The Forgotten.
It’s what I call them now. I suppose it’s kind of ironic seeing as the message written-in-blood on my bathroom mirror was the inspiration for the name. It’s also easier to cope with everything when I think of them like that.
They’re not gone, they’re just Forgotten.
I’ve spent the last couple of days just looking at that message. Looking and thinking. I believed that if I could just somehow decode this message, that the true source of my troubles will be revealed. And that I may somehow prevent it from happening again.
You see, a couple of weeks ago people started disappearing. Vanishing from the face of the earth. Everything they had ever done was forgotten by everyone. Everyone except me. Originally, there were only two people who went missing. Then it jumped to five over the course of a week. Now sixteen people are gone.
Sixteen.
Sixteen people who had dreams. Sixteen people who had ambitions. Sixteen people who had so much more to live for. Gone.
That’s why I look at the message. If there was a way to save these people, including myself. This would hold the key. It had too.
‘REPENT AND BE FORGIVEN
SIN AND BE FORGOTTEN’
These words had haunted me for days, their hidden meaning seeming to be just outside my grasp. It was horrible, my mind was on a never-ending journey that looped in circles. In other words, I was exhausted. Sleep is hard to come by when my entire life had been upended. Questions swam through my brain in a flurry of motion.
Did everyone else who was Forgotten get this message too?
If so, what sin had they committed that had justified them being wiped of the face of the earth?
How could I repent if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong?
Is it too late for me anyways?
That last question scared me the most. If there was something worse than death, this was it. To be forgotten by everyone you loved. It just felt… wrong. Part of me just wanted to run as far away as I could, hoping, just hoping I could save myself from that terrible fate. But I couldn’t. I would stay and figure this out. And if I became one of the Forgotten, then so be it.
I had to start somewhere, and to me the most logical place was deciphering what ‘sin’ exactly meant. I don’t exactly think the message was talking about a Ten Commandments type sin. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the perfect person, but I haven’t murdered anyone. Or stolen for that matter either. No, this sin had to be different. But what?
I was racking my brain when my phone dinged. I picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Meg, my girlfriend.
Yes, we’re dating again. Something about her being the only close friend of mine who had not yet disappeared had made her seem more desirable. She was also sympathetic to my situation as well, which is definitely a big plus.
She wanted to catch up for coffee and a walk. Quality time with my favourite person and a chance to clear my head sounded good to me. So, I quickly left to meet up with her. We met up at our favourite coffee shop before heading out to the park nearby.
It was noon and not to busy, the sun was shining but a cool breeze in the air made for a pleasant atmosphere. In between sips of hot coffee I told Meg about my new findings and asked her if she had any ideas about what ‘sin’ could mean.
She was silent for a moment, deep in thought. “Well, by the looks of it I don’t think it means sin as an action.”
I nodded. I had thought that much.
“But, it could mean sin as a concept. Not just a finite idea. Sort of like a build up of bad karma.”
I tried to stifle a laugh. “You actually believe that crap? You think the universe is out to get me in particular, for what exactly?”
“I don’t know. It was just a suggestion.” Meg said defensively.
“I know, I know. It’s more plausible then other theories I’ve thought of anyways.”
She smiled at me and looked me directly in the eyes. “Daniel, together we can get through this. You just have to be strong.”
It’s times like these when I love her the most. I smiled back at her. She started leaning in for a kiss and I leaned in closer as well, happy to comply. Her lips gently brushed mine and we began what should have been a powerful make-out session.
Should have been.
A couple of seconds later my body lurched forward, falling right through the spot were Meg should have been. I landed flat on my face, on the grass. I quickly flipped my body around to see what the hell just happened. There was no sign of Meg. I slowly got to my feet, scanning the area around me. I couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Meg?” I called out, but in the back of my mind I knew what had happened.
Still I refused to believe that. I started running, searching for places Meg could possibly be. But it was no use. Defeated, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Meg’s number.
“The number you have called has not been recognised.” Was the reply.
“FU-“ I began to say.
And then everything went black.
-—————————-
Waking up in a hospital is a weird feeling. The last thing I remember I was in a park, and now I’m in bed, in a place I’ve never been before. The doctor, whose name was Emily Roberts, said I was out for 30 minutes. A passerby had seen me faint, and had quickly called an ambulance. She said I was lucky I hadn’t received any form of permanent damage to my body. But then her tone shifted, and she looked at me more carefully.
“You kept saying under your breath that ‘she was gone’. Are you ok? The person who saw you pass out told us that it looked like you were answering a phone call before you fainted. Did you receive bad news?”
Well, I had received the worst news. Meg’s gone just like the rest of them. Gone forever. No, no I shouldn’t think like that. She’s not gone, she’s just Forgotten. It’s better that way. There’s no harm in telling the doctor anyways, I probably should have done that in the first place.
And so I told her everything. I didn’t care what she thought about me, I just had to get it off my chest. I told her about the missing people and even about the creepy blood message. I told her it all.
After I had finished, she gazed into the distance, seeming to be deep in thought. “What does the message say now?” She finally said.
“What?” I asked, bewildered.
“So it hasn’t changed then?”
“Well…no?”
“Good, that means you still have time.”
Then her countenance changed completely, she stopped seeming so distracted, and her voice changed to have a more professional inflection. “Like I was saying, we’ve tested your blood sugars, and they seem normal. So the fainting is probably a one-off experience caused by stress.”
“What were you saying…about the message changing?”
“What message?’ She questioned.
She’s forgotten? I mean, that’s a usual occurrence for me…but not like this.
The doctor began speaking again. “You kept saying under your breath that ‘she was gone’. Are you ok? Did you receive bad news? We have therapy available if you require that.”
What? She just said that? Well, not about the therapy. That would be nice in fact, I should take her up on that offer.
“I’d like that, Emily.” I said.
She smiled and nodded her head. “Good.”
-—————————-
After being checked out, I called an Uber and made my way home. My head was spinning. What was going on? What was the doctor trying to tell me? Why did she forget about our conversation? How did she forget about our conversation?
And then I thought about Meg. I don’t know if you’ve cried in the back of an Uber before, but I can tell now you its not a pleasant experience. But I cried anyways. I was hurt and losing Meg was the final straw. She supported me and I can truthfully say I loved her. All the connections, the conversations and memories I had had with her didn’t matter anymore.
No, that’s not right. Of course they did. I would go home and write about her in my almost-filled journal of the Forgotten. She might have been forgotten by everyone else, but I would never let that happen to me. Never.
As the car pulled in front of my house, I had a sort of perverse optimism for what lay before me. I would write about Meg. I would find a way to contact Emily again. I would go to a therapist. I would get better.
I would do it for Meg.
As I walked through my house I passed my bathroom to see the message one last time.
‘REPENT AND BE FORGIVEN
SIN AND BE FORGOTTEN’
I would also solve this damned riddle as well. And make sure to keep an eye on it. I don’t know what would happen if it changes, but I can be sure it won’t be good for me. It’s a message written in blood on my bathroom mirror after all. What else could I be expecting?
Not a pleasant time, that’s for sure.