The Benefactor

I tell a tale.

I was three years old. An age where everything is new. Sights. Sounds. People.

It was late in the evening. Its surprising how I still remember the minor details. People tell me they barely remember anything from when they were really small. ‘I do’, I scream out, albeit silently. Within the confines of my brain. So no one can hear. Or understand.

Mom was carrying me back home. I lifted my cheek and received her kiss. I still feel the implant when I concentrate really hard. It’s like a tangible presence. Instantly reassuring.

And then a shriek as a car rams into her. A feeling of weightlessness as I fall to the ground. A lot of blood. The image of the scared man at the wheel in the car, forever implanted in my memory. The car speeding away.

The sight of my fallen mother on the road. Immobile. A crowd forming around us.

‘It’s a miracle the kid is unhurt’

‘The lady is dead!’

The siren of an ambulance. Strong arms lifting me away.

My earliest memory.

I tell a tale. A tale that began with my earliest memory.

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I started writing this, and somehow couldnt continue :-(