I was that quiet girl in the back of the class.

I watched. I listened. I could feel my brain tense and absorb what I would forget years later.

This face belongs to this name. But what color were their eyes?

Remember the date of the death of a man who I will never meet, but long to.

What was his most cherished memory?


I wanted to be her.


My subconsious controls the conscious memories I mentally concoct in my dreams. Why can I remember these now while I can't even remember my homework?

What happened to the girl in the back of the class?

Listening. Watching. Remembering dates, faces, names, colors, numbers, signs, places, books, words, memories.

I don't remember.


I want to be her. Still.


My dreams are more pertinent, more lasting than the reality. Why?

Lucid dreams.

I can control you.


I'll make up a name and match it to a face. I'll fly away. I'll become what no one will ever suspect, and succeed.


I remember my dreams. I remember every face, every name, every voice, every word.

But why can't I remember my homework?

I remember who I loved. But in my dreams...



I can't.


The girl in the back of the class. Why can't I remember her anymore?

In the dreams...

She's grown up now.

Every day is a dream. I remember my dreams. I remember

When I was that girl, did I dream about me? About who I would be years later? I dream about who I was, but what about what I would become?


I miss remembering those faces, names, dates.

But, everyone has to grow up.

Everyone has to wake up. Sometime.