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------I promised myself that I'd write about my mother so I'll give it a shot and what not. Lately my mother and I have been on good terms lately. I've had my ups and downs with her, well mostly downs as far as my memory goes. Perhaps I'm just thinking of it like that, but for now I don't know.

------My earliest memory, well I consider this my first memory, not sure if its chronologically correct because she claims that other things I remember was before this event happened. I consider this my first memory because I remember it clearly, unlike other stuff which she claims happen before, those are like oily swirls of blurred shadows and bright colors. I was around three or four years old I think. We were in Malaysia in the condo or apartment that we lived in. I'm asleep I remember because it was my mother that woken me up. I remember opening my eyes to the sight of her face.

------"Ani... Anika, wake up." She was lightly shoving my right shoulder. I was sleeping on my side on the white porcelain floor. Her face is blurry, but she was smiling I know because I remember the smile in her face with her lipstick on.

------"I have to go to work, I left you some frootloops." She pointed at the bowl. It had no milk, just dry frootloops because I was a baby; she placed the bowl near the door. She kissed me on the forehead, it was warm.

------"I love you, bye." She says, then she leaves.

------I was still tired so I came back to sleep, the white floor and walls dissipates under the darkness of my eyelids. And just like that, she and the whole world disappear. I remember waking up later on. There is no one in the house, just me. I didn't cry, I was too young to understand what isolation is and I knew she was coming back. I crawled to the bowl, and ate my cereal.

------The memory ends there. I think the point of me writing this was so that I can analyze my relationship with her, my bond with her. Since later on she would then leave me for a year to go to America, and the other unfortunate things I don't want to write about us, at least not yet. Mainly because its graphic and it hurts just even thinking about it. Anyways, I think that memory can support the fact that she loves me, that she cares. Yet the symbol of leaving me all by myself hurts so much because it connects to the other things I did later on in life.

------I'm sorry mother, for being a terrible daughter. I hope that you don't have to read this. But, I'm changing for the better. You and I make a great team when we work together, but we could also be a time bomb waiting to explode. I love you!

------This is Anikacy, Signing Out...