During the fire, my mother picked up my sister and my father carried my brother on his back and escaped. Leave me alone in the fire. My face was burned. From then on, I, who was coquettish and loved to compete for favors, became sensible. I'm going to die anyway. This little bit of love, whoever loves it wants it. But they regretted it, holding my skinny hand, you can have a little temper with us again, okay?
