Memento
She snapped her fingers twice to get the attention of the bartender. He concocted her usual drink, a martini with a single olive, and served it with a flirty wink. She thanked the man and took a sip. This is her second drink tonight, and she might get a third one.
Her life has been nothing but a routine lately. She wakes up to her alarm, brushes her teeth, takes a shower, cooks breakfast, makes a coffee, commutes to work, reads on the train, clocks in, arranges files, writes reports, plasters a fake smile on her co-workers who share no similarities with her, eat lunch, goes back to work and wait until it's time to clock out. On her day off, she takes walks, visits new places that pique her interest, and eventually goes home to her quiet apartment. If she knew it would be this mundane, she should've accepted the offer from the father of the man who totaled the car she was riding that day.
He told her not to press charges on his son with a hefty sum of bills passed under the table. She declined, crumpled the envelope, threw it in his face, and now, the guy is in prison. He deserved it, she thought. He should've known better than driving drunk and high at night.
Things would've been different. She wouldn't be stuck in this job, staring at screens with a hole in her heart, or more accurately, in her mind.
That accident caused her to lose her memories, 5 years of her past gone to a head injury. She also lost someone dear to her who is now a stranger in her eyes.
Her name was Minju, a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart. A month after her hospital discharge, she visited Minju's hometown. It took her an hour of peaceful sceneries, green trees, and birds flying to the horizon. She followed the map she found in her apartment, asking locals along the way with some people apologizing for her loss. They knew Minju as the sweetest, kindest, most endearing woman they ever met. They couldn't believe it when they heard the news.
Minju's family welcomed her with open arms. All her anxiety went down the drain when they opened the door and ushered her inside. She sat down with them, trying her hardest not to stare at the shrine they made for her. They offered her coffee, and stories about Minju that she probably heard before but had been wiped off her mind.
She was their only daughter, and they loved her for everything she was. They gave her everything she could ever have, and she worked hard to give back. They remember when she took her first steps and said her first word, and how happy she was when she moved out of their house to live with her.
She would call from time to time, saying how this was what she wanted, how this was what she wished for, and how Minju wanted to spend a lifetime with her. By then, it had been 3 great years until it happened.
They walked to the cemetery where Minju lies. They told her that she was the one who took that picture. She stared at it, a smile crept up to her lips, and though she found the woman beautiful, she couldn't feel anything but guilt.
"I'm so sorry." Minju's dad patted her on her shoulder and wiped a tear.
"It's not your fault, Winter." He choked on his words. "We're thankful you made her happy even in her last moments." Right. She listened to the recording they saved from the car's dashcam as soon as she woke up from the coma. They were laughing at something before the sound of the crash took over. The cops asked her if she remembered anything from that night. The doctor in charge of her told them to get out of her room when she grew frustrated. That's when they evaluated her and results showed that she's suffering from retrograde amnesia.
It's like she graduated from college, slept for a long time, and woke up in a hospital. She remembered one of the nurses recommending films about amnesia. It's not that it's hard to understand; you lost your memories, you can create new ones, simple as that, but one of them stuck with her.
Memento. A man who's stuck with chasing the murderer of his wife. If she lost her memories, this guy couldn't form new ones. She felt a little lucky with her condition. She won't be waking up every day unable to recall who she is, what she's doing, and who should she trust. And though the man already solved the murder, he wouldn't remember. In a way, he's in his own hell. Even if he finds out about the truth, he'll forget it the next day and it will start again. The hunt, the chase, the kill. He's in his personal time loop.
Would she do the same if that happened to her? Would she avenge the murder of the person she once loved?
How could she feel love for a person when her memories of her now are a collection of stories from people who knew her?
She chewed the olive while staring at the glass in her hand. Minju was special to her, but how could that be when she didn't know her?
She remembered what Natalie asked Leonard to do. Close his eyes and remember.
Winter tried and gave it a few minutes. She recollected what Minju looked like. How soft her hair was, how bright she smiles, how happy she looked every time and what her voice sounds like.
She realized that her memories of Minju are collections of stories others told, videos and photographs she'd looked at. She might as well think that everything is fabricated. Nothing feels authentic, nothing makes her feel.
Before she could ask for another drink, the bartender read her mind and made another one for her.
"Years of work made you a psychic?" Winter asked, taking out a bill from her wallet.
"I wish I could say yes and look cool, but someone else thought of it." Surprised, she looked at where the bartender was pointing, and there, at a lone table, a woman in black raised her glass. Winter smiled and nodded her head.
She looked at the time and realized that she needed to go home soon.
"Care if I join?" Winter felt shivers down her spine when the same woman whispered in her ear before sitting beside her.
"I don't mind." She extended a hand and Winter gladly took it.
"My name's Karina. I'll be honored to know yours." A sweet talker , she thought. She examined the face of the woman in front of her. Brown. hypnotizing eyes gazed back at her. She gulped, bothered that her throat was suddenly dry. The small smirk she has makes her look arrogant but sexy. The black coat covered her porcelain skin, as well as the tight black dress underneath. Her legs looked smooth; she could imagine her hands gliding down without any worries. Winter's eyes darted back at the woman’s, enthralled by her existence.
"Like what you see? It would be nice to get your name with all that scanning you did." Winter sheepishly smiled, she didn’t mean to do it, but couldn’t help herself.
“It’s Winter.” The woman acted like she suddenly felt cold, shaking her body a little.
“Like your voice. I like it. Is that your favorite season, too?” The woman smiled, the way her lips curled up was pretty, Winter thought.
“I like autumn.”
“I like winter.” She raised her eyebrows at her, but the woman’s growing smile turned into a giggle and it was contagious.
“So, Ms. Winter, what made you come here alone?”
“Just letting some stress out of my body. You, what made you dress so fancy in a bar without a man around you?” The woman sickeningly smirked again making Winter think of things she hadn't been able to think about.
“Maybe fate put us here, to meet each other, and share things… plus, men aren’t interesting for me.” The woman drank her wine in one go, her neck in full view and Winter could feel every gulp she took.
Winter did the same with her drink when Karina slowly removed her coat and covered her legs.
“It’s warm up here, but cold down there. Sorry, had to cover your eye candy.”
“I wasn’t looking for that long.” Winter defended herself.
“I know, I just want your eyes up here.” Her shoulders, collarbones, and down to the top of her chest were exposed. Karina leaned back a little before crossing her legs. The staring contest was intense. Both of them examined each other’s features, the darkness in the bar might’ve hindered it a little, but that didn’t stop them from doing so.
“I can look at you for a long time.” Winter expressed her thoughts loudly.
“We can do that somewhere else. Come with me?” Winter’s heart quickened its pace. She can’t, not now that she hasn’t processed everything that happened to her. She doesn’t want to mess things up if she’ll be in a relationship again.
She’s thinking too far ahead of herself.
Does that mean I want to be with her, and not just in bed? Should I trust her?