Memory is such a strange thing. Perhaps this is because it deals with time, and time is something that human beings have yet to have total comprehension over. That, of course, makes people curious about it. But it also makes people want more of it. Why? Because human beings always desire what they don’t possess, or what they, essentially cannot have. Since time has no owner, it makes sense that people want more of it. But how can one measure time? How can someone have more time than someone else? There seems to be no currency for time…or is there? Memory. Memory is not a currency- for it is impossible to trade- but memory is something that can, at least to some extent, measure time, and the way that it was spent. Perhaps currency is indeed a very controversial term. A better nickname for memory might be a record. A receipt for the amount of time that someone spends dedicated to a particular task.
Of course, memory does not measure time in units. In fact, quite often, short memories of greater appeal or of greater importance to a particular person can seem much longer in human recollection than memories of what the same individual would perceive as long, monotonous events. So maybe memory can indeed be a type of currency as well- one can buy a beautiful, pleasant memory for a particular chunk of time spent on it.
But what about bad memories? Is there such a thing? In human perception, there is indeed such a thing as an unpleasant, unworthy memory. These are the memories that people wish to forget. Moments of embarrassment, sadness, violence, fear… But really, what makes these memories bad, exactly?
It is not the quality of these memories that makes them so detestable. In fact, the quality- the clarity of these memories can actually be much better than the clarity of more meaningless memories, such as those formed during boring tasks. The memory of a nap taken for 3 hours may not be as vivid as the memory of a 3 second car crash in a witness’s mind. So what is it truly that makes the car crash memory such a bad memory?
Well, there isn’t such a thing. There is nothing that can make a memory either good or bad- it is only the individual’s view of the situation. Every second of any life has an infinite range of values and can generate a near endless array of different emotions. So why do people want to forget?
Why did Chloe want to forget? What made the memory of that wonderfully-spent time at the party such a stabbing, nagging pain? She had had the time of her life, and she was still alive- wasn’t that all that mattered? Why did she have this uncomfortable feeling whenever one of her peers turned to look at her during class?
All through the day, Chloe stumbled from classroom to classroom in a kind of shocked state. Other student kept shooting her strange looks, and she could not tell why. It was not until lunchtime arrived for her that a red-headed girl finally had the guts to approach her. Chloe put on the best smile she could, and tried to appear as friendly as possible, but the girl did not have an air of the same welcome that she had been expecting.
“You do realize that you aren’t supposed to be here, right?” she asked in a low, cautious voice. There wasn’t a hint of threat in it, just a muffled curiosity and a lot of formality.
“What?” Chloe was caught completely off guard. She had never expected this. “Why?”
“Why don’t you take a look for yourself?” She handed Chloe a printout page with bold French print. She peered at it, feeling an icy shiver running down her spine.
Under the University’s decision, Chloe Woodsmith can no longer return to her studies due to the now requested refund of the previously paid fees of tuition. As this breaks the contract between Chloe Woodsmith and the tuition center that she had been sent to attend as a foreign student, she is now exempt from class attendance in entirety and should not be allowed upon the university’s grounds until further notice.
By the time Chloe looked up from this rather shrewd notice, the ginger- haired girl was gone, and no one seemed to be paying her any more attention. With one last glance around the well-furnished cafeteria, Chloe turned and left, abandoning her dream for what would seem like forever.