so missed and had so easily forgotten.

“Nathaniel!”

Jump.Voices sang to me—if you jump then you can fly back. I tried to say something back.

“Nathaniel!”

A light burst above me, smiling, yawning. I jumped, flew into the light, back into the ways I once knew. I spun, feeling the glow warm my skin. But someone else was there, trying to touch me, to grasp my hand. The ground came, ending my flight abruptly, as if I had just leapt up a flight of stairs. I fell, and saw next to me whom I had tried to escape.

Vieviel sat up, alarmed, blinking in the sun, trying to shield his eyes. He looked for me but could not see, for the life he lead in the dark did not prepare him for the pure light that blinded him.

I heaved myself up wearily beside him, both loathing and loving him for his presence. He gazed at me, and for once I noticed his startling green eyes and skin that now lacked his characteristic blue pigment.

“Nathaniel, I’m sorry, I am trespassing,” Vieviel jumped up, turning wildly as if he expected to find some sort of door. There was nothing but a vast field of yellow orchids, and in the distance, my house. “Where are we? What is that blaze?” Vieviel squinted; tears were involuntarily streaming from his eyes. “I’m not sure I can see anymore.”

“You are not trespassing. There are none unwelcome here.” I sighed, grappling with the idea of bringing along someone who was the very embodiment of what I was attempting to escape. The truth was, Vieviel had become very dear to me, but I had been ready to leave him behind, I had prepared myself for it, and now it was all in vain. Alas, what did it matter now?

“I must leave at once.” Vieviel’s voice cracked.

“You cannot leave, not you.”

“Why not?”

“To leave, you must be someone who is willing to forget the past and leave the ways of a human being, or you have to be someone who does things like that on accident. You are neither. You purposefully remember everything you possibly can in order to live.”

“Is this heaven? With all this light?”

“Don’t be absurd…” I trudged toward the house in the distance, Vieviel following close on my heels.

“It must be. It must be heaven, and you’ve forgotten it.”

“I have not forgotten the truths of my own home! I refuse to recognize your theory! It has no grounds!” Something he said struck a nerve, I blushed deeply after I snapped at him, sorry for what I had done with so little provocation.

Vieviel looked taken aback, and spoke no more. We walked through the flowers, out of the corner of my eye I saw Vieviel pick one en route and study it intensively. I smiled despite myself, knowing the absence of bright flowers like orchids in his world.

The house was as I had left it—empty, neat, and still. My heart had once beaten in synchronization with the beat of the house, but it was clear that it had stopped long ago. Now it was a dead house, a shell, desperately in need to become alive once again.

Vieviel stared, his appearance utterly transformed in the presence of daylight. He smiled in wonder, strong eyes now used to the sun. An orchid was twirling between his fingers like a baton.

“This is a strange place.”

“It is my home.”

“Much different from a cave. It’s so…linear.” He ran a hand along a wall.

“It is my home.”

“Now what?” Vieviel leaned against the counter, clashing horrifically in age and neatness.

“I’m not sure.” I sat in a chair, folded my arms, and looked out the window. There was barely anything, but a tight group of trees and the vast field of orchids. Vieviel wandered around, picking things up and examining them in wonder. At times he would exclaim something in surprise, the forks, the photos…I watched him move about, while I thought deeply about current events. I was trying to figure out what to do with the strange foreigner in my home. We had switched roles, it was now my job to care for him and get him back to his own home.

“Why did you leave?” Vieviel was not sitting across from me at the table.

“I…” I searched for the words—how could I explain the pull I had felt in those woods? The yearn to be warm once again?

“You left me. You left me and my family, and you were supposed to save us.”

“I beg your pardon?” I was taken aback, only now realizing the secret and purpose Vieviel had in store for me. “How can you say that? How do you know I could have possibly done that?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s because when I was younger I always thought that to live in this world, one must learn to give back as much as they take. I was going to help you get back home, and you were going to save us.”

“Not much of a balance. And you were wrong, anyhow. I got right back here without your help.” I got up, stood blankly while I tried to think of what to do, and sat down again in defeat.

“I’m sorry; I guess that it is too much to ask.” Vieviel drooped a little, looking down at the hands in his lap.

“In any circumstance, you’re going to have to forget them anyway.”

Vieviel looked up at me, and I noticed a tear that had made a trail down his cheek. I grew uncomfortable. Every second I thought about it, the more I grew concerned with the future. Normally I would stay by myself all day, reading a book, or drifting restlessly through the house as if I were a ghost. But now…must I entertain? What did he expect?

“Does anyone else live here?” Vieviel wiped his face and stared at me.

“No.”

“What about outside?”

“What about it?”

“Is there anyone else out there?”

“No.” he stared in disbelief. “At least, not that I know of.”

“Then that’s what we must do.” Vieviel stood.

“What?”

“We have to find someone. We have to walk towards the edge of the earth until we get there. How ridiculous would it be to sit here, day after day, waiting for nothing? Let’s go.”

I stumbled out the door after him, watching dazedly the path he made through the orchids. I supposed it was better than nothing; after all, there were many times in the past I had thought of simply picking a direction and moving, but I had dismissed the idea each time.


Vieviel had begun running. It was hard for me to keep up, for his long legs carried him much further than my short strides. The house was rapidly shrinking from view, and the sun had not shifted its position in the sky. I was worried, I knew Vieviel needed to sleep—a method I had adopted living with him, but of which I did not seem to need quite as much as he did. He was indeed panting, there was a falter in his step, and his eyes had dark circles under then.

“You must stop and rest.”

“I cannot rest until I know in my head that you and I are not the only ones on this earth.” Nevertheless, he stopped and bent over, trembling.

“I don’t know how long it’s been, Vieviel, but we must stop if we wish to continue with sane minds.” Vieviel did not continue to object; instead he further lowered himself into the orchids, burying himself as if in snow. He was soon breathing heavily in the way I recognized when he was asleep.

I continued to walk idly, there were trees about once for every square acre, and my house had long since shrunk completely out of sight. I guessed that we had been heading out for a few hours, and there did not seem to be any sign of other life. I heaved a sigh, the weight of a pointless task was now bearing itself upon my shoulders, so I sat underneath the nearest tree and watched the spot Vieviel was sleeping at, waiting for him to wake up and realize the pointlessness of what he was doing.