Life Without Memory (Book 1 of the Magical Machine Series)
Barriers

Three pieces of bread roll out of the slot in the door.I quickly crawl off my mattress and grab the closest roll. I gnaw at roll, gladthat at least the midday meal came on time. I offer you some of my food, andyou hungrily snatch the piece of bread and chew on it.

Lizzie picks up a roll and stares out it. “It’s moldy!” sheexclaims.

I don’t know why she’s complaining. “It’s normal prisonfair. It is bread to keep you alive. Porridge in the morning. Bread for midday.Soup for the end of the day, and then the dim light in our cell will go out,and we will sleep, waiting for the dim light to flicker on. It has always beenthat way; it will always be that way.”

I work on chewy on the bread. The green spots on it are theeasiest areas to eat.

She stares at me, her mouth agape in shock. “They expect usto eat this? What do they think we are, animals?”

Well, yes. I think they do think of us as animals. We arefood for the Xatron. I just shrug again.

Nathan trudges over to the last piece of bread, and bitesinto it. He looks disgusted and he quickly covers his mouth. I can see himtrying to swallow. Why is he disgusted?

He turns toward me. “Do you not taste how terrible thisbread is? It tastes like – I don’t know – garbage or dirt.”

“How do you know what garbage tastes like? Have you evereaten out of a dumpster?” Lizzie asks.

“Well, no. But I’ve smelled them, and this tastes like thatsmelled,” he replies.

All this talk of taste and smell. These are things that canbe ignored. Pushed away and forgotten, just like the memories.

“Do you not taste it Lily?” He asks.

I refuse to answer to that name. I will not be some randomguy’s dead girlfriend. Sorry, just not happening.

“Umm, sorry. Hope,” he corrects himself.

“It is all the same. There is nothing to taste. Nothing tosmell.” Both of them focus in on me like hyenas. What the heck are hyenas? Isuddenly see an image of a hunched over beast with bristly brown hair, and lipsstretched backward into a mocking smile. Hyenas are scavengers though aren’tthey? I don’t even know why I know this. I haven’t ever left this cell. I’venever seen a hyena, at least that I know of.

Lizzie is waving her hand in front of me. “Did you hear me?Are you there, Hope?”

“Huh?” I didn’t hear anything.

“What do you mean you can’t taste anything?” She asks,exasperation coating her voice.

“Umm, just what I said. I don’t taste anything. Or at leastI assume I don’t since you guys seem to think this tastes bad, whatever thatis. And to me it is nothing. It’s a little hard except for the green spotswhich are softer, though a little slimy.” I pull at the long black sleeves ofmy prison shirt. These questions are making me uncomfortable. I can’t explainwhy. I don’t know.

Nathan squats down in front of me. “Li – Hope, you say youcan ignore the taste. How? How do you eat this and ignore the taste and thetexture.”

“I don’t know. It’s gone. It’s all gone. I don’t know why,or how. The barriers protect me.” The barriers? What am I talking about? Thatbarrier in my mind, the one I ran into when searching for my memories, thatmust be what I am talking about. But what do I mean when I say they protect me?From what? Myself? Maybe they protect me from my own memories.

Nathan is saying something, “…Hope.”

“Hmm?” I don’t want to admit I wasn’t actually listening. Idon’t normally listen to people, but I am not around people normally.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean the barriersprotect you?” He asks again. He has really pretty hair. I kind of just want toreach out stroke his soft golden locks, and feel if they are as soft as theylook.

“Um, Well. I don’t really know.” How do you tell someonethere is a barrier in your mind that protects you from your own memories, fromtaste and smell? I guess you wouldn’t really know how to tell some that. Youprobably don’t have a barrier, but you wouldn’t tell me if you did, would you.

I guess I could try and tell them. What will it hurt? Theymight think me insane and finally leave me alone. The worst case is they willbe here for a while and eventually the guards will take him away, like theytake everyone away.

What do you think I should do?

You don’t ever plan on talking to me do you? You just listento me ramble on, always staring at me with that blank look on your face. Wellfine. I’ll tell them.

I crawl to the cement wall and lean against it. I need itssupport right now. “I have a barrier in my mind. It protects me from memory. Itprotects me from the tastes and smells of the world, I think. I live in thiscell alone, but sometimes others join me, I think. I think it protects me fromthe very memories of them.”

Both of them stare at me. Lizzie opens and closes her moutha couple times. “I don’t understand. It isn’t possible to force yourself toforget something,” she finally speaks up.

I shrug. She can think what she wants.

Nathan sits down next to me, and grabs my hand. I stare hishand. Why is he holding my hand?

“Do you push all feeling behind this barrier? Do you feel painfrom your ankles? Do you care about the people who have come through your cell,or have you forgotten everything except existing?” He asks.

I shrug again and wring my hands. I guess the worst scenariois they won’t stop questioning me. “I don’t know. The barrier keeps me alive.The barrier keeps me sane. I don’t know what you mean by asking me if my anklescause me pain.”

His face is too close to mine with those disturbingly blueeyes. How does someone have such blue eyes? I want to back away, to crawly intomy corner and hide. He is too close. “Your ankle is bent at 90 degrees. Do younot feel pain from that? You obviously can’t walk on it.”

I look down at my ankle. It’s much better than having myattention captured by those eyes. I can’t remember why they are like this.Something tells me I use to walk like these other two people, but it was a longtime ago.

“I don’t know. I feel nothing from it.”

I pull my hand out of Nathan’s grip and crawl around him,back to my mattress.

Lizzie sits on one side of me, and Nathan on the other side.They are trying to talk to me. They are asking questions, but I ignore them. Ineed to settle my mind. To meditate. Questions are making the barrier weaker, Iam certain. Meditating will strengthen it. Now that I know that the barrier isprotecting me. I must protect it.

Lizzie pokes me. “So you don’t feel pain? You don’t care forothers. You just exist in this cell. You aren’t living!”

She can accuse me as much as she wants. I truthfully don’tcare. “Remember rule one? Leave me alone. Remember rule two? This side of theroom is mine. Go back to your side of the room.”

They continue to sit there, so I ignore them and focusinward on nothingness. I push away their distractions.

Three bowls of soup are slid through the slot in the doorbringing me out of my reverie. I look around and notice the other two have goneover to their side of the room and fallen asleep on the smooth concrete floor.Good.

I crawl to the door and grab a bowl, sucking down the liquidsoup. For a second I think about drinking down the other two bowls of soupsince my cell mates are asleep, but it wouldn’t be right. I can’t just go andsteel their rations from them, even if they are ungrateful. In fact, I shouldwake them up so they can eat before the bowls are taken away. I crawl overwhere they are sleeping against their wall.

Who should I wake them up? Lizzie is more annoying to bearound, but Nathan has those disturbing eyes and bothersome questions. He alsokeeps thinking of me as his dead girlfriend.

You look over at Lizzie. Yes. She probably is the bestchoice to wake up. I crawl over toward her and poke her. She doesn’t wake up. Ishake her a little, and she jumps up, almost stepping on me.

“What the heck!” she screeches.

So much for doing a good deed. “Soup is here. Thought youmight want to eat.”

I crawl back to my mattress. The dim light will turn offsoon. It is time to sleep. I lie down, and relax. I feel safe knowing you arewatching over me while I sleep. I feel confident that you will wake me foranything important.