Diary of Amnesia

2108, 26th April

I stand in this place in a building high in the sky, the town where the dead do not speak, where the ground does not grow, and the sun creates radioactive sunsets. I can see a monster in the distance, the stack, and a coffin buried beneath rubble; sometimes when I wake up at night, I can see a blue glow, and I sometimes think to myself (What was beneath that coffin, why does it spew that blue glow?). This happened long ago, so long ago, and now after the events of the war, the world has descended into darkness. Around my neck is this locket, shaped like a heart, but I cannot remember why I am wearing it? And why can’t I remember the combination, a 4-digit number, but what was it? Perhaps if I sleep tonight, I will wake up tomorrow with the memory of what it was.

2108, 27th April

This morning I woke up to a green sky, poisonous thunder, and falling gray stuff from above; I can still see the destroyed coffin from the Polissya; the amount of buzzing from my dosimeter within the air is hazardous since I have been hearing the screams of heralds at night; those that go near the coffin try to collect mementos to take back home, Big blocks of smooth mineral, rods that look like hair, a piece of lava but then again, education has gone down the hole since the bombs. I remember my father telling me stories about the golden years when the world tried to get along; he spoke of how the West and East were once great allies willing to spill their blood for each other if one needed help. But then something changed in their motives; men in power decided they didn’t need either one or tried to outwit the other with weaponry; how bigger could the gun be? How much more energy could you fit into a nuclear bomb? But, they forgot to ask the real question, how many citizens will you sacrifice for greed and power? The fire burns warmly for me. I cook the deer meat that isn’t radiated, but it is hard to tell with everything here; my dosimeter remains quiet when I check myself every day. I try to measure the food, but no clicks; maybe it's broken?

2108, 28th April

Again, I’m trying to remember this locket, but I still can’t fathom why I’m wearing it, 2-0-2-1. Was that the code? Or was it 1-5-4-7, no not that either. This locket had a small piece of paper attached to it, and it simply read,

Remember the day.

But what was the day? There was a day I can’t remember; you think my 29-year-old would have the memory of a scientist, but mine is that of a toddler who gets easily distracted by beautiful colors. Every time I try to think about the day I lose my thoughts, I think about other things; when I go back up to Polissya and see the blue glow when I hear the heralds screaming from down below or gunshots ringing in the night, chatters of people below trying to survive and so much more. But I can’t remember the locket’s combination, but no, it’s like a leaf in the wind when it blows away. Do you see it again, or do you remember it?

Do you remember the color of the leaf? What tree did it come from? I’m still thinking about this even as I write in my little journal, my fire burns warmly against the windy nights protecting me from the harsh cold, up above; I see stars, and I see a planet, what was the name? I’m sure it’ll come to me; I can’t stay here in the city much longer; the explosions from the coffin are getting louder, and I can feel the rumbling from here; I forgot to mention that two days ago in my journal, but that’s ok; I didn’t think at the time it was dangerous.

2108, 29th April

This morning I drank some wild tea that I found sitting in a buried box; I don’t know if it was safe to drink, but finding anything drinkable in this place is a gift from heaven. The food that grows here could be toxic. Still, you do what you must to survive. You could melt the snow, but even that is risky, but now I need to start making my way away from this place, head north. I once heard stories about how you would rub some sort of lamp, and a magic entity would pop out of it granting you three wishes; I would only need one. My only wish would be to open this locket and see what is inside, but would that even be a wish? I could easily remember the combination if I knew what it was, but I don’t. So I look to the coffin again and see it lurking, sitting, and radiating its poisonous breath from its gaping mouth far below.

The sun was shining high above, and I decided it was time for me to leave this place; I packed up everything, grabbed my rifle, and left the Polissya. I’m hoping to reach the North within three weeks, but the weather out here can change so quickly. I guess the only thing that’s pushing me is this locket.

2108, 20th May

I’ve made it to Lake Strusta, I think it is called? It is absolutely enormous; the fish thrive in this water, and it is freshwater is soothing on my lips. I’ve walked about 480 kilometers and have seen so much; the day I left the city, I remember using my dosimeter to keep my distance from the poison breath, it “clicked” like mad at some points but then finally stopped as I got further North, I took a last look back at the place and then I left never looking back. I began to remember more of my memory the further I got away from that place, strange really, I remember cooking for a family once, inside that big building I stayed in, I also began to recognize the language of that place and what they were speaking, I remember the city’s name.

P-R-I-P-Y-A-T, and it spells Pripyat, but I don’t know anything about that place. The coffin I saw looked like some sort of shield to keep something out, but what? The more I dwell on it, the more I look at this locket hanging from my neck via an old rusting chain; it just sits there dangling. Still, I try every combination I think of, 6-8-9-1, and nothing still. The sun is setting.

2108, 1st June

The further I get, the more my memory returns; I now am remembering my name! My name is Kurt, Kurt, yes, my name is Kurt! I know I am 29 years old! I was born before the war began, in 2079; the war started in 2088 when I was living in this place they call Europe, then the bombs fell. My parents fended for me and my brother, who passed away later in my life (I can’t remember when he died, though). This locket, this is my mother’s locket! And now that piece of paper,

Remember the Day.

It's beginning to come to me now; as I stare into this crackling fire, it's now coming to me!

Are you now beginning to remember, honey?

Mother?

Do you remember the day?

But you died long ago, how can you be alive!?

Remember the day.

The ghosts of the past haunt me now, mother wants me to remember the day, but I still can’t, and dammit, why can’t I remember!? This day and its importance, what makes it essential, and why is it important? 6-9-8-1, that was my last combination; I’m beginning to wonder, though, does that hold some sort of merit? Some importance? Maybe if I…

No, no, no, it's too late to think about this; I’ve traveled far up North to this land of Norway, I think they called it. I need to rest; I’m exhausted.

2108, 15th June

I’ve made it to my destination, a place called Lofoten, and it's beautiful up here; the sun stays in the sky almost eternally, but the freezing air makes it bearable, the houses here while all decaying are still beautiful. I’ve made my home in one of the tiny homes looking out into the sea where the sun just kisses the water; a dog has decided to move into the house and offer me companionship as well; I’ve named him Roland.

But now this locket, something about that last combination, has me thinking, I’m beginning to wonder if the numbers 6981, what if I reversed the numbers? Would that do any good? Looking in my journal, I see I tried 2021 and 1547, so maybe 1-2-0-2. No, nothing, perhaps 7-4-5-1? Still nothing, so now it is down to this number, the last one I can think of.

1-9-8-6

“Click!”

Oh my god!? I heard it click! It opened! Finally, it opened!

Kurt opened the locket with excitement. Then, finally, after months of trying to open it, the tiny locket opens so slowly, a minor tune plays, and inside he sees what it was; all this time, it was the very thing he had forgotten for so long.