Diary of a Teenage SCP

I don't remember, anymore.

There was a time when I did remember, when I could remember. There was light, and joy, and peace. There was family, comforting, distant, helpful, trusting. They were good to me, and I was good to them.

There is a shape, a hole in my memory, where they should be. Suggestions of people. Father figure, stern and guiding, always over worked. Mother shaped blob, loving and cheerful, working harder than father. Brothers, one strong, one tricky. Sisters. One I protected, when she wept. One who I…

I can't remember.

But it was wrong, and it made them all mad at me.

I remember yelling.

There was work, then. Lots of work. Over and over again. They were training me. Training me to be part of something greater!

The memories are supposed to be gone. It hurts more when I remember. We had a deal! And he keeps his part. When I remember… He helps me forget.

There was a girl. I always remember there was a girl. Her hair… Was it red? Was it blonde? I don't remember. It was long. That I know. It was long, and it glistened, and her eyes, they were like two big black pits, that you could get lost in. Do people have eyes like that?

It was love, I think.

She said it was love.

She died.

He still tells me about her. Or another her. A her that doesn't know me. A her that grew up without the family. That's a good thing, I think. My family. We aren't good people. But we try!

I remember her. I made her hurt. It wasn't supposed to hurt. But I loved her. In the end, I think it was my love that killed her. Or was it loving her?

It hurts. I call out to him, to get him to remember me, so I can forget. I don't want to fix these wounds in my head, I don't want to remember.

What's that? Hee. He's funny. Why's he crying? I'll make him happy!

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