One minute I hugged myself on the couch. In the next I paced the floor. Twice I found myself back in bed, curled into a fetal position. The new reality sank into me like steel sinking in the ocean. When it hit bottom it dug in deep. I would never be rid of the terrible memories. Memories and experiences—that’s who we are. I thought of Jason Bourne in The Bourne Identity. He had no memories, and was utterly lost. Imagine if his brain had been filled with false memories. He’d have become someone entirely different. Yes, that was only fiction. But what I’d read online proved the science was real. Here I was, remembering details of a murder. No matter what I did, they would haunt me for the rest of my life. How could I carry these horrible pictures in my head for the rest of my life? That evening I tried to eat some soup. Mostly I just cried into the bowl. My head throbbed, and my body shook with chills.
