I have a hereditary form of amnesia that skips generations. By the time they diagnosed me, I had only seven days left before everything would slip away. On the first day, my boyfriend confessed he’d fallen for my sister. I forced a smile and broke things off. On the second day, my sister smashed my prized LEGO collection. Everyone laughed, saying I was an embarrassment who didn’t deserve to be a Miller. By the fourth day, I’d forgotten my sister was allergic to mangoes and accidentally sent her to the hospital. My parents couldn’t even look at me, and my ex called me a heartless bitch. On the seventh day, I woke up in a hospital bed to find my father storming in, demanding I quit my job to become the family’s full-time caretaker. I just stared at them all, confused. “Who are you people?” I asked softly. When they realized I genuinely couldn’t remember anything, the whole family lost their minds. ***** Harris: [Ms. Miller, are you continuing your treatment? Don’t forget to pick up your prescription if you are.] Harris: [Ms. Miller, your condition is serious. Stopping medication will cause side effects. You absolutely cannot abandon treatment or you’ll lose all your memories within eight days.] I stared at Doctor Harris Clark’s messages for the longest time, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. In the end, I didn’t reply. Maybe getting amnesia wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to me. I’d been alive for years, and honestly? There wasn’t a single memory in my head worth fighting to keep. I stared at Harris’ earnest message on my screen for what felt like forever before slowly typing back: [Thanks, Dr. Clark, but I’ve already decided to give up.] After turning off my phone, I glanced at the calendar. Today marked six years since James Davenport and I had started dating. I’d been planning his anniversary gift for a whole month. A tie seemed too basic, shoes too impersonal. After endless deliberation, I’d dipped into my secret savings to buy him an expensive handcrafted watch. James worked at a Fortune 500 company where he constantly rubbed shoulders with loaded bigwigs. He needed something to help him look the part. Plus, I didn’t want my memory loss condition to drag him down anymore, so I’d decided to break up with him face-to-face. But when I arrived at the restaurant we’d agreed on, James was nowhere to be seen. I waited until the water in my glass turned cold before I finally spotted him rushing in, looking totally frazzled. “Feona, I’m so sorry! The office suddenly needed me to work late. I got here as fast as I could.” I took in his disheveled appearance and couldn’t miss the hint of a hickey peeking out from his collar. Something in my brain just snapped. “You—” I started to say, but before I could finish, James wiped the sweat from his forehead and handed me a small box, smiling warmly. “This is for you. Thanks for sticking with me these past six years.” I just stared at the box he handed me, feeling nothing—no excitement, no happiness. When I opened it, there was a gorgeous bracelet nestled inside. It looked incredibly expensive, with an intricately carved peony flower that seemed almost alive. All these little details suddenly clicked together in my mind like puzzle pieces, and I understood everything in an instant. I didn’t like peonies—my sister Tracy Miller did. The scales had started tipping in my sister’s favor three months ago when I first introduced her to James. Since then, everything had changed. He stopped caring about my feelings, from buying extra gifts that weren’t for me, to constantly bringing up Tracy’s name during our dates, and finally to leaving me behind while he walked side by side with her, laughing together. When exactly had he started falling for her instead? I’d been quiet too long. James looked at me nervously and asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” I forced a bitter smile onto my face. “James, let’s break up,” I said, my voice ice cold. James froze, his eyes filling with disbelief before he jumped to his feet in anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? What now?” he snapped, words rushing out. “Weren’t you the one crying about how nobody cared about you or remembered your special days? Weren’t you begging me to celebrate our anniversary together? And now what? You’re already bored of me? “I should’ve listened to your sister. I shouldn’t have wasted my time planning all these surprises for you! No wonder your family prefers Tracy—you don’t even come close to measuring up to her!” His words came out like bullets as he slammed his glass down on the table, still breathing hard after his angry tirade. I stared into James’ eyes, frozen in place. So this was what he looked like when he lost his cool—just another angry guy with a temper, no different from anyone else. “James,” I said quietly, “was your big surprise really just giving me the same gift Tracy wanted?” He froze, his head snapping up to look at me with the most complicated expression I’d ever seen on his face. His eyes couldn’t meet mine. “So you’re breaking up with me because you don’t like the gift?” he stammered. “If you didn’t like it, you could’ve just said so instead of making this huge deal out of nothing.” He nervously grabbed the box back and stuffed it into the shopping bag like it was evidence he needed to hide. “I can get you something else, no problem. And we can just pretend you never mentioned breaking up. “You’re too old to be playing games with your future like this.” I watched his guilty eyes and obvious attempt to cover up. Something inside me was crumbling away. On the very day I’d decided to stop my treatment, I’d been worried about how James would feel about my memory loss. I wanted to be honest with him, to wish him happiness. But he hadn’t even noticed anything weird about me these past few days. His mind was already half-occupied with that girl he’d only known for three months. He was barely present when talking to me. Did someone like that really deserve my consideration anymore?
