As big of a nasty brute as he was, the man still feared his wife. True fear. He could even swear to it. The woman was a demon in disguise. He ran and ran. Didn't stop. Didn't look back. Useless. Utterly, completely useless. You ing pathetic bastard. You ing bastard.

"You ing bastard!" Footsteps came rolling in like thunder from behind. Against his will, he grew tired. Against his will, his body moved in slow motion. Heart pounding, legs buckling, sky falling. Despite it all, he lurched forward farther and farther away from the concrete jungle and out into an abandoned clearing.

Her screams consisting of short, coarse blasphemy lashed out at his blistering heels. And finally, he felt those demonic nails digging deep into his face  and neck. Layers and layers of skin and hair tore from his scalp. The flames of pain consumed him and he fell helplessly in the first light of dawn. He rolled over, a feeble attempt to shield himself from her vicious attack. She flipped him back. Her face came into view and he could clearly see the bandages wrapped around her head the many stitches running down from her face to her neck.

"How could you do this and then run away?! You killed them, Bob. You killed our children! Our family, Bob. Our flesh and blood... and you destroyed them!"

He laid there frozen like the rest of the surrounding. What luck. His ears buzzed from having her scream so near. She kicked, punched, and pounded him like a giant meat tenderizer. Her warm saliva burst from her open mouth like an animal. "Why, Bob? Why? Why did you have to go and hurt them? Hurting me wasn't enough so you had to hurt them too?" Her screams broke down into a sob. She stomped down on his face and he could feel his front teeth caving in.

It must have been a sight to see. Covered in blood, the swelling rendered his eyes useless. But she wasn't done. No, far from it. With his scraped cheek pressing firmly against the ground, he could make out the sound of a metal pipe dragging.

"You were supposed to stay with them, Bob. I told you I was working late. Just for one night and you couldn't even do that..." Her voice trembled as the metal pipe struck his back. It became harder and harder for him to breathe as she continued strike every part of his now tender body.

"Were you out ing some little again, Bob? While your sons burned to death... you were... you sick ing bastard!" She showered him with more steel. The sky came down on him like a pancake press.

Piercing pain sprung from his chest. Stabbed with his own broken rib. The irony. His body aided her in her moment of madness. Come closer, you crazy .

"Oh my god..." She collapsed beside him. "I've killed him." She leaned in to check for a pulse and that was enough. Enough to make the reckless transition. And before he died from bleeding, the transition was complete.

Her mind. A riot, complete with pitchforks and an angry mob. The deadly poison of indifference clashed with the soul of human emotions. Too rash. Too quick. Memories of one being blending into another. Who was she now? Maggie. Bob's wife. Peter and Bobby's mother. She had not shed a single tear for them. Her family. Gone. Their love. Extinct. This was what her life amounted to. No. She still loved them. Despite all the other voices in her head, she loved them. Peter, Bobby, and Bob.

"I want you to know, Bob. I loved you so much that my heart ached and  I will probably love you until the end of my days but know this, Bob. I will never forgive. I forgive you for everything else but not this. Our children, Bob. I will never forgive you!" She kissed his raw bloody cheek. "Good bye, Bob."

She stood up and shook the dirt from her dress. Not a look back, she staggered away without stopping. She was at fault too and she knew it. So clear was the day. She kept walking forward, her bare feet scrapping against whatever surface was under them. Snap out of it. No control. Consecutive transitions had weakened her to the point of pure exhaustion. She climbed up the trench and crawled into the middle of the street, ready to embrace the on coming headlights. And then, she felt herself being hurled back. But it wasn't a car that had sent her flying.

"Maggie! Maggie! Are you alright?"

She looked up to see black spots obscuring her vision.

"Maggie! Do you know how dangerous that was? Didn't you hear me calling you?"

She blinked a few times. With the absence of tears, it was painful like the back of her eyelids were made of abrasive sand paper. She opened her eyes and this time, there was a face belonging to a woman. She knew this woman but what was her name? Maggie. No. That was her name. What was this woman's name? Xinling. It's Xinling. 

"Right... Xinling..." The curtain had fallen on another act of her life. A tragic act played on a cruel stage.