Ana (name could change)
"So, Ana," I started. "Just to get down do it, what is your earliest memory?"
Ana stared at me, "Why are you asking this?"
"Curiosity?" I said. "I have been thinking about it and have been asking some people, what is yours?"
"You're asking," Ana smiled, "What is yours?"
I sighed. "Okay, I remember my grandmother, my dad's mother. She died before I turned 5." I shrugged. "I remember almost like a snapshot seeing her in the hospital. They let us up to see her even though we were small children because she was dying."
"Then I remember her funeral, more clearly. I remember when everyone got in a line to go past the casket. There was a kneeling bench there. A couple of my dad's brother's families are catholic so I guess they need one or something. But I saw them kneel and pray and when it was my turn, I kneeled on the bench before my grandmother's casket and prayed. I was taught that praying was talking to God. I knew my grandmother had died so I prayed that God tell my grandmother that I love her."
Ana smiled, "That is cute."
I shrug, "Well it is true." I took a sip of my drink. We were sitting in a coffee shop. I had a frappachino. I'm not much on coffee but the strawberry creme drinks are awesome. "Your turn."
Ana smiled. "Well my third birthday. My mom was baking a cake and she had left the kitchen to do laundry and I wanted to see my cake."
"This does not sound good."
"She had put it on the cupboard. Fresh out of the oven and I got a chair and I pushed it over to the counter. I reached out and touched the cake pan right out of the oven."
I shook my head, "Ouch," I said.
"That isn't it," Ana smiled. "I burnt my hand but the shock of the burn made me jump and I fell off the chair as well and cut open my head." She chuckled a bit at the memory. "I needed three stitches."
"I think that a lot of the memories I asked others for and such all have some extreme pain or emotion."
"What is this about emotion?" Adrian asked. He pulled up a chair. He sat down with a steaming cup of coffee. It was very light, Adrian liked it filled with cream.
Nico quietly sat down opposite of Adrian as well.
"We were talking about first memories. What is yours?"
Adrian shook his head, "You do not want to know."
I smiled, "I asked, I want to know."
"Nico?" He sighed. "Well mine was just waking up one time when I was five or so and no one was around. The house was silent. I got out of bed and wandered around and didn't find anyone. I sat down and started to cry in the middle of the living room and my Mother walked in."
Adrian frowned, "Mine is of my birth parents. My dad slapped around my mother then when I cried he slapped me too."
"You are adopted?" Ana asked.
Adrian nodded, "My parents were not stable and were eventually convicted of drug abuse. I was taken into foster care and adopted."
I nodded, "That would be scary. Thank you for telling me."