Fallen Read Free

back in his chair and watched her breathe.

Chapter 3: Memories
     
    The human brain was truly a miraculous organ. Amir had always admired its complexity. It was also very fragile, he thought, as he probed deeply through Shayla’s mind for any signs of brain damage. Fortunately no part of her brain controlling speech or movement had been damaged. Unfortunately, the hippocampus, the part of the brain regulating long-term memory, had suffered extensive damage.
    Without his help, Shayla would have no recollection of who she was or where she had come from. It would completely devastate her, having to re-learn everything about herself. She would have no memory of dance.
    Amir place one hand on either side of her head and focused all of his energy on reconstructing her hippocampus. One at a time, he retrieved and filed away each of her memories, taking care to put them in the order in which he found them, like placing photographs chronologically into an album.
    When he was finished he collapsed into his chair with a sigh, exhausted. Working with the human brain was quite an undertaking, one that always left him drained. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
     
     
     
    Shayla peeked from behind the burgundy velvet curtain, her eyes wide with wonder. Every seat in the auditorium was packed. She scanned the crowd slowly, smiling with anticipation as she searched for two familiar faces. The longer she stood there searching, the more her smile faded until she was frowning. She released the curtain and turned away with a sigh. They weren’t coming. Again.
    She didn’t know why she kept expecting them to show; they almost never did. Now sixteen, she supposed she should have been used to it by now, but the fact that her parents never bothered to come to her recitals never stopped hurting.
    They were more than content to pay for her lessons . A fter all , the more time she spent at the most prestigious dance school for young dancers in New York City, the less time they had to spend with her . W hich meant more time spent working and more money to be earned.
    Shayla swiped angrily at the tears running down her cheeks and checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure she hadn’t smudged her stage make up too badly. She studied her reflection as she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.
    She supposed she should be grateful. After all, there were a lot of neglected kids out there. So many young people her age lived on the streets with no place to call home and no one to care for them. Shayla had parents who could afford to send her to one of the best private schools. Her bedroom was like an advertisement in one of those teen magazines, stuffed to the ceiling with everything a girl could ever want. Walking into her closet was like walking into a department store. The brand new car she’d been given for her birthday was parked outside of the auditorium, its cherry-red paint gleaming in the afternoon sun.
    Yet Shayla would trade the car in an instant to have her parents here now, to witness her very first solo performance. She was nervous; her palms were sweaty and her legs trembling. She would hand over the keys in a second if it meant they would be here in the audience, smiling proudly and cheering her on…
     
     
    Amir awakened with tears in his eyes. He wiped at them with the back of his hand. Repairing a person’s memory almost always left its imprint in his own mind . T hose memories tended to embed themselves into his dreams. His heart hurt for the young girl who only wanted more of her parents’ attention and affection.
    It was no wonder they were estranged. Parents like Shayla’s often confused the material possessions they could provide with real and lasting love. It was a shame, really. After having been inside of Shayla’s mind, Amir could clearly see that she was a good person. Her soul was surrounded by radiant light. Her parents were really missing out by not knowing her.
    He leaned forward with his chin