They are on fire. The fumes of resentment taint the air around them—but the fire is solely internal for now. It flickers in their stomach, waiting for the moment to consume them entirely. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

The fire is the malevolence inside, igniting from the day of pain. They regularly feed the fire, dragging up the kindling memories of what she did. They want revenge. They want to be hated.

They want to let the fire consume them so they can pour their rage at her. They want her to feel the pain that she caused them, even though she more than likely cannot remember what she has done. They want everyone to turn their backs on her, because to them, that’s what she deserves.

She doesn’t remember, and that’s gasoline to their flames. She could do something so heartless and forget, keep going on, and never look back. She could simply not even think to make the futile attempt at a mumbled apology.

In their mind, not only what she did was wrong, but she herself was wrong. This poisonous mindset led them to a false conclusion: if she is wrong, and they are hated by wrongness, they believe they should be considered good. Should they be? Can true goodness be hated at all, even by the most wrong?

Their fury was incited long ago. She is not the same person she once was—she is a completely different human. They do not know her now, unfortunately. They can only remember her former self, and they cannot make the effort to take in her current state.

Perhaps this is because they do not want to accept that they have been scorching their insides for a now possibly invalid point. They want to retain the image of her ruthlessness—not a new snapshot of who she is. Instead, they destroy the camera in the fire, cutting off the other track in their train of thought.

If they were to lift the camera and peek through the viewfinder, they would find the truth. She may possibly not have changed at the core; she could have retained her devious personality and caused the fire to erupt as quickly as it had first spawned. 

On the other hand, they might find something of the polar opposite.

They might hold the camera to their face, squint one eye, and see her heart a different shape. Maybe the hurt she caused consumed her every day. Maybe she did remember. Maybe, just maybe, from that day forward, she decided to better herself in regret of what she had done.

They sit there, feeling the fire crackle as its heavy weight tries to fill the hole inside of them. They are still considering whether to extinguish the fire or let themself go up in flames. Each was so tempting, but neither was so appealing. Should they risk being the wrong one by pursuing revenge, or should they let her carry on with her life and let her forget what she had done?