My Earliest Memory by Emma Cerra

When thinking back to my earliest memory, I wonder why I remembered it. It’s a really odd memory, hazy to the point where I feel like it could’ve been some weird dream I had some while ago and made my brain assume that it was a memory (if that makes sense). My first memory I know is from before I was five, since it involves me being in preschool— before kindergarten. I remember being nervous, so I’m guessing it was my absolute first day there or the first day coming back from summer. Anyways, I remember climbing these stairs and reaching some sort of cubby hallway. My mom put away my little bag for me, and a girl with black hair came up to me with a paper plate that had banana slices on it; each slice was stabbed with a toothpick to grab. She offered me one. I said no. I don’t like bananas. That’s all I remember about it.