It was already super late when I got home. I barely managed to wash up before collapsing into bed, where I spent the entire night trapped in painful, bizarre dreams. When I finally woke up, birds were chirping outside my window. It was the start of a new day—and day six in my countdown to complete memory loss. The moment I got out of bed, a dull headache started pounding behind my eyes, along with a slight fever. I stumbled downstairs, feeling like absolute garbage, hoping to make some cold medicine. But before I even reached the bottom step, I saw my massive LEGO creation—the one I’d deliberately placed in the living room—knocked over, with pieces scattered everywhere. Tracy stood there looking smug, her eyes full of challenge. “Oops, sorry, Feona,” she said with fake concern. “Your thing was in the way. I didn’t see it and accidentally kicked it over.” I stared in shock at the model I’d spent three painstaking months building, now completely destroyed. My eyes started to burn with tears. This wasn’t just any LEGO set—it was the only gift my mom had ever given me. I was raised by my grandmother from birth. My sister and I are twins, though I’m older by just five minutes. When we were born, our parents’ business was taking off, and they couldn’t handle raising two babies at once. So they made the decision to send one of us to live with my grandma in the countryside. I was the one they sent away. For eighteen whole years, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen my parents. To make up for it, my mom bought me a giant LEGO set for my eighth birthday. I was over the moon about it and assembled it with total dedication. I kept it where it would be the first thing I’d see every morning when I came downstairs. Like an idiot, I’d daydream about how perfect life would be once I finally got to live with my parents again. But that day never came. It wasn’t until three months ago when my grandma passed away that my parents finally remembered they had a child abandoned in the countryside and were forced to bring me home. I carefully carried my treasured LEGO set to my new home, thinking my mom would recognize the gift she’d once given me. Instead, she wrinkled her nose in disgust and muttered, “What are you carrying that piece of junk for? It’s going to take up so much space…” I froze, staring at this woman who was supposed to be my mother but felt like a complete stranger. That was when it hit me—the family warmth I’d been dreaming about for eighteen years might never actually be mine. I just stood there speechless while my mom, Elizabeth Miller, busy in the kitchen, heard Tracy’s apology and poked her head out. She shrugged it off, telling her, “Don’t worry about her, Tracy. That stuff costs practically nothing. No need to apologize if it breaks.” My dad, Kevin Miller, who hadn’t even looked up from his newspaper, nodded in agreement. He barely glanced at me, his face showing nothing but annoyance. “Your mom’s right. She’s definitely from the countryside, treating that junk like treasure. It’s embarrassing to even have it in our living room.” With that, he went back to his paper, like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. Tracy snuggled up to Elizabeth, playing up the victim as she whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” “There’s nothing to apologize for. Just call the maid to clean it up,” Kevin replied without bothering to look up. The three of them walked out of the living room together, leaving me with nothing but their cold backs as they disappeared. They seemed to forget I was their daughter too. Tracy and I were the same age, with identical looks, the same height, and even similar voices. Yet for some reason, they adored Tracy and couldn’t care less about me. My foggy brain didn’t want to form another word, so I shuffled to the kitchen in my slippers, found a pack of cold medicine that hadn’t expired yet, and washed it down with water. Tracy lounged on the couch, slippers dangling off her feet, her face lit up with a smile as she texted someone. Mid-conversation, she suddenly tapped on a voice message, and James’ voice pierced my ears. “Don’t be upset, Tracy. Feona never listens anyway—it’s her fault for not putting away that LEGO set properly. Just hang on, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you properly later.” His voice boomed through the huge living room from her phone’s cranked-up volume. Tracy shot me a smug look, then brought the phone to her lips and replied in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Don’t worry about it, James! I wasn’t even mad. Feona doesn’t need to apologize.” I watched her contemptuous posture and that self-satisfied tone, feeling nothing but ice in my veins. It was fine. Whatever. I’d already given up fighting my illness. Once these seven days were over, I wouldn’t remember all these painful moments anymore, and Tracy’s provocations wouldn’t hurt me anymore. For the first time ever, I found myself desperately counting down to day seven.
