2025-2026, Borgesian Fiction

"The Death of Lucia Valentine" – Sydney Capel '27

No one disputes the facts of the accident. It occurred at 2:17 a.m. on a highway outside the city. The tour bus failed to complete a curve that it had managed on three prior occasions without incident. What remains disputed, and perhaps will always remain so, is what Lucia forgot. 

She recognized her own name when it was spoken, though it sounded to her like a name borrowed from another life. She recognized her mother and father sitting by her bed with tears in their eyes. She recognized the smell of disinfectant and distant echoes of shoes shuffling in the hallway. What she could not make out, though, was the woman whose face appeared on every screen in the room, singing under stadium lights.

“That’s you,” the doctor informed her, and everyone in the room held their breath, waiting for the revelation to occur. But that could not be her. Lucia remembered her affinity for music, but to suggest that she was the woman selling out stadiums of fans was ridiculous. 

“That is quite impossible, we must just look alike,” Lucia knew that it was not her. She could not recall the songs, glittery outfits, and crowds of adoring fans. Lucia noticed how everyone's eyes drifted from her to each other, as if they were speaking in some sort of code.

Eventually, the doctors said the damage was temporal rather than physical. When Lucia awoke, she could remember only a quieter self, a person who knew the anonymous dignity of walking unnamed streets, and the pleasure of hearing a song without recognizing her own voice in it. Fame now recounted to her by others seemed like an extravagant myth.  She studied photographs of her former life with the polite curiosity one grants a stranger, suspecting that fame is not an event one lives through, but a story told afterward, endlessly revised. In forgetting the future she had already lived, Lucia discovered a troubling possibility, that the truest version of a person may only exist in the life no one bothers to remember. 

Lucia was transferred to a secluded rehabilitation center in the middle of nowhere. Her manager and parents found a woman by the name of Angelica Furi, who specialized in memory restoration. No one knew how Angelica Furi worked, but the people in Lucia's life were desperate to bring her back. Lucia did not understand the big fuss. She was hoping to return to her childhood home after being discharged from the hospital. She told her mom that she was excited to see their 5 year old dalmatian, Dottie. This is, perhaps, the moment her mother decided it would be best to send her to Angelica Furi because Dottie had died three days after Lucia released her second studio album. 

The car ride to the rehabilitation center was quiet, and the arrival was more so. When the family first heard about the woman who could bring Lucia back, they imagined a place that resembled a doctor's office. They imagined nurses in scrubs charting and taking care of patients, while Angelica Furi went through her mysterious process of healing. They, instead, were met with a house hidden behind trees, bushes, and vines. The exterior of the house that was not covered in green vines was a mix of indigo and violet. The door, which was wooden with flecks of silver and gold, was left unlocked. Upon entering, Lucia was hit with the overwhelming aroma of lavender and mint. It reminded her of the house her nana lived in when she was little. 

“You must be Lucia,” Angelica Furi appeared out of nowhere. Lucia started to think she had real brain damage because her skin appeared to be almost maroon. She was draped in a long, flowy dress that resembled the outside of her house. She had a silver scarf wrapped around her long black hair, and gold earrings that seemed too big for her head. 

“Yes, and you must be Ms. Furi.” Lucia did not exactly know how to interact. She had always been shy, even when she was little. She felt uncomfortable talking to people she did not know, especially when she was alone. She did feel a certain sense of ease as she stood in Ms. Furi’s workplace. 

“She is me. I am sensing that you are here to unlock a certain part of the brain that seems to have closed down for you.” Lucia was quite perplexed by this comment because she thought it would be rather obvious that she was there to have her memory restored. She also wondered why there were no other patients there.

“Yes, I am. Tell me, am I the only person getting your help?” 

“Why of course not, but my dear, you are a celebrity. I would not want you to feel uncomfortable during this process with all the wandering eyes. What we will do to restore your memory is quite an intimate thing.” Angelica Furi talked as if she had all the time in the world. She often paused between her words, almost as if she was searching for the exact right thing to say. She also elongated her vowels, which made everything she said take forever.  The mention of celebrity did not do anything for Lucia. She had listened to her music, watched the documentaries about her tour, and studied the candid photos posted by fans, but she still could not seem to understand how that was her life. 

“So how does this work?” Lucia hoped that they could get this over with sooner rather than later. She wanted to go home and rest after her accident. 

“Well, my dear, every patient of mine is different. For some, I can retrieve their lost memories in a matter of minutes, but for others it can be a long, grueling process.” 

And it was. Lucia stayed with Ms. Furi for weeks as she tried to regain her memories. She had drunk remedies, listened to spells, and seen Angelica do countless card readings, but nothing was working. Even Angelica seemed restless. After about a month and a half, Ms. Furi decided to try one last spell. 

 Ms. Furi gestured for her to sit on a green-and-indigo couch, with a silver throw blanket draped over the back. With each step Lucia took towards the coach, she felt like she should stop. The energy of the room no longer reminded her of her nanas' house. She did not listen to her instincts. After all the talk of her damaged brain, she chalked her nerves up to her accident. Maybe the Lucia she lost was less anxiety-ridden. She sat on the couch.

“Good, now lie down and close your eyes.” Lucia listened and lay her head on the itchy violet pillow at the right end of the couch. She kept her eyes tightly shut as Angelica Furi began speaking in a language she had never heard before.

“Arunta alime guya, numule stiva funoli meri. 

Arunta alime guya, numule stiva funoli meri. 

Arunta alime guya, numule stiva funoli meri. 

Arunta alime guya, numule stiva funoli meri. 

Arunta alime guya, numule stiva funoli meri.” As Angelica said her spell the last time, Lucia felt herself slowly drifting into another state of consciousness. She was not exactly asleep, but she was certainly not awake. She felt as though she was trapped inside her own body. She could still smell the lavender and mint, and she could feel the itchy pillow under her head, but she could not move. She could only see darkness, and her mind felt frozen. She wanted it to be over. She did not care about her memories; that was the people around her. She wanted to get up and run far away from Ms. Furi’s home. Then she could see it. 

She opened her eyes, but she was not in the colorful house covered in vines; she was in a Los Angeles recording studio, watching as a young woman, who resembled herself, strum to a guitar while humming. She walked towards herself but could not be noticed. As she continued walking, she was led to a stadium where thousands of people were screaming and dancing to her as she sang. She was taken to the Grammy Awards, where she gave a heartfelt acceptance speech for winning Best New Artist. All of the memories came flooding back to her. All of the songs, the crowds, the awards, the fame, came rushing back into her mind as if they had never left. 

Lucia opened her tearful eyes. She felt overwhelmed by emotion and memory. Her head was aching, and her senses were slow coming back. She let out a gasp, and the tears started streaming down her face. She got her life back…

Breaking News!

Global phenomenon Lucia Valentine passes away at the age of 24. Sources close to the artist say that it is due to the accident she faced earlier this week, and that they wish for privacy in prayers during this difficult time. Scroll down for related news.