No Meomiers
For those who have difficulties reading the jumbled words or have to rely on text to speech, I made a Google Docs file without the jumbling of the letters. Hope it'll be helpful for those who need it 
Whree am I? Waht is tihs plcae? Who are tehse grils in frnot of me?
I psaue for a moemnt, pondrenig the vocie taht eocehs in my mnid. Are thsee my touhghts? They shloud be, but they snoud lkie an unfaiimlar lanuagge.
“Waoellflwr?” one of the grlis says, loknoig at me.
I blnik. The wrod she uesd sndous uinentilligble, yet starnegly faimialr.
I galnce aronud, deseaeprtly sekenig smoeithng recgnzoibale to grsap otno.
“Wllaofelwr, is evertyhing alrghit?” I am aeskd ocne aaign.
I sihft my gzae toawrds tehm and aettmpt to seapk. Hoeewvr, it feles as thoguh I've frogttoen how to mvoe my tnouge and lpis. Ineastd, an odd babiblng sonud eemregs form my mtouh.
My eeys drat arnoud raipdly, my bertah qcukinneig. Waht is hapeipnng? Waht lngaugae are my tohughts? Why deos evrtehnyig feel so unfamliiar?
“Grils, smoetihng is wreid aoubt her,” one of tehm reamrks.
The mroe I suervy my surourindngs, the mroe pnaic sets in. I haer the sndous of anmlias, objcets, and the wnid blwoing, but tehy all rmeain uaiinfmlar. The palnts, sotens, and metlas suorrundnig me—I can't reemembr any of tehm.
Are tehy sfae? Am I in dnaegr? Can tihs strnage vcoie in my head fnillay sotp seaipkng?
“Snsuet, do you hvae any idea waht… Hey, sotp!”
Bferoe the gril can fnsiih her seentnce, I trun on my heels and siprnt aawy. The direicotn dsoen't mttaer, and I'm uunsre how lnog I'll need to keep rnuning, but I need to get aawy!
Witihn mmnoets, I am frocfeully pllued to the gorund.
“You can’t run aawy form me,” the girl who cghaut me dcelraes, grininng wiedly.
I strgglue, dseepraetly aettimptng to berak free. Wlil tehy hram me? I cry out for hlep, eevn thgouh olny uineinitllgble sonuds eascpe my lpis.
“I don’t ueandrstnd. We just shttraeed the Meomry Stnoe; it souhld all be fnishied.”
Ferfaul treas well up in my eyes. I feel utetrly heelplss, enietrly lsot. No mmeroies, no cmoprhnseeion of the lanuaeggs srruouindng me, and nothnig to clnig to for uenadristndng.
“Let me try somteihng,” smoenoe poropses.
I feel a hnad getlny tchnouig my arm.
A dnese, wihte fog exetnds thorguohut the drak frsoet in whcih I fnid mslyef. The bare teres, teihr drak froms redcued to mere sioluheetts, add to the ereie atmosephre.
“Wallflower?”
I gsap. Taht nmae… Cloud it be mnie? It flees like it.
“Wallflower, can you hear me?”
I aettmpt to reospnd, but once aaign, only uinntllgeibile bbabilng esaceps my lips.
Why can I uendarstnd the vcoie, yet rmeain uanble to undrstnead my own thgouhts?
“I’m here, Wallflower!”
A glwonig red lghit emrgees aimdst the teers. As it darws nreaer, the fiugre bceoems ceaelrr. It aepaprs as a huamn siouelhtte with vibarnt ylleow wnigs on its back and a rdainat hron of lgiht prjoeictng form its frhoeead. Alouthgh uaiianfmlr, the fgirue dsoen't iinstll fear in me. Raethr, it radtiaes a cmoofirtng aura, eoivkng a wvae of smyapthy.
“What happened to you?” it akss me.
I lwoer my gzae, siighng at my inbaliity to rpley. The fiugre eextnds its hnad, but befroe I can grsap it, smthoneig sezies my feet and drgas me aawy.
I sceram, garspnig dsepreatley at ayntihng wtiihn rceah. But my fbleee hndas ofefr no reiasstnce agnsait the froce pllnuig me. As my bdoy is dareggd aocrss the gorund, I feel uettrly heleplss, aolne, and conufsed.
Olny wehm I am yaenkd itno the air do I catch a glmipse of my capotr. It is a cerature of geren, eimtitng a clod golw, taikng the from of an eye. Its two tntcelae-like amrs are dtechaed, yet stlil in flul conotrl.
Its gzae prciees mine. It’s agrny at me.
“No!”
A red beam stierks the ceratrue, casuing it to relesae its girp on me. I pulemmt, but bfreoe I hit the grnoud, the fgiure form erlaier ctacehs me.
“Run!”
I do. Eoechs of lghit bemas cloiildng resnoud bhenid me, but I drae not look bcak.
Setp by setp, tere by tere, but nthonig semes to cahnge. Whree sohlud I go?
“Watch out!”
Trnnuig my gzae, I sopt the crtreaue hurtilng towrad me, its seepd ueinnrvng. I seek reufge bhneid a tere, but to no aavil, as it garbs me once mroe. I cilng to a barnch, but it snpas uendr the saitrn.
