"Alas! How can you be so silly! Living is the most important thing!" The family's persuasion was more like a reproach. Aunt bowed her head and did not speak. I looked up at her, unable to guess what she was thinking. It was the midsummer seven years ago.

Aunt has depression, which I heard from my elders. Even so, I didn't realize that she was different from others. If anything, she is more loving and selfless than ordinary people, like a fat angel sent by heaven to protect me. My parents are busy with their work, and I need to take care of them 24 hours a day, three meals a day. My aunt always takes care of everything for me and shields me from the wind and rain. We hummed the same song, walked the same pace, and walked the same way. At the same time, she is more thoughtful than most people. The grievances I was crying about at the school have been forgotten by me half a day later, but my aunt can remember this matter for half a year or even longer, so her heartache continues. I once saw her sad for an invoice and shed tears for a quilt.

Spring and summer alternate, and autumn and winter come again. Aunt stayed in Zhengzhou to celebrate the New Year with us. Picking up the steamed bread, my aunt put the most beautiful flower scroll in my hand. "The new year and new weather should start from eating steamed bread!" I responded and gobbled up. Aunt looked at me and smiled.

The bell of the Spring Festival Gala sounded. It was the Spring Festival six years ago.

Six years ago, in February, it was surprisingly cold and it was raining. Back home, we went to Aunt's house without stopping. "This is the first time I have made a special trip back to my hometown to visit my aunt," I thought to myself. "How can it be such a time?"

The muddy ground and the overwhelming howling hit my senses, like the huge waves sweeping around me to walk towards the familiar but serious house. It's strange that my legs are weak and trembling. How can I support myself to walk. The houses became strange, the faces of relatives and elders twitched, and greetings became so weak. The pain that suicide brings to our whole family is indescribable and unforgettable. God took away his angel. My brain tells my legs to stop moving forward. Mother has begun to sob uncontrollably. The legs lost their command and sent the whole person into the living room. Mother began to wail and knelt beside her aunt. I walked forward trembling, feeling strange that my aunt was asleep, and I even had the urge to lean against her. What is death? How can I believe that my aunt is dead.

The cry sounds like a song of departure, sweeping the cold rain in February and crashing into the merciless earth.

The world is gray.

In the dead of night, I always think of my aunt. If you ask me when, I feel that my aunt really left. I will answer that Aunt will never leave. If separation is like leaving a song, I hope this song will lead to a new starting point and a new world belonging to my aunt.

Look, the stars are twinkling in the sky. Is that what you agree with, Aunt?