March 8, 1989.

Maria, 22- is my mother. The two year old daughter is me. When i was two, my  mom and her sister (my aunt) were on their way to work when their car stalled and they stopped to the side when a car hit them from behind. My aunt died at the scene. 

I am still not sure if what i remember or think i remember is actually a memory. But what i remember is vivid. It's like one of those memories that when i think about it i get those knots in my stomach and i have to tell myself to stop thinking about it because all i can see is my aunt's long black hair covering the steering wheel while her head rests on it. I remember being woken up by sirens and blue and red lights flashing in my eyes and i remember waking up crying. My mom was wearing a white sweater that was covered in blood and i remember shattered glass everywhere i looked. 

I still don't know if it's a dream or a memory. Or if it's a made up memory from what i've heard. But it's so vivid and it haunts me every day.