Day 108 - Why did he write that down?

 Why did he write that down?

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

When Ester found him on the ground, unconscious, she feared the worst. She saw the pen in his hand and the piece of parchment on the floor and assumed it was a suicide note. It was, in a way, but not how she first thought. Harold had written down the words – I want to forget everything. And so, he had.

Ester took the parchment and burnt it. She hoped his final words would be what was forgotten.

Ester didn’t know what Harold hated so much that it would come to this. He had talked about wanting to find a purpose in life. He was young and discontented, but she always thought it was a form of impatience, not misery. He had such wonderful gifts, and was powerful, certainly more so that she ever was. Ester thought he was teaching him restraint and control. She thought he was gaining wisdom that would be rewarded. Now she wondered what signs she had missed. Ethel would have noticed, of that Ester was sure. Ethel had a bigger heart, greater empathy. She would have seen Harold was in trouble. Ester felt ashamed at failing them both.

Harold began to stir, but it was too late, the spell had taken effect. He stared at her blankly and slowly asked who she was. Then after a pause, he asked who he was. She had been too late. There was nothing to be done to change his fate. Harold had forgotten.

Ester tried to tell him. She tried to write notes. She found his journals and had him read them. She found his pen and gave him writing assignments. But there was nothing left of the Harold that was. Nothing either of them could reach anyway.

Ester’s heart sank. Her world was crushed. Ethel was gone. Her daughter Maeve was gone. And now, her grandson Harold was gone in every way that mattered. He was a husk, a faded ghost, with an emptiness she could not fill.

Ester had spent her life taking the pain away from others. She couldn’t stand what her world had become, but still she was afraid to take away her own. She couldn’t bring herself to write her fears or frustrations. She couldn’t do what Harold had done.

But Harold had been powerful. Perhaps the most powerful her family had ever seen. Even if he didn’t remember, perhaps the powers remained.

Harold didn’t understand why Ester wanted him to write down what she said, but he agreed to do it since she had been taking care of him ever since he woke with no memory. She gave him what she called a special pen and special piece of paper. Ester was afraid. Unsure what would happen.

They sat there for a long time, Harold holding the pen, waiting for Ester to begin. A tear ran down her cheek. It was all so unfair, she thought. Finally, Ester began to speak.