The wind lifted the corners of her clothes, like a butterfly with wings about to be broken, fluttering desperately in the night sky.
Until I looked back at the scene of the little girl jumping down, the familiar curvature of her hair and clothes were like a dagger tempered with ice, piercing the chaotic consciousness - it turned out that the little girl who fell into the darkness had always been myself.
Intention: This clip is like a dagger tempered with ice, piercing the chaotic consciousness - it turns out that the little girl who fell into the darkness was always myself.