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I still love her. She's been gone for six months now. Six months, three days, and seventeen hours. She was in Atlanta when it happened. Yeah, that IT.
When I was a kid, the end of the world was supposed to be us versus the Russians. Ten years ago, it was supposed to be us versus the terrorists. Now, it's us versus... we don't know. All the cities that disappeared in that one terrible instant are back, like they never were gone. But they were gone. For a little over three days, Atlanta didn't exist. Neither did New York, San Diego, Dallas, London, hell, a couple dozen cities across the world. When, no while they were gone it was like they'd never been built. The land where the cities had been was untouched wilderness, with the cutoff parts of highways or bridges, or subways just stopping at a rough border.
Every religious zealot across the planet proclaimed it the end of the world. Sometimes, I'm not certain they were wrong. And most of us waited, and prayed, or got drunk, or whatever. Waiting for the end.
But it wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.
After three days, the cities returned. Everything seemed the same, at first glance. No ruined buildings, no mad exodus from the affected cities. And from what anyone could tell, no one who had been in those cities that had just gone away even realized they had been gone. They knew that time had passed. They had lived those three days. They just hadn't experienced anything odd at all. No glowing lights in the night sky, no aliens, nothing.
But we didn't have the whole picture yet.
Pretty soon, it was obvious that not everyone in the cities had made it back. Thousands of people from each city were just gone. But only us, only the people who had stayed here, who had not gone wherever Atlanta and New York had gone remembered them. In some cases, entire families disappeared. In others, a son or a daughter was gone, and if their parents had been with them, they didn't even remember the kid at all. It was like they never existed, but only the people on the outside knew that they were supposed to exist.
Amanda was one of them. We lived on the outskirts of Atlanta. She'd gone into the city to see her parents, and to buy some school clothes for Megan, our little girl. I could have gone with them. I should have.
Soon after Atlanta returned, I got a call from Amanda's parents, asking me to come pick Megan up. It took hours to drive those few miles, working my way through the roadblocks, wondering why Amanda hadn't called instead of her father. When I found out, I couldn't understand it, or accept it. Megan doesn't remember her mother. Amanda's parents don't remember their daughter. They know I'm their son-in-law, but that's as far as I can really get with them. It doesn't even seem to bother them that without their daughter, it's impossible for me to be their son-in-law. It's impossible for Megan even to exist if Amanda doesn't.
I wish I could explain it better. I can't.
I can't explain how any of this could happen. Or still be happening.
People are still disappearing from those cities. Some of them are... there's no good way to say it... normal kidnappings and runaways, because their families and their friends remember them. Some of them aren't. Some people just disappear, not only never to be seen again, but never to be remembered again. Whoever or whatever is causing it, it doesn't seem to affect anyone outside the original areas. Yet.
When I was a kid, the end of the world was supposed to be us versus the Russians. Ten years ago, it was supposed to be us versus the terrorists. Now, it's us versus... we don't know. All the cities that disappeared in that one terrible instant are back, like they never were gone. But they were gone. For a little over three days, Atlanta didn't exist. Neither did New York, San Diego, Dallas, London, hell, a couple dozen cities across the world. When, no while they were gone it was like they'd never been built. The land where the cities had been was untouched wilderness, with the cutoff parts of highways or bridges, or subways just stopping at a rough border.
Every religious zealot across the planet proclaimed it the end of the world. Sometimes, I'm not certain they were wrong. And most of us waited, and prayed, or got drunk, or whatever. Waiting for the end.
But it wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.
After three days, the cities returned. Everything seemed the same, at first glance. No ruined buildings, no mad exodus from the affected cities. And from what anyone could tell, no one who had been in those cities that had just gone away even realized they had been gone. They knew that time had passed. They had lived those three days. They just hadn't experienced anything odd at all. No glowing lights in the night sky, no aliens, nothing.
But we didn't have the whole picture yet.
Pretty soon, it was obvious that not everyone in the cities had made it back. Thousands of people from each city were just gone. But only us, only the people who had stayed here, who had not gone wherever Atlanta and New York had gone remembered them. In some cases, entire families disappeared. In others, a son or a daughter was gone, and if their parents had been with them, they didn't even remember the kid at all. It was like they never existed, but only the people on the outside knew that they were supposed to exist.
Amanda was one of them. We lived on the outskirts of Atlanta. She'd gone into the city to see her parents, and to buy some school clothes for Megan, our little girl. I could have gone with them. I should have.
Soon after Atlanta returned, I got a call from Amanda's parents, asking me to come pick Megan up. It took hours to drive those few miles, working my way through the roadblocks, wondering why Amanda hadn't called instead of her father. When I found out, I couldn't understand it, or accept it. Megan doesn't remember her mother. Amanda's parents don't remember their daughter. They know I'm their son-in-law, but that's as far as I can really get with them. It doesn't even seem to bother them that without their daughter, it's impossible for me to be their son-in-law. It's impossible for Megan even to exist if Amanda doesn't.
I wish I could explain it better. I can't.
I can't explain how any of this could happen. Or still be happening.
People are still disappearing from those cities. Some of them are... there's no good way to say it... normal kidnappings and runaways, because their families and their friends remember them. Some of them aren't. Some people just disappear, not only never to be seen again, but never to be remembered again. Whoever or whatever is causing it, it doesn't seem to affect anyone outside the original areas. Yet.