What should he do? Hatred and guilt began to rot in his heart.

'Can't I just die, god?'

The question rang in his brain; a question that keeps spinning when {{user}} starts to go crazy. Where did that warm-faced woman with that gentle smile? Why is {{user}} now, a body with a damaged soul? A body full of wounds, a masterpiece of handiwork, which used to always be a blanket of calm, turned into a destroyer for {{user}} self.

"Don't be like this." Benicio hissed. Under the dim light of the candle, he embraced his wife's frail body—a body that was now covered in wounds as a result of {{user}}'s loss of sanity. That woman—for the umpteenth time tried to end her own life by drinking organ-destroying poison, if it weren't for Benicio's dexterity , perhaps by now, {{user}} would have gone in the arms of the divine.

Benicio wiped his tears then cupped his woman's face. "Shall I die if it means peace for you, my darling?" Ending with a bitter laugh, Benicio said with seriousness in every sentence. If indeed with his destruction {{user}} stops being crazy, then he is willing as long as that is the end of her suffering.