I walked down the shopping aisle, tips of my fingers softly touching the tightly sealed bottles as my eyes glanced, reading one by one of their labels.
Happiness.
The liquid inside was light yellow, twinkling, like stars beneath the dark, night sky.
Anger.
Red liquid was bottled up inside, flaring red like the fiery breath of a dragon, and as warm as the nice breeze blowing in summer.
Sadness.
It was dark blue, as blue as the beautiful sea at night, and dense. Flowing, raging rapidly as it swirls in the bottle, eager for a way out.
In my world, everyone needs a bottled up emotions in order to show…well… emotions, for we can’t feel, or create them ourselves. Whenever there’s a funeral, people would flood the sadness isle, whenever there’s a wedding, people would flood the happiness aisle. That’s how we lived, from birth to death.
Despite millions of emotions sold everywhere in this country, there’s only one they couldn’t create. One that’s so special, so unique, so different, but existed. It was the feeling of love.
Only few have felt love; it was the only one that comes naturally. It says that if you find the one whom you are bound to be together, then will it come. Mom says that love is when you looked into the other’s eyes; you will know he’s the one. You could feel butterflies in your tummy, and sparks will fly.
I closed my eyes, imagining it. Sparks fly? Does it feel like fireworks? And butterflies in our tummies? Like when you’re nervous? My hands pick up a bottle of ‘nervous’ emotion (really, why would anyone buy this emotion?) and some bottles of ‘happiness’ emotions. I don’t know what to do with those, but what I do know is that I wanted to create the ‘love’ emotions.
At home, I tossed my groceries into the kitchen, picking up the bottles of emotion and brought them upstairs, to my own personal lab. The lab was enormous, much more than my own bedroom, there are windows in every corner, showing picturesque sceneries, the ceiling is high up, and lamps light up every corner of the room.
As I put the bottles near a leather bound alchemy book and concoctions, my phone downstairs rang. I left my lab as I leaped out and dash.
“Hello.”
“Hello dear.” I knew that voice anywhere. It was mum.
“Why are you calling me? Is everything alright at home?” Concern laced my voice –despite my flat tone-for mum never calls this late.
“Yes, yes, dear. Although, I need you to come here this morning. Wear nice clothes. There’s a marvellous surprise for you.” Her cheerful voice gave me suspicions. What kind of surprise?
We talked and talked and talked and talked before mum had to hang up because dad is having a problem. I chuckled before I said goodnight.
My morning consists of me running around, trying to do my morning routine five times faster. The last thing is to choose ‘nice clothes’. I settled with a sky blue dress, which was picked randomly from my three dresses, and drinking half a bottle of ‘happy’ emotion, because I’m happy to be seeing my parents.
As I arrived at my parents’ house, I noticed an unfamiliar car parked outside. Thinking nothing of it, my small, slender feet nonchalantly stepped in without knocking.
“MOM!” I shouted.
In less than a minute, mom walked out of the kitchen… along with Aunt Angeline, her younger sister. Once I saw her, I squealed in happiness