I remember most of it, she and my father were very neglectful, but your post reminds me about one time that left 7 year old me so confused and scared.
I felt really ill after school one day; sick, shivery and achey. It was my mum's 'bingo night' which meant she'd give us a sandwich for dinner, get ready and go to play Bingo until very late in the evening, leaving my dad playing on his playstation while we did whatever.
I laid on the sofa feeling awful, until I projectile vomited off the side of the sofa all over the living room floor. He heard me retch, saw the sick and didn't look up from his game. I asked for help, he rolled his eyes. I eventually just went to sleep covered in my own vomit, and the vomit splattered all over the floor.
My mum came home at midnight and asked what had happened, my dad said "she was sick" and pointed at me. She called me a dirty little bastard and dragged me to bed still covered in sick.
I think it might have been the first time that I properly realised that I'm on my own, no matter WHAT happens - if I'm I'll, scared or in danger, no matter what. Up till that point I think I thought they'd pull through for me if I really needed it.