Photographic Memory

[ShadowCloud62]

Photographic Memory
A Photographic Memory is a deadly thing...​

Hello, everyone. This is my newest work, Photographic Memory. Since I am almost finished with my other work, Words of Farewell, I have decided to begin Photographic Memory.

This is rated M for Mature.


Prologue

A photographic memory is often a gift. However to some it is a curse. Something they wish not to remember....they remember.....

People consider my photographic memory a gift. They say it's amazing that I can remember things from what time of day to capture a wild Donphan to what the person just walking by was wearing. I do remember such things. I remember the weather on January 28th, 1993, a rainy day, with just a few specks of hail. I remember every single excerpt I've read in many books, and I can recite them, word for word. I remember what Scout first looked like when I held her. Scared, and confused....lonely. I remember how to properly spell words.

And I remember THAT DAY.

The one time I don't want my photographic memory to rewind to THAT DAY, it still does. Usually when I am researching, I remember THAT DAY, and I end up dropping my books, my notes, everything in my hand. Scout usually helps me pick them up.

I remember the sickly sweet honey voice that spoke...

"Best if you don't tell anyone about this, you hear, sweet pea?"

Then I remember someone straddling me on the ground, ripping off my clothes, and when they were done, I remember them whispering, "Good girl....silent, you won't tell a soul...I know....".

I remember the smell of death, the stench was still stuck in my nostrils. I remember how they looked, eyes wide with terror. The last thing they saw was terror. I remember vomitting and vomitting, staggering out completely naked, and screaming, screaming at the top of my lungs, until Officer Jenny saw me, appalled at how I looked, and what was behind me.

And then Scout was behind Jenny, eyes wide with terror. We had such a powerful connection. Once I saw Scout, I hugged her. She was my only family, my most loyal friend. I selfishly wished she was locked in that place with me, suffering just the way I was.

My name is Nia Kiersten.

And with my photographic memory, I remember wonderful things.

I also happen to remember dreadful things.




What did you think? Review please.

 

[qwerqwer]

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm interesting. With a big feeling of dèjá vu.
Ill look for this later. seems worthy.

 

[billy5772]

i think this is a good start. I'm interested to see in what direction you take the idea of someone being haunted by a memory. Where is this going, plotwise? I'll be back to read the first chapter! Keep writing.

 

[ShadowCloud62]

O.O Didn't think I'd get two reviews in five minutes....

qwerqwer: Thank you. Your review is greatly appreciated.

billy5772: Yay! You like it! The story will be a bit slow-paced, but for a reason. Now I am introducing our heroine, Nia, and "Scout".

Chapter One
I Remember Scout

I remember how Scout looked back when I first held her. She was weak, beaten by her former trainer, who had abandoned her. Two black eyes, the two green leaves on top of her head were droopy and lazy.

She was very light, as light as a feather. Her body was completely red, she looked like a vegetable or something.

I remember naming her Scout because in the many folk tales I read to the children in the library, there was a Hoppip like her named Scout. In the story, Scout was a feisty, sassy, yet good-natured Hoppip. It seemed the moment I took her in my hands, she had that personality. Thus the name Scout for the new Hoppip, although I didn't call her that until after she grew attached to me.

I remember tending to her wounds. I had carried her to the second floor of the library, the library staff's quarters. I had entered my room and laid her down on my twin sized bed.

"Stay there, okay, honey?" I said, hurrying over to close the huge bay window by my desk. I knew Hoppip were extremely light creatures, if one breeze flew by, Scout would fly away easily.

I took out bandages and hydrogen peroxide from my large mahogany desk. I hurried over to the Hoppip, dipped a cotton ball into the peroxide, and gently dabbed the cotton ball on one of the many bruises the Hoppip had on her body.

The poor girl shrieked in pain, its leaves shooting straight up and it's two bruised yellow eyes widening. It desperately tried to squirm away from my grasp on her.

"Relax, I'm trying to help you!" I remember saying as I continued gently dabbing the ball of cotton onto her bruises. She kept shrieking in pain but didn't move away from me.

