I dreamed about her again and it took my breath away.
Her tears fell to the ground drop by drop, and she wanted to cry.
The knife lightly scratched his wrist, and blood flowed all over the floor.
I didn't go to save her, and my heart ached. I stood at the door of the bathroom, looking at her indifferently, but my body kept shaking.
My sister...
Is that you? In my side?
Is it you? By my side?
I think, so near, so far...
I think, so close, so far…
She died and I saw her body in the morgue.
It's cold and inaccessible.
Obviously... Obviously... She is such a warm person...
That year, I was fifteen and she was eighteen.