Adela Constantinescu

Memoria: protect your memories forever! Enhances mental recall. Always read the label and follow instructions for use. Swallow one tablet whole. Do not use more than one tablet a week. Do not take alcoholic beverages while taking Memoria. Keep out of reach of children. 

Warning: do not exceed the recommended dose. Side-effects may include: dizziness, nausea, insomnia, addiction, or suicide.

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   “Well, that's encouraging.” 

Daisy is sitting down, legs crossed on the cold blue tiles of her bathroom as she reads the back of a small paper box. She opens it gently, letting out a sigh. Inside it, she finds a blister foil containing five pills. She sticks her nail in one of the cavities and breaks the aluminium, revealing a round blue pill with a red triangle in the middle. The triangle carries the brand name in italics: Memoria. After studying its logo, she pushes the capsule out and plays with it between her fingers.

Her phone starts vibrating on the edge of the marble sink and Daisy reaches out a hand above her head, grabs the phone and picks up.  

“Have you taken it yet?” squeaks the excited voice on the other end, belonging to Daisy’s friend.  

“No, not yet.” Daisy drags her body up from the floor. 

“I still can’t believe you’ve never tried Memoria before!” 

“When’s the last time you took one?” asks Daisy, ignoring Molly’s remark.  

She now studies her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, and the bags under them are heavy.  

“Like, two weeks ago?” Molly pauses, humming. “I re-lived my wedding day. My psychiatrist suggested a happy memory.”  

Daisy rubs at her eyes absentmindedly, as she listens to Molly recalling the memory of her wedding day. The recent affair was opulent, to say the least. A hundred guests, black tie, but all Daisy cared about that day was Drew. The day she finally got to show off her plus one to all her friends. 

Ever since she could remember, Daisy wanted a boyfriend. When she was seven, the meaning of the word was not entirely clear to her, but she knew it meant something more than a friend. She had heard her babysitter rave about hers many times. And because her single mom worked late nights, little Daisy spent a lot of time hearing about boy drama.

When she was eighteen, Daisy was at a sleepover with four girls. It was late at night, and they were playing a game of Never Have I Ever, when one of the girls announced: “Never have I ever had a serious boyfriend.” Daisy was the only one who did not take a sip. She wished she could have lied, but the girls knew the truth already. She finished high school without having her first kiss.

When Daisy was twenty-four, she met Drew. He was thirty, handsome, well-travelled. They met in a restaurant, he struck up a conversation with her at the bar. She was simply over the moon. After five dates, three long phone calls, and endless make-out sessions, they became official, and so Daisy was able to finally announce to her friends that she had found a boyfriend.

“…and I really think re-living a happy memory of your mom will help you guys reconnect. Memoria really helped me with my depression.”  

Upon hearing the word mom, the now twenty-five-year-old Daisy snaps out of her Drew daze, as a memory of her estranged mother in a hospital gown flashes before her eyes.

“…Thank you, Molly,” says Daisy, clearing her throat. “And...you didn’t tell your psychiatrist about this, right? I don’t want you to get in trouble.”  

“No, of course not. And don’t worry about returning the box, I have enough! But please, don’t try it more than once a week.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” 

There is a pause on the other end of the phone call. 

“Seeing your mom again is good, Daisy. Especially after Drew,” says Molly, as she breaks the silence. Daisy bites her lip as her friend continues: “I just want you to be happy again. Really.”  

Just as they say their goodbyes, a surge of blue light enters through the window above the bathtub. Daisy glances outside, where a gigantic holographic advertisement floods the front of the neighbouring building with what appears to be ocean blue water. As the digital wave washes over the concrete wall, the logo of Memoria appears engraved in sand. Under it, the commercial highlights the words “number one” in neon letters.

“ Protect your precious memories forever!” Daisy scoffs.

She turns her attention back to the pill, now warm and mellow between her fingers. As she opens the sink faucet and lets the water flow, she pops the tablet in her mouth. She hesitates for a couple of seconds, then leans her head over the sink, takes a big sip, and finally swallows.

