Especially powerful are Elias’s inner monologues. His thoughts aren’t cold – they tremble. He’s not searching for salvation – he’s just afraid to be forgotten. He is no hero – he is a human being. And that is the weight, and wonder, of this novel.
The ending doesn’t punish – it frees.
Sophia, who pulls the trigger on the robot, doesn’t destroy love.
She returns it to where it always truly lived – in the heart, not in memory.
Conclusion
Remember Me, Save Me…
is not a story about the future.
It is a poem about love —
too alive to be preserved in steel.
This novel deserves to be debated, written about, remembered.
It is not a book you return to for the plot —
but for the person who is gone…
and somehow still here.
Rating: 9.5 / 10
Recommended for publication and screen adaptation.
Prologue to Remember Me, Save Me…
When Light First Fell on the Page
Los Angeles.
May.
The sun was already awake before anyone else —
playing with golden specks on the wall, on the railings,
on the cheek of a boy lying face-down in his pillow.
Elias wasn’t asleep.
He was waiting.
Though he didn’t know – for what.
Maybe for that kind of morning
that feels like a blank page.
When you breathe – and everything is new.
He got up, took his sketchbook, pencil, and a water flask.
He walked through the neighborhood, where the air smelled of jasmine,
chlorine from the parking lot, and sun-warmed dust.
The world felt quietly alive —
as if it had just woken up and hadn’t yet turned on the noise of the streets.
And then – he saw her.
She was sitting beneath the tree next door,
in a light tank top, with a book,
and the sunlight touched her hair
as if it were painting her portrait itself.
He didn’t know her name.
She was new.
Had just moved in yesterday.
But he sat on the curb, opened his sketchbook —
and started to draw.
His fingers trembled.
Not from fear.
From discovery.
She suddenly looked up.
And saw him.
But didn’t look away.
She smiled.
And closed the book.
– “Are you drawing?”
– “Sometimes.”
– “Will you draw me?”
– “I already am.”
She came closer. Sat beside him.
Just like that.
As if she had known him forever.
And suddenly said:
– “I’m Sophia. And you?”
– “Elias.”
They fell silent.
Listening to the wind.
Each believing —
this day was the first.
Of something
that would last forever.
Because no one ever knows
in which gaze the spark is lit —