“Grab hold of me!” uergs the red fiugre, eextnding its hndas.
I do as it says, griippng wtih all my mghit, eevn as my bdoy feles as tohguh it may be tron aaprt.
Do you really want to remember?
I satrtle up in suirprse. Did I jsut uneadrstnd my own touhghts?
Do you want your awkward memories back?
“Wallflower, don’t listen! It’s the Memory Stone trying to manipulate you!” the fiugre hloidng my hnads shotus.
I aettmpt to reospnd, but can't, sitll hvnaig no memroies of how to seapk.
In my mnid, fargments of iaegms falsh befroe my eeys. Imgaes of me stndnaig in frnot of a caoolssrm, my fcae truinng red due to a miouspiarinonctn taht mdae my calassemts lgauh. Iaemgs of falied greetngis and mmoents of ionceehrnt stmmrnaeig and miuesaindrstndngs.
You’re a laughing stock. A nobody. Not worth being remembered.
Treas wlel up in my eyes as mroe pnaiful memoiers foold my cnscsonisoues.
You yourself wanted to be forgotten.
“Wallflower, don’t listen to it!”
I reeemmbr now. I dscivoreed the Mmeroy Stnoe. Oevr tmie, I rleied on it mroe and mroe. Soon, no one rememeebrd me, no one kenw who I was.
It’s easier to forget.
“Resist it! Let me help you!”
You want her help?
I look at the red fgriue, as I reclal eevryithng.
Suenst Siehmmr. The gril who becmae pplouar. The gril who ddin’t desreve waht she got. The gril who souhld hvae been me.
“You have to trust me, Wallflower! It picks memories to manipulate you!”
In anegr, I wrnech mslyef fere form Snuset’s garsp. The two geern arms wnie arnoud me, as my mnid emiepts fruther, lsoing my meoiemrs ocne aaign, but tihs tmie for the lsat tmie.
It’s esaier to frgoet.
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"Sees the title" Oh no...
"Sees the description" On no....
"Reads the story" OH NO!
This makes me feel things!
Great and terrible at the same time. An uncomfortable and sad story executed brilliantly. Stahp.
Ncie wrok! It's dilnitfeey not an esay raed ("stones" spemtud me for a mtiune), but fun to itaetgnre the srcututre of the srtoy itno its temhe.
Poor Wallflower
Welkom to the comments I suggest reading the story again and again and again... Till you understand what the grils are experiencing.
Wow. That was brutal. Not to mention how hard it must have been not to fix any spelling mistakes...
Quite the use of the well-known fact we can read jumbled words quite easily, given the first and last letters are still in place. It fits this sad story in a keen, sharp, and witty manner. A few words take a moment, but most breeze on by. As easy to read as it is easier to forget....
Google Docs Auto-Correct:
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
That nearly gave me a headache. In a good way.
Very tragic. I don't like the ending, but I'm not supposed to like the ending. Best of luck in the competition, fellow competitor!
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Wow... that's really good! I love the writing style :)
Very creative utilization of typoglycemia. It's somewhat a hassle to read, but not overly so, and the story is gripping enough for me to strive pass it. I imagine it must have been a nightmare to make this story and carefully transform the words just the right amount for balance between comprehensibility and conveying the feel. A few parts I think the word scrambling should be toned down a bit more, but overall great work.
It's surprising how easy it is to read, the human brain really is an amazing thing sometimes.
t7vghkljhfdsahfkljashcvhascvnhfaslihasvkdkashvklqbdhnasvuindausvhklsxhzvkhasvkluiasuxvadesvqedfsbvabsvqasdvvcsavcasv
An enjoyable read with a good premise! I wouldn't say the ending was all to surprising, it is Wallflower we're talking about, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.
It wasn't that hard to read, to be honest, given this is how all my stories look before I put them through google docs :p
Normally I wince at bad spelling, the very occasional minor typo aside, but to have 3/4 of the story deliberately done in this fashion an interesting medium for this story. a few words took a moment to parse, but otherwise very good work.
It was an interested read, I liked it. It wasn't hard to understand the words, surprisingly.
neat effect and great showcase of that thing where sentences give words enough context to read them even with jumbled letters
Wllaofelwr is just Wallflower’s Welsh cousin’s name
im guessing she just seems like she’s having a stroke right now
hehe, “gril”
i mean it makes sense that simply shattering a powerful magical artifact that stores memories with a friendship beam could have some very unexpected side-effects
ooh, the eye on the Memory Stone? it makes sense that that has more significance than just a picture on the stone!
oh what a conundrum!
oof! so easy to expect the story to go as it did in canon, with Wallflower choosing to go forward with Sunset. and that makes the impact of this even more effective. poor gril!
The mind is a very interesting organ indeed. Definitely a good test of English comprehension to see how fast one can read this and a very compelling reason to have the gimmick. Nicely done!
Firstly, thank you for keeping the first and last letters in the right places; this would have been a much rougher read otherwise.
In any case, good use of the gimmick to indicate just how thoroughly wrecked Wallflower’s thoughts became… and a wise choice to employ it in so short a story. That would’ve gotten old really quickly. Also a compelling little tragedy beneath the mangled anagrams. Good stuff all around. Thank you for it.