After placing many bandages on her most serious injuries, I whispered, "There. You're all right now. You'll have to stay here in the library for a while, at least until your injuries heal. Then I'll release you back into the wild."

I gently stroked her cheek with my thumb, relaxing her a bit. She finally sighed and shut her eyes, content.

Of course, she never was released into the wild. On the day her injuries healed, she would not leave the building. She merely stood, clutching onto my leg with all her strength. I kept exclaiming, "Hoppip, you have to go!", but she merely shook her head, eyes the color of sunshine widening and begging me not to let her go.

My angry expression softened, and I remember lifting her up and smiling, "All right, you can stay here. With me. I'll be your new trainer. Your friend. I'll give you a name, even. How's the name 'Scout'? You like that name?"

The little Hoppip grinned and said approvingly, "Hoppip, hop, hop, Hoppip!"

I remember laughing and hugging her tightly with newfound love for this sweet, innocent creature.

And then I remember wanting desperately to have her be with me at that moment, as I cried and tried to scream but my voice was kept smothered by someone else's mouth on mine. I remember the horrible person's tongue entering my mouth, tasting me, and I remember the horrid taste of beer on the tongue. I remember my muffled scream, my muffled scream of, "SCOUT!".

I remember thinking, Scouty, Scouty, I need you, Scouty, help me!

I remember the way my arms squeezed Scout as if I'd never see her again, I was crying my eyes out, and my tears fell onto the top of the sweet Hoppip's head.

"Scouty, Scouty, Scouty...." was all I could say for those two hours I was in the police station. I would not let Scout go.

I remember being unable to speak for three weeks straight, keeping myself isolated, every time going into the shower in the morning, noon, and night of every day. Every time, cleaning myself and not feeling clean. Brushing my teeth and swallowing half a bottle of mouthwash. My mouth never felt clean, either. I remember my last daily checkup with my doctor, her telling me that I had to speak, tell the truth, or I'd probably go crazy. I remember Scout gently trying to console me through my constant vomitting fits and anxiety attacks at night.

Scout was always there.

Why couldn't she be there when I needed her that horrible night?

"Hop?"

I blink and look up from the mystery book that I'm pretending to read, I escape my memories, and I see none other than my beloved friend Scout, my friend for two years, standing on the massive pile of books I took out from the library, looking at me with worried eyes.

"Hop, hop, Hoppip?" she asks me if I'm all right.

I close my book, and gently pat her on the head, and speak softly while I smile a small smile, "Yes, Scout, honey, I'm fine."

My voice doesn't even sound like my own anymore. It cracks due to me not using it for a long time.

Scout's worried expression does not fade, "Hop, hop. Hoppip, hop, pip?"

She's right. I look at the clock. It's two in the morning. I should be getting some sleep.

Then again, I've never been able to sleep since that day, now haven't I?

 

[Literate]

o-o I should stop reading stuff with nudity in it. My mind is a sketch pad. o-o It scares even me. In two days, I read three fics with people like that. All girls. It's haunting me.. ;-;

Anyways that is very good. The prologue is very creepy though. I think its actually something I would like to read a lot. No grammar problems and other things. Good bye!

~PEACE~

EDIT: Heh heh. I just went over it and found one. Bad me.

I blink and look up from the mystery book that I'm pretending to read. I escape my memories, and I see none other than my beloved friend Scout, my friend for two years, standing on the massive pile of books I took out from the library, looking at me with worried eyes.

It is a big run-on.

 

[Astinus]

And so, we get a fic of a tortured woman and a battered Hoppip. ;;

I too would like to see where you go with this. And I wonder if Scout will have any therapeutic affects on Nia, because animals do help humans better than humans helping humans.

My one thing about this is Scout's dialogue. You appear too comma-happy with it. And you captialize "hoppip" when it is in the middle of the sentence.

Oh well. This is your story, and you'll write the dialogue as you would like.

Good luck to you! *salutes* ;052;

 

[The Pokemon Master]

Sorry, no long first review this time. I've got a lot on my plate at the moment, so it'll be a simple review for now.

