Part 1: The Memory

Some things people say, stay with us for a lifetime. Perhaps it's because the ideas or messages they wish to convey in that moment, hold such significant meaning to us, that they actually break through the various inner shields we cover ourselves with, and embed themselves deep into our souls forever. For each and every one of us, we are formed by such moments, and this was one for me.

"The individual experience can be summed up in all but one word. Can anyone guess what that word is?"

It was something I heard in a lecture on 'Individual consciousness'. At the time, I regarded the topic with much scepticism, but, since I had a profound crush on the guest lecturer, Dr Michael Holmes I decided I would attend with a few friends. Due to following him on social media and watching recordings of his talks for years I expected the lecture to be good. But 'good' does not do justice to what I actually witnessed that day.

There's an indescribable presence he gives off that one only notices in-person. The way he walks with grandeur, captivates an audience with the dynamics of his voice and communicates ideas through perfectly calibrated hand gestures to accompany his words, as if playing a complicated instrument; Dr Holmes was a master of owning the room.

I clearly remember what happened immediately after Dr Holmes posed his question to the audience at the beginning of the talk. At first there was silence, as people gathered their thoughts; then a cluster of chatter as if the audience were a very monotone, unsynchronised choir; and then finally: the responses.

"Unique!" shouted an audience member with a profound confidence. Dr Holmes did not respond right away, instead he just lulled a low, listening "Hm" and paced around the stage with his arms wrapped behind his back. Immediately other members of the crowd started to vocally pounce on our visiting lecturer.

"Ignorance!"

"Struggle!"

But non of these resonated with the Doctor. Perhaps due to the excitement emanating from the audience, as more and more joined in with their responses, a fire was lit inside me and I felt an unusual desire to interject myself into the conversation. I had an idea as to the answer he was looking for.

"Memory!" I shouted, managing to squish all the other voices in the room. I saw the professor's ears twitch and covered my mouth, embarrassed as he looked directly at me with a blank expression.

"Had I been wrong?" I asked myself and looked away from him quickly and towards the floor.

I then heard him shout:

"Miss, what is your name?"

My heart stopped and anxious thoughts, that had started to trickle into my mind, now flooded in. Why single me out? Does he think I am an idiot? Have I made a fool of myself?

Despite not being in the correct frame of mind to respond, I reluctantly resumed eye contact with the professor.

"Annabelle Winters." I responded, finding my voice. The professor no longer had a blank expression and was instead smiling.

"You pass." he responded with a cheeky smile, before shrugging his arms and saying "Or at least... I would say if you had been in my class. That was exactly the answer I was looking for Annabelle. Well done!"

I've never felt so relieved.

"Yes, that's exactly correct." He said with vigour and began to pace around the stage once more, animating his arms as he spoke. "Fundamentally, people... individuals... are only who they are because of the collection of memories they contain. The whole basis of our identities, could be said to be formed by our unique past experiences. Like a predictive mathematical model, prior successful habits and behaviours indicate how we should act in the future. They work for us, thus we continue to rely upon them. As our memories are updated and we gain new experiences, we can change. What are we humans, if not just a consequence of our own memories?"

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬?"

*************

Part 2: The Diary

Entry 1:

I'm finally home... I just wish it all didn't seem so foreign to me now. After the hijacking of my HUB I have no memories of me left. It's a curious experience, feeling like you're just a hollow shell. It's as if all that I am right now is a body, soldering on and continuing life for the sake of simply existing. I am now without history nor purpose and it has created an overwhelming emptiness inside that I hope will ease in time.

I'm grateful that I at least have some awareness due to the HUB retaining very basic, factual information as a backup. I can remember objects for example, like a pen and pencil, I can remember how to write and work with numbers, and I can even remember types of societal roles like a policeman, doctor or nurse. But memories pertaining to myself... are non-existent.

The doctors said that it would have been possible to restore me had my 'anchor', a memory which holds my complete sense of self, not been stolen as well... but it was. Eviscerated as if it never existed.

I am curious as to what memory my 'other' selected for their anchor. Was it a happy memory like a wedding (am I married?), or a childhood memory (do I have kids?) of great importance or something else altogether? I guess I'll never know and even if I did, I doubt it would mean anything to me now. That ship to recover myself has now sailed with the HUB rebooting.

I am unsure where to go from here. The girl Hannah, who found me in the vegetative state, said we should catch up over tea tomorrow. Although she called me her friend, I see her as nothing but a stranger; and without any idea of who I even am now, is it possible that we can remain friends?

Entry 2:

It was a pleasant time at the café today with Hannah. She's an incredibly funny girl, I guess we must not have met up in ages because my chest was aching by the end! Despite seeming normal she had the wildest suggestion... she suggested I access MemStore through the VR interface of my HUB.

"If you don't have any memories of your own, let's just buy you some new one's!" I can't believe she said that and so optimistically as well.

Although I have no memory of the hijacking, an unease lingers within me when I even think about using the HUB. It scares me to think that this current iteration of me might be wiped from existence if such an incident happened again. Now that 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, I want to stay...

𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒐!

Entry 3:

The words that Hannah said to me have loomed over me all day like the dark clouds outside my window. And, the funny thing is, I feel relieved having listened to her.

I managed to access the MemStore easily enough and started exploring the various memories up for sale. I purchased a few using my credits and was amazed at how fascinating it was to see life through the eyes of another.

Some memories I saw were of special occasions like a child's birthday, other's were just funny events with friends and others were deep and reflective.

All these emotions I'm now feeling, I wonder if something special will activate in me if I see one of my own memories? Would it act as a trigger like with some amnesia patients and everything will come flooding back to me, or will I be unaffected?

In some ways, I want to recover my old self... out of curiosity more than anything. As my new sense of self is starting to develop, I wonder how similar I am to my previous incarnation. If we're the same, recovering my old memories can only help. If we're complete opposites.... I dread to think....

Entry 4:

I've made an important decision today! It's time to reinvent myself!

I don't think you're supposed to purchase a memory to be your anchor, but, seeing as I don't have one anymore, I don't see the harm. If I'm going to define this new identity of mine, it should be through my own choice!

Entry 101:

It's been some time now since I started hunting for an anchor memory and I've finally decided on one.

The emptiness within me that accompanied the aftermath of the hijacking has dissipated. There are still cracks, like a broken mug glued back together, but otherwise I feel that I have solidified this new identity of mine.

The memory I have chosen may seem odd to others, but I knew deep in my core that it was the one for me.

I wonder what it was about that memory of a lecture. Was it the way the man on stage carried himself with such grandeur and elegance while speaking ,or was it simply the words he said I related to so deeply?

Perhaps due to my hijacking, I felt a connection to each phrase, each sentence that was uttered by him and realised that this memory, would be my anchor. It is a memory that truly contains me, an identity based around moving forward. I may no longer be the person I once was and I've come to accept and be content with that fact. I am now she who moves forward, no matter the past.

From now on I shall be known as "Annabelle Winters". Although I wasn't her in my past life, who's to say I can't become her from now on?

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬?"

End