• “I think it should be a unique name, but one that flows.” The man suggested, still blissful from the birth of his first child. The mother sighed as she gazed endearingly upon the newborn and agreed,

    “Indeed.” The father smiled knowingly and whispered,

    “Thana.”

    She hesitated at first, surprised that he could conjure up that wonderful name in an instant, but said unwaveringly, “It’s beautiful.”

    ---

    Yes, I remember all of it. I have a rare case of photographic memory where I can recall everything from the time immediately after I was born. Strange, I know, but there’s nothing I can really do about it. Not that the doctors haven’t tried…

    I grimace at these thoughts as I walk down the sidewalk with my nearly empty backpack toward Point Quaine Academy, the so-called prestigious high school of the area. I hate it when people say they envy me because of my “perfect memory”. They just don’t understand. Yeah, it’s helpful when it comes to school and such, but it’s not like I can choose what to remember. My condition makes bad memories worse.

    Another day of school fades away as I make my way home. Nothing special ever happens there. It’s not like I have any friends. My life is so robotic it makes me sick.

    Everybody seems to have these strange misconceptions about me. There’s one in particular I find quite silly. It’s the notion that I have “no problems”. Wrong! Someone please cue the “buzzer of incorrectness”. I absolutely do have problems and I don’t think there is anyone who doesn’t. I have too many issues to even wrap my head around! Just because I have the ability of “perfect memorization”, it doesn’t make me perfect myself. I won’t even call it an ability anymore. If anything, it’s a disability.

    Everyone also seems to think that I hate people. Yes, I’m antisocial, but not because I despise humanity. To be honest, I used to have many friends, but slowly, one by one, they were taken away from me; whether it be dying, moving away, or betraying me. I was left all alone. Whenever I see someone my age hanging around their friends, those moments, the moments my own friends abandoned me, play back one after another inside my head. It kills me to watch it all. This is how I developed the habit of looking down in the hallways and in the streets. It’s not because I don’t need friends. In fact, I would be happy to have a few, but I don’t want to go through that again. Ever.

    Thomira. That’s her name. I’ve wanted to get to know her for a long time, even though I can’t. She’s the studious, book-loving, quiet type. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be her friend. I dream about her sometimes. I think I am waiting for her to hit up a conversation or at least say ‘hi’ to me. Well, it’s not like I expect her to do something like that. It’s not in her character, after all. I wonder, am I lonely?

    Occasionally, I watch her from behind the bookshelves, hoping she doesn’t notice me. There have been times where my impulse almost beats my instinct and I jump out from my hiding spot, but never end up saying anything. I’m at an internal stalemate…

    Today I’m determined to talk to her. I figure I can’t just keep holding myself back. I have to take action.

    I walk confidently into the library toward the table where she normally works. To my disdain, the one day I gather my courage, she isn’t there. In her place is a group of five friends. Oh no. Not this. Anything but this. I sulk behind the farthest bookshelf as I recall that voicemail I received regarding the tragic death of my friend, Alexis.

    “Good evening, Thana, this is Alexis’s mom. I am sorry to tell you that Alexis was caught in a fatal car accident and is no longer with us. I would like to invite you to come to her funeral on Saturday, but if you are not up to coming, I completely understand. That is all for now. Goodbye.”

    I didn’t end up attending her funeral. Instead, I was alone in my room. I was too busy grieving for the loss of my first and only friend. I made a few pity-friends after that, but one of them, Nancy, moved away, and the others, Alyssa and Karen, stabbed me in the back. It’s much too painful to explain the details.

    I open my eyes to find myself sitting with my back against the fiction author shelf, wiping my cheeks to erase any evidence of tears. A familiar, soothing voice startles me, “Are you okay?”

    I practically jump out of my position when I see who it is, “Thomira! Yeah uh…um…well…I’m fine! What are you doing here?”

    She smiles causing her dimples to crease on her face as she replies, “I help out the librarian sometimes for community service. More importantly, you shouldn’t try to hide your feelings.” I grin and jokingly inquire,

    “Should you be one to talk?”

    She laughs quietly and says, “No, I guess not.”

    I force myself to stand up from fetal position and offer her my hand.

    We walk part way home together and tell each other our life stories. Just before we go our separate paths, she whispers in my ear,

    “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you. Not on my life.”

    At night, I go to bed at ease.

    I wake up the next morning sprawled out on my floor. Drowsily, I stand up and throw my blankets back onto my bed. I stare into space for a while, browsing my thoughts and pondering the troubles of my life. Just as I am about to return to reality, I have a sudden epiphany,

    “Maybe the reason why those scenes keep playing back in my head is because I am stuck in the past. Maybe if I focus more on what I can do in the future, I wouldn’t feel so miserable. Maybe then people will stop having these odd perceptions of me. Wouldn’t that rid me of my regrets?”

    I change into my school uniform and gleefully brush my hair. Making breakfast has never been more exciting. When was the last time I felt this way?

    I step out the door into fresh morning air. It is earlier than I expected, as the sun is still rising. I meet Thomira on the second crosswalk, which is a pleasant surprise. She notices my overflowing joy. She laughs and asks, “Did something happen?”

    I grin childishly and reply, “Nope, I just feel amazing today. I’ve decided to not let my condition take over my life.”

    She laughs even harder and says, “You do know how cheesy that sounded, right?” I nod,

    “I know, but life is cheesy in its greatest moments, isn't it?”

    The laughing stops after a while and I stop to look Thomira in the eyes and say, “All this time, I have made myself believe that the doctors know my condition best. But what I have failed to realize, was that this memory is mine, and no matter what the world may throw at me, regardless of what the experts say, I am me. I have the power to choose what I want to remember, and no stupid condition can hinder me. Not without my consent.”

    Thomira smiles, visibly touched, and wraps her arms around me. She says softly into my ear, “Says the girl who was crying in the library yesterday.”