I kinda like the setup of this story, it's not something we see every day. A girl haunted by a memory of being raped, and a Hoppip that was treated quite brutally by its previous owner. I have a good sense of both of their backgrounds, which is nice, and I'm wondering what's going to happen to them. That photographic memory has to come in useful sometimes... Although when it gives you insomnia, it's probably a severe pain to have. No obvious errors that weren't pointed out already, and I'll be waitingg for the next Chapter!

Until we meet again...
;150;

 

[ShadowCloud62]

litestars: Yes, huge run-on. *is shot* Okay, I get shot too much...*is shot again* I apologize for the nudity, I believe it is necessary, especially to build up Nia's character.

Hanako Tabris: I apologize for the M-rated stuff. And the Hoppip dialogue. I need to work on actual Poke-speak.....^_^;;;

TPM: Ah-ha! I had a feeling you'd show up! *is shot for the millionth time* Thank you for the review. Again, I apologize for the nudity. I'm not getting into any more detail, though, I promise! *raises right hand* ....At least not until wayyyyy later on in the story *is shot*.

Man, I'd better hurry up and update or I'll be swiss cheese soon! *is shot*

 

[qwerqwer]

I;m a bit confused. What is happening is that a girl called Nia lives in library and has a photographic memory and remembers her geting raped hard by some loonatic and scout is a hoppip that was nia's only friend. How old is nia. It's important to know. Fill me in if i massed anything.

 

[ShadowCloud62]

I'm a bit confused. What is happening is that a girl called Nia lives in library and has a photographic memory and remembers her geting raped hard by some loonatic and scout is a hoppip that was nia's only friend. How old is nia. It's important to know. Fill me in if i massed anything.

I will confirm that Nia (currently) is sixteen. The next update will explain who she is and what exactly she does in the library. Next update will also elaborate on Scout and Nia's bond.

 

[ShadowCloud62]

Okay, sorry for the long wait, here's the next update!

Chapter Two
I Remember Hana

I rise from my bed like a zombie out of it's grave. Another sleepless night. This wasn't unusual for me anymore, I was so used to being awake that I forgot I needed sleep.

I walked towards my dresser and grabbed my hairbrush. I placed the brush in my hair, and yanked hard. "Ah!" I cringed. Knots were horrible, especially with my hair. My hair is long, Scout even made a proper measurement: two feet and four inches long, that's at least right above my rear. I always have to put my chestnut brown hair up in a ponytail before laying down or going to sleep. Unfortunately, I forgot last night.

I changed out of my white t-shirt and sky blue pajama pants. I ended up wearing my work outfit: a diginified businesswoman suit, a light brown, complete with a red bow tie. I put on my white socks and brown loafers, and finally--after a whole entire half hour--I managed to get my messy hair up in an extremely tight bun.

I tucked my yellow pencil behind my left ear, and walked towards the far corner of the room, where Scout was sleeping peacefully in the shadows.

Gently, I tapped her on the head, "Scout? Time to wake up."

Her eyes, the color of a sunrise, fluttered open, and she smiled softly, "Hophop." she said happily.

Hophop. That was Scout's way of saying my name. I couldn't help but smile at her, and I lifted her up so she rested on my head. "Ready to start a new day?" I asked.

"Hoppip!" Scout answered, suddenly wide awake.

***

"Miss Kiersten!"

Scout turns her small head my way as she continues to place the books in the proper shelves.

I roll my eyes and turn around to face a rather skinny, red-faced woman. Her hair is the same color as mine, a chestnut brown, except it's shorter, shoulder length. She was wearing the same ugly bright blood red lipstick and ridiculously blue eye shadow. Beyond the eye shadow, her eyes are the same color as my own, a light brown.

Sometimes, when I look at her, I can't believe this woman is my boss. She looks more like some cheesy part-time lawyer and also a part-time clown for a circus act, not a strict librarian.

"You're a half hour late and you live right upstairs! It's getting ridiculous, Kiersten!" she snapped, her voice like a knife piercing the quiet air, "Now you'll have to work extra hours tonight! Start filing overdue books and putting books away on the shelves, you're my assistant for a reason! Because I can depend on you! Well, how the **** am I supposed to depend on you when you're always ****ing late?!"

