So Dot never talked to anyone. He was a stubborn and autistic child, talking to himself, holding his father's urn with fantasies and warmth, trying to be him, listening to himself playing the piano like him, and being silent like him.
Wanting to become another person is a very sad and hopeless struggle. I lose myself and neglect myself. I wholeheartedly dig out any memory related to him from the memory, the arc of his smile, the posture of his walking, the way he speaks, and he likes to wear it. The color, his taste. I wholeheartedly hope that one day the person I see in the mirror is no longer me, but the person I can't stay with me anyway.
Dot hopes to just keep her father by her side and not have any relationship with anyone else, but she can't live a truly quiet life like her father. In the new home, the husband and wife who look divorced, the incestuous father and daughter, the classmates who keep confiding to her, she constantly Disturbed, there is nowhere to escape.
Then she rejected the good-looking boys, killed the godfather who tried to rape Nina, and buried the bloody gown to the prom.
Before sunrise, the mother had committed the crime for the two girls. Dot listened to Nina playing the piano with his back leaning on the piano like his father did. Then they played together and they smiled at each other.
Each buried his father and their bitter and difficult love.
Tomorrow is always fresh and there is always hope.
No one can become anyone, deceiving yourself and others will have nowhere to go. Like Dot, we are all the same.
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