By day four of the countdown, my memory had started to slip. I kept forgetting what I’d just been doing or what I’d planned to do next. Several times throughout the day, I’d find myself just standing frozen in place, completely zoned out. With effort, I finally remembered something important today—I needed to collect the LEGO set that Tracy had broken. Even though I’d given up on having any real family warmth around here, that LEGO set was special. Grandma had helped me build it, and it was one of my most precious memories with her. No way was I letting them throw away my memories of my grandma like they were trash. I rushed downstairs and spotted the pieces still scattered across the living room floor, untouched. That was when it hit me—our housekeeper had taken time off recently, which explained why nobody had cleaned up the mess. I quickly grabbed a small box and started picking up the LEGO pieces one by one from the floor. The set had shattered into so many tiny fragments that I’d only collected about half of them when Elizabeth walked in the door and caught me crouched on the floor. Her forehead immediately creased with disapproval. “What are you doing down there on the floor like that?” she snapped. “You don’t look anything like a proper young lady! How am I supposed to introduce you as a Miller family daughter to anyone? “This is what happens when you’re raised in the middle of nowhere. Your grandma completely ruined your upbringing!” My hands froze mid-pickup. I took a deep breath and waited for the hurt to subside before I quietly went back to collecting the scattered pieces from the floor. I knew the LEGO set was beyond repair after that fall, but I still wanted to keep the pieces as a memento. So I knelt down, carefully collecting every broken fragment from the floor. Elizabeth tossed whatever she was holding onto the couch with an irritated huff. “Are you even listening to me?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Why can’t you be more like your sister and stop causing problems for once?” I’d just spotted the final piece and was reaching for it when Elizabeth’s foot came down hard, crushing it beneath her shoe. She glared down at me, her expression dark. “Tomorrow is your sister’s birthday. You’re going to bake her a cake yourself as an apology. Don’t ruin her day.” Elizabeth glanced at the LEGO piece under her foot like it was actual trash. “It’s just a stupid toy. Sweep it up and throw it away. What are you doing wasting time on this? Do you expect us to support you forever?” I stared at the LEGO piece—now dirty from her shoe—and felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Looking up at my mother’s annoyed expression, I let out a bitter laugh. “Mom, Tracy and I are twins. Her birthday is my birthday too.” Elizabeth’s face flickered with momentary panic as I continued, “That LEGO set you’re stepping on? It’s the only gift you’ve given me in eighteen years. Grandma raised me because you and Dad didn’t have the energy for a second child, so you handed me off to her. “Grandma didn’t raise me wrong. She was the best grandmother anyone could ask for. And I don’t think there’s anything about me that makes me unworthy of being your daughter.” Elizabeth couldn’t look me in the eye. She quickly pulled her foot back, revealing the last broken LEGO piece beneath her shoe. Without a word, I reached down and grabbed it, adding it to the pile of fragments already in the box. When I looked up, Elizabeth was still avoiding my gaze. “It’s just a stupid LEGO set, okay?” she snapped. “Go make your sister’s birthday cake like you’re supposed to. I’ll buy you a new one later.” Right, my parents had plenty of money now—they could buy me a hundred LEGO sets if they wanted. But apparently, I wasn’t important enough for them to let me share a birthday celebration with Tracy. I closed the box without another word and carried it upstairs, my chest tight with everything I couldn’t say. Elizabeth never mentioned buying me a replacement LEGO set, and honestly, I hadn’t expected her to keep that promise anyway. By the third day of the countdown, I was starting to forget things. That morning, I spotted the box of broken LEGO pieces on my bookshelf and just stared at it, trying to remember why they were there. Nothing came to mind. