Disclaimer: No, I don't own Charmed. I will never own Charmed. This idea is, however, mine. Do not plagerize it! Feel free, however, to write sequals and be inspired. Let me know, and I'd be happy to read it.

Summary/Description: This is a fanfiction written in Phoebe's point of view as she looks back on her one memmory of her mother. I hope you enjoy it, reviews are welcomed but I can't seem to get my new email working.

I wasn't the quietest baby in the world, by far. I had a thing with staying up until two in the morning, screaming my lungs out until my mother came in and got me. But I don't really remember any of that- just that Grams used to tell me what a horror I was. It scared my mother to death when, at nearly three, I'd still lay in there screaming. Maybe I was having nightmares, who really knows? No one in my family was a mind reader, and all of my memories from that age have faded. I don't remember my favorite toy, my best friend in the world, my favorite color, my favorite animal...nothing. I suppose it's because I had a 50 track mind...that never slowed down for even a minute.

I don't remember how my mother smiled at me, or how she gave me a kiss on the forehead every night after working, or how she used to come in my room in the morning practically singing with joy- like Prue and Piper remember. I don't remember how her hands stroked my hair or my back when I was crying, I just don't remember. It used to hurt me so bad, to know that I wouldn't have a memory left of my mother. The woman who gave birth to me. The woman a child loves most, out of the entire world. You know, nine out of ten kids who are abused even, would rather stay with their parents. I wasn't abused. But for most of my life, I felt abandoned.

My dreams and my memories deserted me. My mother left me. My father left me. And Grams was just always so...unaccepting. She was very strict in her Christian 'law' and never allowed any room to breathe. So imagine a lonely five-year-old girl who was even abandoned by her memories. That was me.

I was the loudest. That was no secret. I was the fastest, and I was the loudest, and I was the roughest. In fact, Grams told me that when my mom would play with me, she'd throw me on the bed. Not really hard, but the harder I landed the more I laughed. I don't remember that either, but I was only an infant. Even if I still had my mom, it wouldn't make much of a difference on that note.

Prue and Piper used to always teaze me about how I never really got to know her. "She'd have to knock before she came into your dreams" "I wouldn't be surprized if she's forgotten all about you" and things like that. I pretended that it didn't really bother me, but it did. There are a few instances that I remember, being a little girl- no older than eight years old- going to bed and crying myself to sleep. That was when I wasn't very loud, but I used to cry myself to sleep because I knew that they were telling the truth. And of course, at that age, I thought it was my fault. It was my own fault that she died- as a natural reaction I was blaming myself.

It wasn't until I got a little older that I realized that I really do have a memory left. I was almost three, I remember that much. I believe it was just a couple weeks before my birthday, and I woke up screaming. If I had ever been asleep. That I don't remember. But I remember that I was scared, and who better to see when you're afraid than mommy? Of course, Grams and Dad were up too... every one supposed there was a miracle going on because my sister's didn't wake up.

At that point, my mom did what she usually did. She took my temperature, gave me a sippy cup with warm milk, called the doctor, and let me stay up a little while and watch TV. It normally didn't take that long, only about ten minutes, but I wasn't in a very sleepy mood that night. 15 minutes passed. Then 20. Dad and Grams were getting ready to pass out, while mom was pacing. She always panicked when I got up like this.

"Mommy?" I don't remember what my voice sounded like, but in my head I kind of imagine it being a bit whiney. Like I was talking through my nose or some thing.

"Yes?" I know what her voice sounded like, just from being back in time. I can remember exactly what she sounded like. She must've been expecting me to give her some thing to let her know that I was ready for bed. No such luck.

"Dance!" I giggled, outstretching my hand. "I wanna dance." I took her finger into my hand, and held it tightly.

"Will you go to bed after we dance?" she asked, crouching down on my level. I grinned ecstatically.

"I promise mommy." I told her innocently, and she smiled at me agreeingly.

"What do you want to dance to?" she asked, opening the CD Player.

"Hmm... Christmas Songs!" I grinned thoughtfully. "How about Rudolf?"

She nodded, laughing slightly, and put the CD in. The music started, and my mom and I danced the night away- well, for about 5 minutes until the song was over. Of course, I wasn't quite three yet, and I was clumsy, so I wasn't the best dancer in the world...but mom didn't mind. She followed me, and some times I'd follow her but end up messing the whole thing up. I think that this was the last time I woke up screaming, too. Afterwards, she took me into bed and laid me down.

"Thank you mommy."

"You're welcome baby girl."

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, my angel."