Level 1 memory bin: Very easily accessible. Like an open door, memories flow in and out, allowing my day to day function. Items that would fall into this category would be things such as exam schedules, dental appointments, and the name of my new roommate Quinn.
Level 2 memory bin: A little more difficult to gain entry than Level 1. More like a closed door, where it takes some actual effort to recall these memories. Examples include the time Linda fell down the stairs and broke her collarbone, when I accidentally washed her favorite cashmere sweater in hot water and dried it on high heat, the unfortunate occasion when she attempted to make chicken pot pie, and the death of all the animals Linda brought home. Not necessarily the most terrifying of my memories, but definitely not the best.
Level 3 memory bin: These remain safely behind a locked door, for which only I have the key, and are mostly a lump sum of some pretty painful memories from my past. Some happy, some sad, but all memories that are guaranteed to bring heartbreak over and over again. So, they remain locked safely in Level 3.
Level 4 memory bin: Steel door, passcode, and retinal scan required for entry. Some of the most painful of my recollections. The death of my mother, the death of my sister, and the pain associated with both will forever stay hidden in this place.
Level 5 memory bin: Top Secret military clearance required. Titanium encases a steel vault buried approximately thirty feet underground. It’s booby-trapped with C4 and other deadly explosives which will be detonated if anyone comes within ten feet. Only one memory resides here, never to be freed again.
Like I said, I had a lot of time on my hands.
But now, as I eye the person in front of me cautiously, it becomes painfully obvious that my Level 3 memory bin has been compromised.
Either that or somehow I unknowing relinquished a key to the one and only…
Kaeleb Kristopher McMadden.
Under the Influence Page 29