My First Memory

The first memory I can remember having is of me waking up in my crib and seeing two figures looming above me. Although I'm not sure if figures is the right way to describe it. Two presences. They were connected, entangled, swirling in light. I remember feeling overwhelmed. Unsure if I felt catastrophic fear or comfort. I fled. I went to my parents' room. But I still remember them speaking to me, and I don't think I trusted them. I wish I would've stayed, or that they'll show up again. But I know they won't, and I'm glad for that. Maybe they're why I'm so obsessed with light and stars. Evangelicals. Pastel purples, lavenders, yellows, pinks, greens, blues. Searching for an answer or maybe a replication. But nothing will ever come close, not even my own memory where they reside.