Content Warning: Mention of suicidal thoughts (no details though)

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Today is the worst day of my life. One might think that the day of the funeral of your best friend might be the worst day of your life. But the day after is way worse. When it's funeral day, the world is understanding. You are allowed to be a mess. But the day after, somehow, no one seems to care anymore. You have to deal with life and its motions again. And today is that day. I didn't feel like leaving my bed, yet alone my house. But I got hungry and my fridge is empty. I lived off of what was in it for the last two weeks. Ever since he died. So I put on some none smelly clothes and went to get something to eat. 

I was just crossing a road when I stopped dead in my track. Everything around me vanished from my sight. I could only see him. Across the road. Walking by some shops like nothing happened. It was him. I was sure of it. I knew, it should be impossible, but there is no way that it wasn't him.

The honk of a car shook me out of my trance. The light turned red without me noticing. I hurried the rest of the way across the road, not turning my sight away from him. The longer I looked, the more I was sure it was him.

I ran. Faster than I thought I could, even on my best days. I jumped in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. Those eyes with this undefinable color. This weird mix of green, blue, gray and a little bit of brown sprinkled in between. "How..." was everything I could manage to say.

I saw surprise in his eyes. Some confusion. "You know who I am?" I didn’t know how to react. “You are not supposed to remember me!” All I could do was stare into his eyes. The eyes I thought I would never see again. How could I ever forget them. All those long nights, talking when I was heartbroken, all those times those eyes looked at me with kindness when I was in a dark place and knew I acted like the worst person ever. Those eyes saved me more often than I could count. “How could I forget you?” 

He grabbed my arm harshly and started to walk, almost run, dragging me behind. “You are hurting me!” I struggled to loosen his grip, but he hold on tight and I was forced to stumble along. Without stopping we burst through the front door of a fancy looking office building. We went straight to the reception, cutting a line and pushing aside multiple people.  „SOMETHING WENT WRONG!“ he shouted. His grip still holding my wrist, still so strong it hurt. I looked somewhat apologetic somewhat confused at the woman who just got shouted at. Her reaction was as professional as she looked. „Please follow me.“ she said, gesturing into a hallway toward which she stepped immediately following her words. He seemed slightly taken aback, but not entirely losing the heat of his anger. And still painfully holding my arm. „Please let go...“ I said, feeling my hand getting numb. He looked at me, somewhat surprised to see me. He let go immediately, „Sorry, just...“ The receptionist loudly cleared her throat. We started following her, as instructed, along a hallway. There were a lot of doors to either side. I tried to read all the signs, but I couldn’t find any clue as to what kind of company this was. The hallway was long, long enough for me to focus on some clear thoughts. My best friend is still alive. He thought I would have forgotten him entirely. Only a few days after his death. I saw his dead body at the funeral, but still he is alive. Maybe I am dreaming?

