I Choose the Third Option

When I was eight years old, I hid in a dry well and looked out through the crack at the mouth of the well. My mother was tied to the rack and when the fire was lit, she glanced towards me. I've remembered that look for ten years - it's not despair, it's "don't say anything". I said nothing. She is dead. Ten years later, mass graves. A little girl was lying on the ground, looking back at me - exactly like my mother. I couldn't save my mother. So I stood up and said to her captors: "Catch me. I'm her accomplice." The man was stunned: "Do you know what she is? She is a monster!" I laughed: "What a coincidence, so am I." Later I learned that my mother left me more than just a last word. She sealed the blood inside me. My blood can explode stones, heal serious injuries, and defeat anything that wants to defeat me. But the price is: every time you use it, you forget something. First I forgot what she looked like when she smiled. Then there was her voice. Finally, I might forget— Why am I doing all this. But I don't regret it. Because I am not here to burn people, nor am I here to be burned. I'm here to take the third path. If you go on, you will know—— How much can you remember, how much can you forget, and how much can you live?