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t recall what had happened to them. Something in my gut told me they mattered—that they were important somehow. But if they were so damn important, why had I smashed them to pieces in the first place? If something broke so easily, maybe it wasn’t all that important anyway, right? I dumped the box of scattered LEGO pieces into the trash can outside our door and headed back to the kitchen to tackle tonight’s dinner. Tracy’s birthday was today, and Elizabeth had asked me to stay home and cook while she and Kevin took Tracy to the mall for gift shopping. It was already 8 PM when Tracy and my parents were back. I had just placed the cake I’d made on the dining table when I looked up and froze. James was with them, arms loaded with shopping bags, his eyes fixed on Tracy with that soft look he gets. He didn’t even notice me standing there at the table, feeling like complete trash. Something twisted in my chest. I dropped my gaze and silently untied my apron. Kevin shrugged off his jacket and plopped down in a chair. “I asked you to make a cake, not a whole feast,” he complained. “Such a waste if we can’t finish all this.” I paused mid-fold with the apron but kept my mouth shut. Tracy smirked as she dug through her pile of presents, casually tossing a small box my way. “Happy birthday, Feona,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. I opened it and immediately recognized the earrings inside. They were freebies from some luxury clothing brand—nothing special, just basic studs they hand out as promotional items. I forced the corners of my mouth up into what probably looked like a grimace and pushed the box back toward her. “No thanks,” I said. “I stopped celebrating birthdays a long time ago.” “Just take it, alright? Tracy picked this gift out for you specially at the mall.” James frowned, clearly annoyed as he pulled out a chair for Tracy. “Here, Tracy.” Tracy settled into her seat with a smug smile, her challenging stare fixed on me the entire time. Elizabeth jumped right in, cutting a slice of cake and sliding it in front of Tracy. After just one tiny bite, Tracy let out a blood-curdling scream and knocked the entire plate to the floor. “There’s mango in this!” she shrieked, immediately starting to gag and retch. Elizabeth rushed over to check on her, roughly shoving me aside. “Your sister is allergic to mangoes, you idiot! Why would you put mango in the cake? Were you trying to kill her or something?” The force of her push sent me stumbling backward until my lower back slammed against the corner of the table. The pain was so intense my face went completely white. “No, I… I just forgot… I didn’t mean to…” I stammered, trying desperately to explain myself. But nobody was listening. The room had erupted into total chaos. “Feona, you need to get on your knees and beg for Tracy’s forgiveness!” James roared, glaring at me like I was a complete stranger. “What the hell is wrong with you? Her allergies could literally kill her! How can you be so goddamn heartless?” Everyone stared at me with pure accusation in their eyes. I felt tears welling up as panic took over. I wanted to explain, to defend myself, but the words wouldn’t come. The air felt thinner and thinner, like I was drowning. All their faces started to blur, like I was looking at them through murky water. Everything went muffled and hazy. I barely registered Kevin and Elizabeth rushing Tracy to the hospital, or James running to get the car. The last thing I caught before he left was him pointing his finger in my face, still hurling insults at me until the very last second. My vision started swimming, and once everyone had cleared out, my body finally gave up. I crashed to the floor with a sickening thud. I was out cold for two days straight. No clue who dragged me to the hospital, but here I was, sprawled across a bed in the inpatient ward. The sharp smell of disinfectant filled my lungs, and weirdly enough, I felt a strange sense of peace wash over me. That peace didn’t last long. The commotion erupted in the hallway before the door burst open, kicked in by a middle-aged man. The nurse on duty got shoved aside, still trying to do her job as she protested, “The patient needs rest! You can’t just barge in here—” But the man cut her off before she could finish. “Your sister’s been in the hospital for two days, and what do you do? Fake being sick so you can lie around in here without even checking on her once! How did we end up with such an ungrateful daughter?” Behind him stood a haggard-looking middle-aged woman and a younger guy. I stared at all three of them, completely blank. I had zero idea who these people were. The middle-aged man glared at me coldly. “Get up right now. You’re quitting that job of yours. Your mother hasn’t been well lately, so you’re staying home to take care of her.” “And in a few days,” he continued, “we’re arranging a marriage for you. After that, you’ll just stay at home where you belong.” I kept staring at this man who wouldn’t stop talking, plus the two strangers hovering behind him. After what felt like forever, I finally found my voice and asked quietly, “Who are you people?”
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