Just as I started searching for logical explanations, the receptionist stopped in front of a door, knocked, and without waiting for an answer opened the door and said „We have a 36.“. A deep male voice answered „I see. Let them in.“ The receptionist gestured us to enter and then started to go back down the hallway, the clicks of her heels getting quieter faster than I had expected. „Come!“ he said and went inside. I hurried behind him, not wanting to make anyone wait. „Ah, Mister Baker! Come in! Sit! What seems to be the problem?“ The man behind the desk inside looked just like one would imagine a typical businessman to look like, suit and all. But why Baker? My friend's name is not Baker. I didn’t know what to do, still completely at a loss as to what was going on, so I just followed my friends lead and sat down in the second of the two chairs in front of the desk. „She remembers.“ was all he said, obviously having calmed down a bit. „I see. This is rare, but can happen.“ The man behind the desk started typing and clicking on his computer. I used the time this gave me to look around the office. It was relatively empty, no windows, just the desk and a shelf filled with files. No books or images. No indication as to what kind of business was done here. „Ah here it is. For your case, 156 people’s memories were severely altered. Those are the ones who knew you better. 1738 only got their memories of you removed, no complex alterations needed. The rest didn’t know you good enough to not be persuaded by simply denying you know them. I assume this lady belongs to the first category?” Altered memories? What was going on here? And how could they just alter memories? “What is this here?” I demanded to know. The shock I was under until now got replaced with anger upon hearing him talking about messing with people's heads like this. This wasn’t right. „I am sorry Miss. This is something that should not happen, but the technology is still being developed which causes it to malfunction sometimes. When you wake up tomorrow everything will be fine, I promise.“ “Why would I want that?! I don’t want someone to mess with my memories. And I really don’t want to forget my best friend, which is what you want to do, right?” I had jumped out of my seat and banged my hands on the table, now looking this businessman uncomfortably close in the eyes. But I was over the point where I cared. My friend seemed shocked by my reaction but the businessman seemed not affected at all. “I understand how you feel, but this is for your best and more importantly for my clients best. I am afraid this is not for you to choose.” Not for me to choose? This is my memory! I should be the only one having any control over my own memories. But before I could say anything, my friend said: “It’s ok. Can we just explain what is going on? I am sure she’ll understand. And I am fine with her still knowing. We are best friends after all.” While saying this he also gently pushed me back into my seat. He did still care about me. The businessman still didn’t change his expressions in any way. “I see. If you wish it to be that way, we can definitely do it that way.” He looked at me. “Miss, I will now explain to you everything you need to know.  If you have any objections we can’t get past, I am afraid we will have to remove any memory you have about us, including your friend as one of our client.” I was a bit confused. Was it really that easy to just keep my memories? I still didn’t know, what really was going on here. “I don’t quite understand...” I started. My friend finally gave an explanation. “I couldn’t live the way I did anymore. I was in a deep depression, not sure how to get out of it. I hated my job and what I studied. I hated most of my friends and, as you know, I never went along with my family. Now, no one remembers I ever existed... except for you of cause. This is my chance at a completely new beginning. New credentials to find a job I really enjoy. I officially have no family left and have no baggage that could prevent me from making new friends. It is perfect! And since no one, except of cause you, remembers I ever existed, no one has to suffer. It is way better than actually committing suicide, which, I must admit, I really considered...” He went silent. This thought must still cause him a great deal of pain. I never knew he felt that way. Of cause I knew he wasn’t quite happy with the way things are, but to this extend? “But... Why did you never say something? I would have...” He interrupted me. “I know, but you couldn’t have changed anything. To be honest, you are the reason I chose this instead. I didn’t want you to suffer because of me... but now you do. I...” Now it was the businessman’s turn to interrupt. “I looked it up, her memories are not too interlinked with anyone else’s. If the Miss is ok with it, we can just leave it as it is. She would have to agree to never mention you to anyone else who knew you before and to never publicly acknowledge your former existence. You can keep your back story, that you are childhood friends, she would just need to cooperate that your parents died when you were 19 in an accident and you never had any siblings. That is all the changes to official knowledge needed. A fairly easy accommodation if I have to be honest.” These explanations confused more than they cleared up things. But if it meant, that my best friend would not be dead and my memory wouldn’t be changed, I was in. I nodded “Sounds fine.” But my friend didn’t seem entirely convinced. “But what exactly caused her to remember? Could anyone else out there also remember?” Again the businessman clicked around in his computer for bit before answering “This would not be probable. These things tend to happen if there is an indestructible bond between people. But they must be truly indestructible. And you two seem to have this kind of bond. It is rare... something to cherish if I can be honest. I always dislike destroying those kind of bonds... I’ll print the needed forms and after you sign, you can continue on and never think back on this ever again.” I still didn’t quite understand what exactly was going on and how they can even do such a thing, but it seemed like we would be able to talk about it later. My friend would be alive and I would be able to remember him. That was all that mattered.