When I was young—I can never distinguish human age between 5 and 10 so suffice to say I was small and defenseless—I found myself separated from my parents in a busy mall. I can only recall the moment I saw my parents walking away one floor above and scurrying up an escalator to be with them. I was young, emotionally charged, and with undeveloped cognitive functions that inhibited me from realizing I was trying to go up a descending escalator. My little legs could not power me up against the seemingly powerful force dragging me down. There, blurry vision, screaming at the retreating backs of my parents, in that moment the thought that I might be completely alone found its place to me for the first time.
This is the earliest memory I have of my existence.