Still she leaps ahead of golden flames of fire that chase lightning-fast feet, desperately trying to escape-rejection, pain, fear, and now a badly battered body. She runs toward anyone, OR anything that might cover her. Once more she glances back at the raging inferno and, oddly enough, her blissful marriage at 6 years to Peter Calhoun zipped through her mind. It is first love, marriage, giggling, snuggling and a way out of her mother's domination. It is also Peter's fist that misses her face and lands on her three-month old baby girl's jaw. The scream pouring out of her baby's mouth can never be forgotten.The superpower of that image lifts her from the ground and her scorched senses fill her with unlimited power. She's crazy. In that state she sees from another dimension. Little black girls growing from babies to brutally battered women, afraid and conquered. "Oh, no. Never." Is this moment real? Is she dying