"It's just a red sweater," some would say.
"But, you don't understand," she would answer "that red sweater is the sweater that I wore the first time he hit me in a fit of rage."
That's not just a red sweater.
And when she leaves him, she burns the sweater as a sign of a new, clean, fresh, start. And it's beautiful. It was necessary. It's healing.
But it's just a red sweater.
Don't underestimate the power of red sweaters. We all have them, to varying degrees. Of course, it doesn't make sense that something that objective can have that much power. But it does. We shouldn't be bashful about its destruction. The fire, in this case, brings freedom.
If there is a Hell, I think it's burning a lot of red sweaters.