We now see her slumped on the floor, she’s sitting in front of one particular monitor, maybe her worst memory. She is wondering if this is what death will feel like forever, if she will be forced to face this every single day of her after life. The image she is sitting in front of is dark for the most part, except for the little sliver of light coming through the curtains. In the image is the boy she identified as “Ji”, he is laying in bed. Next to him is a woman, a woman that is not the girl in front of the screen.

We assume, that the girl does not know this woman. There are tears, different from the one tear she shed for him. These are not silent tears, they are heavy, within them are all the things she’s felt ever since she discovered that moment. The images kept flickering. The girl kept crying.  We zoom out, noticing that the images following this one are all dark. Though the sound is muted, we can tell that the couple is yelling quite loudly. The next on is raining, the flashes across the image let us know there is lightning in the memory. She doesn’t want these memories, she wants them erased.

The last monitor doesn’t flicker. The picture moves without faults. This image, the girl does not recognize. After a few sobs, she wipes the tears and moves toward the last monitor. The light in the monitor is faded, we see a small beach house. The camera in the image changes angles, we are now in the house. It’s clean, on the walls there are pictures, these pictures she recognizes. They are pictures taken long ago. Of her, of the boy known as “Ji”. There is a wedding picture positioned atop the fire place, next to it sits a picture of an infant. The camera moves upstairs to a neatly organized bedroom. On the wall above the bed is a picture collage, the progression of age. The infant in the other picture is growing, she doesn’t recognize this child. But it becomes evident that it is hers. Her eyes widen as the camera moves to the nightstand by the bed. There we see another picture this one in a golden picture frame, it is rather large. Next to the picture is a tall, thick, white candle. Another tear escapes the girls eyes as we look at the smiling faces of an elderly couple. This particular monitor is not a memory, the camera in the monitor moves to the corner of the picture. “The Leaders of the Kwon clan.” The girl gasps at the words.

Suddenly we are catapulted backwards, the girl is left staring wide eyed, tears falling, in front of the monitor. Our view becomes smaller and smaller as we travel further back. This is not our only stop, we have many more to make.