fiction short story View

Wanting to Forget

Jackie Giles' short story is a tragedy told in retrospect, through memories that will never be forgotten.

by Jackie Giles

These are the things I no longer want to remember.


The way the air smells when it rains. It used to be one of my favourite things. Until that day. The day that everything changed.

I woke up with a smile realising it was pouring. Everyone would be out with rain boots and umbrellas and raincoats. When it rains, the whole world adopts a dress code. The whole world, rich or poor, tall or short, smart or dumb, has to choose how to deal with rain. But, as they say…

When it rains, it pours.

And that day wasn’t about me analysing and observing the people around me.

It was about her.

My vivacious, energetic sister. She was my best friend. She knew me inside and out and loved me in a way only a sister can.

White Chocolate. Caramel. Coffee:

My favourite drink.

Coffee drinks are like magic.

You get this steaming hot cup of liquid and suddenly you’re energised. You’re awake. You can function. I went to my favourite coffee shop that morning. I ordered my favourite drink and sipped it in a leisurely way, knowing exactly what the day would hold. Or what I thought it would hold. Now I can never drink that again. I can never go back there.

“Something about purple was invigorating. Like wearing the colour of royalty conferred some power on us.”


I can still feel the heat in my hands travelling up my arms, and the heat in the liquid travelling down my throat into my belly, telling me that today would be good.

But coffee can’t really talk. So I guess it’s my fault for believing a beverage.

Her voice shouting hello.

I remember looking up and being surprised. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Her voice filled me with happiness.

To see my sister was a treat. Her voice always sounded like love to me. It sounded like companionship. I can’t explain it except that I knew she loved me no matter what. Her love was conveyed in every syllable she uttered to me. Even the angry ones.

Bright purple.

One of our favourite colours. Something about purple was invigorating. Like wearing the colour of royalty conferred some power on us. Like it made us bigger and more confident. The colour of her purple big umbrella hitting the pavement is forever seared in my mind. The umbrella bounces as I look on helplessly as my sister’s broken body paints both the pavement and the umbrella red.

These are the things I no longer want to remember.

But will never forget.

Today, it is raining and the scent of petrichor fills the air but I don’t care about what colour rain boots my neighbor will wear. I can’t comfort myself with a steaming hot cup of coffee. I can’t comfort myself with anything. I no longer feel empowered by the colour purple. Because she is gone. I will never hear her voice again.

These are the things I no longer want to remember.


Jackie Giles | @jackie_giles | Instagram: jackieisadaydreamer |

Jackie Giles is a writer who can best be described as delightfully quirky. Her favourite things include flowers, old movies and funny sitcoms. She can generally be found working on one of the multiple books she hopes to publish.



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