Memory

By Ror Anders dos Santos

Section A 

Agatha was used to the winter. However, the frost and utter coldness that  scattered through Alaska during the January morning assured every inch of her body  that there would be no going out that Thursday. The recently boiled tea struck comfort  through cold hands. Such could be said specially then, that the weather was harsher  than ever before. The dying fire presented a comforting sense of grounding, with its  striking warm tones fighting for further expansion. The low sound of someone entering  the room burst her character with eagerness, as the morning, although cold, was too  lovely to be spent confined.  

“Oh James, are you positive I shall not leave to the garden today? You know I’m used to  the winter!” advocates the girl, with her big warm pupils and smiling face posing a  cheerful threat to James, daring the butler to deny her wishes.  

“Sorry, it is not up to me” laughs the boy, with a genuine sadness in his dark brown eyes  that confused Agatha’s tired mind; resulted from a lack of sunlight.  

“Can I at least read to my son for a while? The clock is striking almost noon already, he  should be awake at this point. Please bring me my child” insisted the girl, with a rush of  joy passing through the thoughts of her two-year-old laying in his crib. 

“Jame’s asleep still, but I can awake him if that is your wish madam.” stated the  doppelganger. 

“No, it’s quite alright James, let the child sleep for a little longer. He needs the rest.”  says Agatha, slightly disappointed for the unconsciously asleep state of her son; but  truly acknowledging his young body’s need for good rest. “I shall be left alone, James,  I’d like to read myself until my baby is awake.” 

For what felt like ages, Agatha read, pausing occasionally to look at the spiralling snow flakes falling from the adjacent window. The harsh weather sprung recent  memories from her life, with her husband adoring the snow. Leonard was away, for  work matters. As she was told, the reality of a police man required him to indulge on  travels, every month or so. After being away from him for what felt like at least a month  now, she couldn’t bear the boredom the situation imposed. With her insides twisting,  and her novel looking unappealing as a result from immersing in its story for the past  hours, the exciting idea of writing her husband a letter fizzled her insides again. After  finding herself some pen and paper, the idea seemed better at every second. A  prewriting state set in her, as what was one supposed to say in a letter, after a month of 

no speaking? The engaging questions she possessed about her husband’s travels filled  the content of the piece of stained paper. Even though he did not use to travel on work  very often hitherto, his now adventures filled her soul with exciting questions and  curiosities. The letter now completed, a piece of crimson wax was slowly melted, and  pressed carefully into the old paper. Now all that had to be done was giving the letter to  the house butler, as he was in charge of such chores. 

“Hey James! Can you post this letter in the mail today? I haven’t heard from Leonard yet  since he left for Florida earlier, what was it, this week?” shouted Agatha, with the  excitement of conversing with her husband racing her mind. 

“James?” 

“James!”  

“Oh, there you are James. Could you maybe... allow me to leave the house today?” said  Agatha “I am used to the winter.” 

Section B 

The process of writing the story derived from the initial planning stage, as I was  aware of my wish to twist the sense of memory, into a lack of so. The planning stage  derived me into the decisions of creation of a build up into a plot twist, with its  implications being subtly forged. Quotes such as “advocates the girl, with her big warm  pupils and smiling face” and “burst her character with eagerness” leave in the reader a  false impression that the character is much younger; much too young to not possess a sharp mind and memory. The sadness in the character states at the “butler” might  provide the reader with an initial sense of unsettledness, enhanced by the discovery  that he possesses the same name as the main character’s son. The story was intended  from a third person point of view, to enhance the plot twist presented in the end; one of  the main character being implied to carry Alzheimer's disease. The third person and  intentional unreliable narrator removes the reader from being directly faced with the  character’s point of view and reality, resulting in a more subtle foreshadowing. With the  character believing her husband was away on a work trip, I implemented very subtle foreshadowing techniques, such as her husband being a police man, who usually  would just work in their city’s local station. The lack of a career that requires travelling,  her “butler” being addressed by the narrators her son’s “doppelganger” and possessing the same name, implies that a long time has passed since Agatha truly had a two-year old son. The choice of the main character first stating “what felt like months” regarding 

her husband’s work and later on stating “I haven’t heard from Leonard yet since he left  for Florida earlier, what was it, this week?” allows for the reader to absolve the subtle  hints that the character lost her memory; and sense of time. My inspirations for this  story lied in Alzheimer patients, and the sudden reality shock of living stuck in time, with  memories fading away. The sudden burst in the slow building plot twist was written to  portray to the reader the reality of the character's disease as slow, but sudden.  Character such as the “butler” are left as implications to the reader, as to whether that  is the main character’s son, or simply the house’s butler.

By Ror Anders dos Santos