She was the girl born without emotions. She never felt anything at all. And yes she was born for she was human not some sort of artificial intelligence though she was quite often mistaken as one but this didn’t bother her as nothing bothered her. She lived he life up until about 12 completely and utterly dull, her lips pressed at a constant straight, neutral line. Some would consider this a blessing seeing that she would never feel pain or sadness but others a curse for joy and excitement would also run dry in her heart. She understood that the others around her had complex and varying emotions and knew she lacked them. People came to her for advice starting at a very young age for her advice was never blurred and her opinions never clouded with feeling.
One evening she decided that while the other girls her age were setting up lemonade stands, she would set up a donation stand for the generous people in her community to donate their spare emotions. She lay out a basket atop a table draped in a white table cloth. She sat herself in a metal folding chair and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, a young women dressed in a long black silk dress and a big, feathered black hat with a veil covering her beautiful face walked by. The woman was noticeably in distress and was crying with a handkerchief blotting away the tears streaming down her cheeks. She noticed the donation table and stopped dead in her tracks. “Why i have more than enough emotions to spare after my husband died in the war.” she managed to say through her sobs. The widowed woman placed her slim hand over her heart and extracted some of her grief before placing dropping it quickly into the basket. Grief was one of the heaviest emotions for when it landed in the basket the table bent as if a bowling ball had just been dropped instead. Instantly the girl eyes filled with tears and she cried for the first time in her life. She felt all of the pain of a young wife finding out her husband and father of her unborn baby was shot dead in the battle field. Her heart ached and her stomach turned and she didn’t stop crying for hours.
It was much later into the night, much too late for a young girl to still be out on the streets attending a donation stand, when a man, a drunken man, wobbled up to the table. He was bleeding from his head and looked as if he had just been in a bar fight. There were shards of glass dancing on his shoulders and he smelt very strongly of alcohol. The girl looked up from her sobbing and misery to see anger in his eyes. Swiftly, he seemed to scrape some of this anger out with a claw to his chest and threw the fury into the basket. The anger looked like a brilliant ball of fir He stammered away and out of sight. Not even a moment later the girl became filled with the fury of an intoxicated man who had lost in a bar fight after finding out his girlfriend had left him. She curled he knuckles and bit her lip and began to pace up and down beside the donation stand.
before the sun rose the nest day, half a dozen people had stopped to make emotion donations. All of these donations however had been emotions that people didn’t want. They didn’t care if this girl had to suffer their sorrows if it meant they could rid themselves of them. She felt a night of what some would call torture. She screamed and cried and hid and was in the middle of hiding under the table when a boy, a little older than her, strolled up to the stand. He had been having a good day and his heart had been filled with love, put there by his mother who had loved him very dearly. He was always taught to be generous and to spread love to all who needed it so he plucked some of the splendid emotion from his own chest and placed it gently into the basket. immediately, the girls heart swelled and her tears dried and a smile grew across her face. She crawled out from under the table and looked the boy in the eyes who had given her this amazing gift of salvation. Without knowing what else to do, she kissed him.