tried crossing the street to meet with friends on the other side.  April was holding her younger brother’s hand when Mrs. Alice B. William’s SUV, ploughed into them.   Mrs William’s physical injuries were minor, but concerned paramedics removed the emotionally distraught woman from the scene of the accident, placing her in an ambulance.  The medics believed her mental state warranted a trip to the hospital.   Several police officers had to restrain Francis, who began smashing things in furious protest. They forcibly placed the kicking and screaming woman into in a patrol car and transported her to Battlefield Memorial Hospital.           Months after the fatal crash and death of her two precious children, April and Justin, who were the centrepiece of her life, the grieving mother struggled to deal with dreadful feelings of being incomplete.   Her heart felt like an empty cavity; a black hole that swallowed sorrow in large gulps, leaving her void of comfort.  The playful sounds and laughter that echoed throughout her home disappeared, replaced by an eerie silence that haunted Francis. Their violent deaths shattered her world; she was overwhelmed with grief and unable to manage the depression that kept her in tears, night and day.   She was alone, trapped in an abusive marriage.  The only two people that loved and filled her days with sunshine, tragedy ripped from her bosom.  All that remained was an obnoxious, overbearing malignancy that attached itself to her and is violently devouring her sanity, while purposefully trouncing upon her battered body, as he beats her into the graveyard of battered bones.   However, she chose to live with this hostile entity, even vowed to be his as long as life remained in her five-foot, four-inch, one hundred ten-pound frame.      After saying I Do, she had no idea that the man who made her feel so wonderful in the beginning of their head spinning, heart pounding romance, would someday become the monster that demonstrated what it felt like to be terrified by an individual who elevated evil to an unimaginable level.       Her husband George drank excessively and would often become violent when his demands weren’t met immediately.  Anything could ignite his explosive temper, especially when he has had a few drinks.   Prone to fits of rage his volatile personality would suddenly and without warning experience extreme transformations, changing from a passive, apologetic nature to something that resembled a ferocious, bloodthirsty beast.   Throughout these violent flare-ups, he would inflict serious damage to Francis’s five-foot, four-inch, one hundred ten-pound frame, making her a frequent visitor to the emergency room.   Despite the barrage of fists and feet, hitting, kicking and stomping her, the fatal blow was delivered by the most deplorable, despicable, vile act of contempt she had ever experienced from the barbarian she called her spouse.         During a visit with her doctor for a follow-appointment, a series of test was scheduled.   Because of the years of abuse to her body, Dr. Debbie Granger, her primary physician, ordered extensive blood work, MRI, CAT scans and a number of cultures of the fresh wounds on her back, as a precaution.   She was concerned with her patient getting an infection in the areas of her body that had not completely healed from the last assault that left her with a broken collarbone, lacerations on her arms, legs, back and seven of her top front teeth missing.    The doctor wanted to be curtain that the wounds, still oozing with puss, weren’t contaminated by the filth generated during the full contact altercations with her mate.  The scars her brutalized body displayed indicated that she had been an unwilling participate in many fierce battles, that left her bloody, sweaty and covered with the dust and dirt stirred up during these confrontations. The filthy