My oldest memory is quite vivid. I was about 2 and a half to 3 years old. It took place a small time before I was run over. My mom was gone for a couple days. When she got home she was drunk. She had a boyfriend with her. We were hungry. I asked for something to eat, not for me but for my baby sister. I was beat by him so badly I could barely open my eyes. Then I was thrown in a closet for the rest of the day.