Prologue

You are careless.

You are absent-minded.

You are forgetful.

You have a problem.

You have no brain.

All of these just to end up in one statement.

You are sick.

I am. It's incurable.

And it's Alzheimer's disease.

~~~~~

As I walked along the corridors, I could hear their frequent murmurs. Murmurs about me. How I was sick. How I was diseased.

I strolled into my class and plopped into my usual seat. I caught the gaze of my "best friend". She didn't even acknowledge me. It was as if I wasn't there.

At that moment, Mrs Coleman walked in and stared at me incredulously. "What are you doing here?" she asked. As if she was the one with rapidly progressive dementia.

"Um... for school?" I answered.

Mrs Coleman sighed. "Didn't your mother tell you that you are not supposed to come to school anymore?"

I shook my head numbly. I stood up and walked out of the classroom in shock.

~~~~~~

What I saw forced tears out of my eyes. My room, which was filled with post-it notes just to remind me of the simplest things, had an enormous white board. On it read, 'Don't go to school'. The ink still slightly damp, in my own lucid handwriting.

Help me. I sobbed and slumped on my bed. I had forgotten. I had written it just as I woke up and had forgotten in the next hour. I clamped my hands around my head and hit the wall repeatedly.

Why can't I remember? Why? Why am I that 0.001% that contracted this disease?

Hot tears flowed down my already damp cheeks. I hated it. As I pounded my fists on my head, I felt two hands grasp me by the waist. Those large, calloused hands that could only belong to one person.

"Stop it, Astraea! Stop," his voice trembled. It was my father.

I turned around and held him close to me. Never wanting to let go, never wanting to forget. He was fading away, like me. The years we wearing him down, my tantrums too. The creases on his forehead showed it all.

When I let go, my father's lips were curved into a rueful smile. One that I had not seen for a long, long time. Seeing his rare smile, I smiled too.

He wiped my tears away and whispered, "Don't hurt yourself, OK? It's not worth it. To me, you are always, always brilliant,"

For the second time that day, I smiled.

Even if I forgot everything, I have a wish. One simple request.

For someone to remember me.

No one but my father would do that, and I wanted somebody else. Call me greedy, but that is my final wish. Before I forget. I want them to remember me for who I am and love me for what had happened to me.

I looked around my room as my dad left. It was filled with teddy bears. "Get well soon" teddy bears.

Ironic. Isn't it?

I took out paper, pens and string.

And I started to write.