After Years, your brother will explain to others like this: "my sister committed suicide at age 20." December 20th in 2007, sky was clear. You passed through the day just like how it should be before. Getting things into order, leaving words about yourself. You cleaned up everything: throwing stuffs should have been thrown, returning things belonged to others. Then, you walked into a random hardware store. With the way you chose, like a ritual to be completed, you left this world seemed no longer memorizable. In an exceptionally plain and ordinary daily life, all of the relationships and affairs kept decomposing then moldering. For the first time and so near, death, I saw how it looks like.