Forsy walked into the garage. "Hey, have you seen my weed spr-"
Before her stood Erika, with a tied-up man she held a knife over. Fear came over Forsy's face, but she stepped forward anyway. A moment of silence was shared as Forsy interpreted what was in front of her. For some reason she couldn't place, Erika was terrified of speaking first. The words which breached the silence were quiet, but firm. "Why are you doing this to him? I don't understand."
They stood silent for another moment, Forsy's eyes shifting slowly between the knife in Erika's hand, the pleading eyes of the gagged captive, and Erika herself, motionless, but hiding her fear with practiced ease.
"Of course you don't understand. You don't know what he's done. He attacked me in my own home! And what I'm about to do to him? He would do the same to me and even you in a heartb-" "No!" Forsy's outburst broke Erika's facade for a moment, and even the eyes of her lone audience member lit up with surprise at her vulnerability.
"I don't care why you're doing this to him. I don't understand why you would ever do this to anybody." Forsy's voice shook as she tried not to break down, but she slowly came forward as she spoke. "I know why some people would do this, I just... I don't understand why you would."
"I guess you don't know me as well as you think you do."
"I think... actually, I know you better than you do. At least in one place." Her hands trembling, she gently reached for Erika's knife.
"What are you doing? Do you think you're going to fight me? You're weak." She relinquished the knife, knowing that Forsy was less likely to hurt her than she was to hurt herself if she tried to use it against her. Despite her gentle move for it, she grasped it tightly once she held it.
"Why would I want to fight you?" Her resolve was finally breaking, but she held the knife flat against her chest with two hands, struggling to speak past her own tears. "If you really need to hurt him that badly, take it back from me."
"You came in here talking a big game and this is what you've got? Give that back, you little shit!" Erika lunged at Forsy. "What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? You come in here telling me you don't understand, and this is how you act about something you don't even get? Leave shit like this to people like me, who live in the real world!"
In only as long as it took her to say that, she had already overpowered the kicking and screaming Forsy. "Leave if you know what's good for you." She turned her gaze back to her freshly terrified victim and plunged her blade into his bicep. She adjusted her grip to tear the muscle in two. She would cripple him. She would show Forsy how little that sentimental bullshit mattered. She would show herself how little it mattered. His eyes pleaded for her to stop almost as loudly as Forsy did.
"Is this really who you are?"
"Yes! It is! And you can't do a damn thing about it!"
"But you can!"
Erika stopped. She had felt this hesitation before, but always pushed past it. For the first time, she wondered if it was strength that she drew on to do so. She reluctantly slid the knife out of its bloody sheath, to the man's agony and delight, and sliced his gag and bindings. "Fuck off, both of you." The man was happy to oblige her command, sprinting away without so much as thanking her. Forsy didn't move, at first. "You heard me. You got what you wanted. I hate myself even more now. So fuck off."
Forsythia stood up, still crying but no longer sobbing. She turned to leave. As the door closed behind her, she muttered audibly, "I don't hate you." Erika screamed at her through the closed door and her own tears. "You should!"