My boss always tends to say a terrible swear word every five minutes in a sentence. That's why she's best in only one state: when she's quiet.

I bow my head and lower my silver-rimmed glasses to the tip of my nose, "I'm sorry, Hana," I whisper, "I promise, I'll come in early tomorrow."

Hana rolled her eyes and grabbed my shoulder, "Look, Nia," she whispered feverishly, "I know you're still reeling from what happened, but it's been a full year already. You've got to get your head back in the game."

I sighed and looked away, removing my glasses and biting my lower lip. Hana seemed like a real itch sometimes (I don't wish to use the other word, as I am not a foul mouth like Hana), but deep down she truly cared about me. After all, she was the one who took me in and raised me like her own daughter. I do feel bad for her, though, as she has a husband and cannot have children. She never exactly told me why....

"Nia, I'll--talk to you later. Get back to work." Hana's brisk tone returned again as her eyes hardened and she stormed off, only to stop in front of two teenage boys and yell out, "And just where the hell do you think you're going with that book?! Do you even have your library card?!"

I smiled a little. Hana was the most outspoken woman I had ever met.

"Hoppiphop?" Scout jumped onto the table, where I was filling out a form to order new books for the mystery section.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Scout. Hana's just worried about me, that's all," I said, "hey, Scout, why don't you help Hana over there? I won't be done with these forms until possibly later this afternoon."

"Hop." And with that, Scout scurried off to help Hana by the door, who was still screaming at the two teenage boys who tried to steal a book, "I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT BEING QUIET, MY LIBRARY'S DIFFERENT! IF YOU'RE CAUGHT STEALING ANOTHER BOOK AGAIN, YOU'RE NOT COMING BACK IN HERE! AND WHY ARE YOU EVEN DOING IT, ANYWAY?! WHAT, YOU TWO BOYS AREN'T INTO VIDEO GAMES?!"

Hana was out of control, I couldn't help but giggle as I signed my name on the line. Nia Narusegawa Kiersten.

Hana had major anger problems, sometimes I wondered if she ever considered taking anger management. There were times when I'd walk in her room after a long day at work, and I'd see her husband watch her as she made pottery bowls to decorate the library. It was then I'd see her without makeup, her hair in a messy ponytail with a few loose strands coming out, and her eyes gleaming while she laughed at her husband's jokes. I'd usually smile. It was those many times when Hana's true beauty shone through. She really didn't need all that much makeup. And outside of the library, she was a beautiful person inside.

I remember seeing those many sights, and I'd truly appreciate Hana and even consider calling out, "Hey, Mom, done yet?!"

I never, ever called Hana by the name of Mom. Don't get me wrong, I love Hana nonetheless, I just can't bring myself to call her Mom.

Hana finished blowing the teenagers' eardrums out and she hurried to the desk, helping Scout let people take out books. Some children looked petrified, as if she'd scream at them the moment they handed her their library card.

My smile ends up widening, and I feel my lips crack. Ugh. I need to get lip balm.

My smile fades, and I sign my name on the next paper form.

I remember Scout.

I remember Hana.

And, to my dismay and horror, I still remember that day.







I know, I know, horrible chapter, however, you'll see more next chapter.

 

[The Dean of Suds]

This is............... creepy, to say the least. I love your writing style, but the whole storyline is extremely disturbing to me, with the rape, battered Hoppip, haunted girl, and the photographic memory just weirds me out. I think you have a special talent for writing, but I dislike your story.Sorry.

 

[The Great Butler]

I like it. I think it could use some improvement, yes, but it's working out okay so far. The story's brutal, yes, but I like it. It could end up being really good, I think.

 

[ShadowCloud62]

The Dean of Suds: *sigh* Hey, can't please everyone. The thing is, please yourself first....I think I did good with this story.

TGB: Yes, it is rather brutal. I'll admit I was a little shocked at first when I wrote the first chapter, I didn't think my mind would come up with something so dark and brutal. I'm still a little surprised at myself now.