Artificial Memory (DISCONT'D BUT WILL UPLOAD UNEDITED CHAPTERS)

Chapter 1: I Get My Ass Handed To Me By High School Kids

"Hey, can you grab me that carton of eggs?"

Memory asked me, holding a stainless steel pan over the stove top and swirling melted butter around its surface.

I let out a grunt of affirmation and stood from where I sat at the table. I headed to the fridge and grabbed the eggs, then handed them to Memory while I closed the fridge door.

My mother had taught Memory how to cook many meals and he had become the unofficial chef as he was way better at cooking than I was. He enjoyed it, too.

"How do ya want your eggs?"

He asked me with a smile.

I waved my hand dismissively, sighing,

"Over easy I guess."

He nodded and began cracking eggs into the pan.

Glancing up from my Toshiba laptop, I watched him work at the stove. I screwed up my face while I felt the weird fluttering sensation in my chest like I always did when I saw him.

I didn't much care for him at first, other than the fact that he was my responsibility, but now I'd begun to love him. Well, I didn't really care if he chose to love me or not, but it was nice to imagine the possibility of him loving me in return.

He wasn't much more attractive than any other boy I'd seen around school, but I suppose it was his personality that hit me like a train. He was a few inches shorter than me, had little muscle despite the uncanny strength he displayed, and feathery black hair with white bangs.

I, on the other hand, am lanky, freckled, and have a girl's face and body. My black and blonde hair was always messy and looked awful whenever it was trimmed, but I preferred looking this way than like a girl.

Anyways, he's oblivious to my growing affections for him and I'd like to keep it at that.

Without warning, he turned and grinned mischievously at me. I gritted my teeth and glared.

"What're you looking at?"

He asked teasingly.

"NOT YOU, YOU USELESS DINK!! I'M DAMN HUNGRY AND YOU'RE COOKING SO IM OBVIOUSLY LOOKING AT THE FOOD!!"

I snapped at him, prompting a smile.

My mother walked into the room, yawning.

"You shouldn't yell at him. He might cry."

She laughed.

"Good."

I muttered, taking a sip of my tea.

My mother and I shared the same dark violet eyes and blonde hair, but that was about it. Her hair was long and wavy, reaching halfway down her back, but she held it in place over her right shoulder with a pink and white flower hair clip. She had a beautiful hourglass figure and ignored taunting from her coworkers that she should've stayed married to my father, being such a beautiful woman.

However, she usually smiles and silences them with her sharp tongue. Saying that might make her seem like a sassy, no-nonsense woman, right? Wrong. She's actually got the maturity level of a child and acts as such on most occasions. It's quite endearing, actually.

"You're quite mean, you know?"

Memory said with a grin.

I shrugged.

Before long, he had finished cooking and served us all eggs and bacon. He sat at the table with a sigh.

"I tried something new with some spices I found in the pantry, so the bacon might taste different."