Rocking, gnashing, blood, and fire.

"You're a weakling, Mary Walker, you always have been."

No, no, my pleas are dire!

"He will never love you, or come back to you again."

Straightjackets, needles, cuffs.

"You're a weakling, Mary Walker, you always have been."

No, no, I didn't love him enough.

"He will never stop until you are dead."

Screaming, clawing, scratching, blood.

"You're a weakling, Mary Walker, you always have been."

No, no I was always good!

"But you are still a weakling…you always have been!"

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tearing away at her skin, the woman who always fights from within, must be restrained. The light of a swinging lamp, shows her forehead is damp, from the battle she fights in her mind. The men in white coats hold her arms, so that she do herself no harm, as the fire within her eyes rage. Poor Mistress Mary, so contrary over the battle over what's right. Poor Typhoid Mary, so contrary over her Devil that Dares the nght.