I Lost My Memory

I encountered the man from my dreams in reality.

But he had already passed away.

The psychic said this was an ominous sign.

I didn't believe it, yet after that day, I realized his prediction was spot on...

01

I was a mortician, always working the night shift.

That night, I encountered something strange.

The funeral home I worked for received a man who had died in a major car accident.

Unlike other deceased individuals, only one person delivered him over.

It was a tall woman.

She refused to have other morticians handle him, specifically requesting that I perform the body repairs.

I found her a bit odd, but since I worked in a crematorium, encountering a few peculiar people was not unusual.

Initially, I didn't care at all until she stopped me.

She looked at me with hostility and said, "His name is Calvin Shepard. Don't you remember him at all?"

02

Calvin Shepard.

I couldn't deny that hearing this name put me in a daze

It was the name of the man from my dreams.

My hand clenched tightly the side of my pants. If I weren't wearing a mask, the tall woman would surely see the terror on my face.

Instinctively, I glanced at the bed.

The man's right eye was destroyed, his chest covered in blood, the cuffs of his blue shirt washed to a pale hue, and he wore no shoes. A large patch of skin was missing from his right foot, making his body look gruesome.

Yet, for some reason, I felt that this was the man who had appeared in my dreams multiple times.

Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine.

I actually had dreamt of being intimate with a dead man.

03

"I'm talking to you. Why don't you answer me?" The woman's voice tinged with impatience rang out, snapping me back to reality.

I looked up at her and asked, puzzled, "Why are you so hostile towards me? I believe it's the first time we met."

"The first time? How dare you still play dumb? You bitch!" Her words were harsh, but I truly couldn't understand when or where I had offended her.

"Miss, I need to work. I'll be leaving now." I tried to push the bed away, unwilling to argue further with a lunatic.

But she was relentless. In a flash, she pulled out a wallet from her pocket and opened it, holding it up to me. "Look! Don't tell me you can't even recognize yourself?"

04

I immediately saw the photo tucked inside the wallet.

It was a group photo.

The boy in the picture was looking sideways, a smile on his face, his eyes filled with gentle affection.

On the other side, the girl he was holding was none other than me.

Seeing that photo sent another chill down my spine.

The girl in the photo was indeed me, but judging by my attire and appearance, I realized it was me during my university days.

For a while, I desperately racked my brain to recall, but I still couldn't remember why I had taken such a photo with Calvin.

In my memory, Calvin didn't even exist during my university years.

What exactly was going on?

Could it be that I already knew Calvin before my dreams about him?

05

"If you know what happened, just spit it out." Like a chicken with its head cut off, I was clueless and could only seek the truth from the woman in front of me.

But upon seeing my anxious expression, she deliberately put the wallet aside.

As she did so, I saw a gleam of satisfaction on her face.

"Do you want to know?" she said through gritted teeth. "The more eagerly you want to know, the longer I'll keep it a secret from you. Penelope Hansen, you deserve to be fooled by everyone around you. You deserve to go to hell."

How did she know my name?

I looked at her with a puzzled expression.

But before I could ask about it, she pulled out a knife from behind and lunged at me.

06

As she swung the knife at me, I dodged swiftly.

But she seemed deranged, brandishing the knife and shouting, "Why is it you who forgot everything!? Why can you live such a good life? You should go to hell. You should die. Calvin shouldn't have died. It should have been you."

She charged at me with all her might, and I dodged with all mine.

We caused such a commotion that all my colleagues rushed over.

A few male colleagues stepped forward, kicked the knife out of her hand, and pinned her down.

"Are you out of your mind!?" someone scolded her, but she seemed oblivious to it, her eyes fixed solely on me.

I could see the fury and murderous intent in her eyes.

That look sent shivers down my spine.

It was as if she was telling me with her eyes that she was here for revenge because I had killed the man she loved.