The humming sound of water gets louder as the sink keeps running, and the bathtub fills up. Daisy now lets her shorts fall to the ground and drags her hoodie above her head. The movement fills up her nostrils with Drew’s cologne. She buries her face in the fabric, sniffing the faint traces of lemon left behind from months prior. The smell brings a wistful feeling mixed with comfort. She finally lets the hoodie go and now bare, she slips into the bathtub, letting the hot water engulf her.

A wave of panic suddenly sets over her body. The pill can start working at any moment, but she cannot make up her mind about which memory of Drew she wants to re-live. She closes her eyes and tries to conjure the image of his face in her mind. She sets her left palm under her breast, trying to slow down her heartbeat. His blue eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his skin, all take shape under her eyelids. His image brings ache, but she tries to brush it off. She must, for the memory to last as long as possible.

Her body suddenly shivers in the water, and she uses her free hand to steady herself. Her mind feels foggy, and she feels she is about to faint. Her eyes close shut and then, in an instant, Daisy is not in her skin anymore.

She opens her eyes to see a living room. His living room, his brown leather couch. Her body feels heavy and foreign as she tries to move her arms and legs to no avail. She cannot even move her gaze, her eyes set on the television and her fingers moving on the remote as if having a mind of their own.

The words spill out of her mouth before she can stop them: “What do you feel like watching? I can’t decide.” They come out exactly as they did the first time this happened. Her brain feels on fire, as she tries to figure out which memory this is. And then the familiar smell of pasta solves the mystery. This is the last time she saw Drew. Before he vanished out of her life, leaving no trace behind.

Daisy aches, as she wishes she could say something else this time. Her lips burn with all the questions she has and all the anger she still holds.

“I don’t care what we watch, you pick.” His deep voice makes Daisy’s heart race. She didn’t think she would ever hear his voice again. Her left hand puts down the remote, her body relaxes involuntarily, and she sprawls on the couch.  

Without warning, Drew jumps over the sofa from behind it, making it shake. He stands in front of Daisy, wearing a triumphant smile and a white shirt splattered in tomato sauce. 

“Kiss me, luv,” he says, in a poorly attempted accent, as he bursts into laughter.  

Daisy’s insides shatter at the sight of him, and tears should form in her eyes, but nothing comes out. She wishes she could scream. Instead, her lips curl in a smile, and a rich laugh escapes her. Drew throws his body over hers, his arms wrapping around her waist, in a tickle attack.

“Stop!” she screams, gasping for air, in between painful laughs. “And stop pretending to be British!”

The attack stops, and Drew looks her directly in the eye, his face an inch away from hers.  

“I know you luv it,” he says, smirking.  

And without waiting for an answer, his lips touch Daisy’s lips. A howl stirs inside her stomach. Her hands automatically wander through his hair, and when she breathes in, the smell of his skin fills her with agony. All the things she wishes she could say build up in her throat, threatening to drown her. Drew buries his face in the crease of her neck, and he kisses, one by one, each mole that forms a constellation on her collarbone.

“I love you.” 

 

Daisy’s head emerges from the water, her lungs burning for air. The water moves frantically from side to side, spilling over the edge of the tub, as she gasps and coughs, catching her breath. Her torso moves up and down. She lets out a wail and covers her face with her palms, sobbing. The memory was more vivid than she could have ever imagined. And after months of being alone, waiting for him to ever come back, she found a way to see him again.

When her breath finally settles, she reaches over the edge and scrambles for the Memoria box. With trembling fingers, she grabs it from the floor and rips the foil open, grabbing another blue pill. She tosses it in her mouth, throws her head back, and swallows.

The tepid water sits perfectly still and Daisy waits, afraid of what might come. Just for a moment, the image of her mother passed out, bottle in hand, flashes before her eyes. And before she knows it, she falls back into a daze.