Memories. The twisted currency of our world.

I was born in the slums of the earth. Both Mum and Pop owed money to multiple gangs through gambling, so the rival gangs teamed up just to rob them of everything. All of their memories, leaving them as shells, husks of who they were.

I wish they had taken me too.

***

At the age of six, I realized something was very wrong.

Having been taken into an orphanage owned the government after my parents’ “death”, I grew up there. It was spectacular! We got to eat as much as we wanted, play games whenever we wanted. Even the nannies were smiling.

But then I saw a boy, sixteen, follow a nanny out a back door. I didn’t follow them; I didn’t want to get in trouble and it was nap time anyway. So I just closed my eyes and went to sleep.

I searched for the boy the next day. I couldn’t find him anywhere. Almost like he disappeared.

I didn’t question it again for a few years, but something around me just…shifted. I knew that everything wasn’t as it seemed.

Now when I turned 10, we had a new transfer join us. Her name was Edith, bright eyes and pale skin, age 15, and she became my best friend within seconds of meeting.

After a few weeks, when I knew that I could trust her, I told her what I had seen. We were in our dorms at the time.

Edith stared at me for a moment, then her eyes went flat. “I suspected it was something like that.”

“What do you mean,” I asked, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

Edith scooted closer to me. “Can you keep a secret?” I nodded. “Well,” she continued, “You know how you get these amazing things.”

“Yes.”

“Memories, in the world outside of here, are used as currency.”

“Money.”

Edith nodded. “Yes, the rich are rich with memories, and the poor have to sell their memories just to get food for themselves. There are many problems in our society, but the main one is: where do the rich get so many memories?”

I blinked. Then realized. “Oh, oh no.” My breathing came into gasps. “That can’t be it!”

Edith leaned back away from me, prodding her lip, unfazed but instead with a thoughtful expression on her face. “The Underground didn’t think so as well, but just to make sure they sent me here to check. And what you said just clarified our—Nemo, are you alright?”

They give us all these good things so we have all happy moments in our head, then they suck it all away? That had to be it. I was utterly terrified! Was I going to end up like my parents? Was I going to DIE?!

“Nemo, calm down. The Underground is going to stop this, alright?” Edith failed at reassurance and I started crying. “Oh, man, uhh—“

“Edith Haver…Nemo Carperter….”

Edith and I froze, but my tears continued to flow.

Behind us was a nanny. “Your conversation was very, troubling. The Head Nanny wishes to see you.”

A single tear fell from my shaking cheek. Death never seemed so close.

But that wasn’t the end. No, it was only my beginning.

——

_(Listening to “Remains of the Day” and “Shia LaBeouf” very good for the mood. Anyways, my hands hurt. I’ll finsh it later. Thanks for reading and have a great day!) _