today's writing prompt:

You live in a world which you can buy bottled emotions

Draft 1

In a shopping plaza, sandwiched between the Gap and the Yellow Finn Sushi restaurant, is a shop called The Feels. It's a place where people can buy bottled emotions to alter or enhance their own.

Happiness is always sold out. Anger, sadness and sorrow rarely sell and have a thick coating of dust to prove it.

If these unpleasant emotions ever get purchaced, they're are usually purchased by someone with malicious intent; a woman who is sick of her mother in laws lack of empathy towards her struggle with chronic-illness-induced depression and fatigue, constant guilt laden BS statements like "people choose happiness," and "I'm sure you're not that tired," or "you should eat yogurt. It's full of good bacteria. That should fix you health- it did wonders for Jaime Lee Curtis."

Then there's the employee sick of the Pollyanna cheeriness of a loud, extroverted, rosy cheeked, dimpled co worker who's never been sad a day in his life that everybody wishes got kidnapped and slowly tortured by Hannibal. Yes, irritated coworkers are big sadness buyers.

Kayla, a 23 year old college drop out, had been working at the feels for five months. the screening process was far from rigorous; the employer desperately needed a replacement employee after the previous week, The cashier, Tom, had stolen serveral bottles of Happiness, OD'ed bad became manic, dropped out of college, sold all his possessions and moved to India to "achieve Nirvana." No one had heard from him since.

His parents had recently threatened to sue Robert, the store owner, to which he threatened to counter sue because the whole, ya know, stealing and consuming store goods bit, all conveniently caught on security footage.

Needless to say, Robert, down to one other employee, needed a fast replacement so he could attend to buisness overseas. He'd worry about the details later.

Devon jolted into painful consciousness. Every inch of his body screamed. Deep lacerations covered him from head to toe. One leg was broken, jutting out unnaturally from his pant leg. His breathing was labored. Each inhalation carried a strong smell of earth and blood. The frigid fall air transformed his breath into small vapor clouds that hovered over his face for half a second before vanishing.

Devon slowly opened his eyes. He could only make out blurred silhouettes. He blinked a few times and his vision slowly sharpened. It was night. He tried to sit up but pain overpowered his efforts. Wincing, he turned his head. Devon let out an anguished cry as he recognized the almond shaped eyes of his 10 year old sister, Leela, staring lifelessly back at him, encircled in a pool of her own blood. With great effort he rolled onto his stomach and pulled his mangled body over to her. He touched her bloody cheek, and placed his finger over her lips, hoping for a confirmation of life. Nothing. He had failed. All these years as her guardian and it was over. She was dead.

Hot tears blurred his vision. Overcome with grief and weakened from his injuries, his arms buckled under the weight of his pain and despair. He eased himself on to his back at Leela's side. Above, the inky black sky glittered with stars, indifferent to the carnage had just been unleashed on their small village.

Devon knew death was near. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he weakly grasped for Leela's tiny hand and interlocked his fingers in hers. "I'm...sorry...." He breathed. His eyes fell shut, hiding the dark sky and its unfeeling stars. The sensation of pain and sadness began to fade as death tugged at Devon, pulling his soul from his body. "I’m coming, Leela," He whispered.

Slap!

Death released his grip and Devon was painfully conscious once more, his left cheek stinging furiously.

Slap!

He gasped and opened his eyes, cheek stinging. Perched above him was a woman in black robes, arm raised for a third slap, but hastily lowered at the sight of the rudely revived Devon.

“Oh, good!” She exclaimed, relief washing over face, “I’m not too late!”

Her concerned jade eyes locked anxiously onto his. Her face was pale, framed by thick brown curls that were tucked under a black hooded robe with a few stray locks dangling in front of her face. She had strange faintly glowing blue marking across the left side of her face and ran down her neck.

Anger flashed in Devon's eyes. In a burst of strength his arm shot up and he grabbed her throat and squeezed. "You!" He yelled. "You're one of them! I'll kill you!" A flash of panic crossed the woman's face but quickly dissipated as Devon's arm went slack and fell weakly to his side, unable exert even the slightest force. He resigned himself to angrily glaring at her, who or whatever she was.

"I’m not what I seem, I swear! You must believe me. Devon, we don't have much time- do you want to stop the monsters that murdered your family?" she asked.

He winced in pain as his attempt to laugh failed. "How? Woman, you are mad! I’m dying! I’m not in any state for vengeance." Devon wheezed.

"I can save you!" She insisted, looking anxiously left to right, then back at Devon. “Please, we don't have much time, hear me out!"

Devon struggled to make sense of this bizarre situation. In the last two days his parents were killed someone-or something, dark and strange--not human, that appeared after dusk, accompanied by a handful of robed and marked people like the woman crouched at his side. The following night “it” came back for Devon and his baby sister, Leela.

Now he was being assaulted by a strange woman, trying to enlist him fight, when his broken body clearly showed death was the only thing he was capable of, now.

"How?!”Devon asked angrily. Do you not see the state of my body!? I'm beyond repair!"

"I have a remedy." She whispered, eyes nervously scanning the surrounding area. "When you drink it you will die and then return, stronger and more powerful than a normal man. You will join others like you with power to stop this force taking over this land." She continued, "Hurry! You need to decide quickly! We're running out of time! Do you want to avenge your family? Your sister? Or do you want to die a useless death and leave thousands to experience the same fate?" He eyed her skeptically, then turned his head once more to face Leela. His eyes stung with fresh tears the sight of her lifeless body.

"No," He choked. "I'll do it. Give me your drink."

Relief flickered across the woman’s face. She shot a pale hand into a pouch around her waist, fumbled around until her fingers wrapped around a cold, clear vial with a glowing blue liquid. She whipped it out, hurriedly popped the lid and held it to Devon's lips. She tilted the bottle and poured the potion into his mouth. The liquid was cold and sweet. It made Devon’s mouth tingle as it passed his tongue and flowed down his throat. He turned to look at Leela one last time. In a few seconds Leela’s face, the world and its pains faded once more. Devon was dead.

Fun. Friends. Family. Food, Cake & Ice cream and gifts. Good things. Many look forward to birthdays. Not me. Not when it comes to parties held for my brother's small army of young children.

My brother and his wife live in a small, two bedroom apartment. It's meager proportions means no where to hide. Hide from the plethora of rockus screeching children. Five loud, Jumping, yelling, crying, tantrum-ing, inserting choking hazards in their mouths, unhygienic children.

There's also no escaping my brother's in-laws. A vulgar couple united by their love of ballon art- We'll call the mother the Mean Heartbreaker, her new husband- a cautionary tale for on the importance of underwear, the Underwear Poster Child. And then there's the ex-husband, we'll call him Mumble Mumble as he is usually having a mumbly conversation with or without someone.

Me and my sister - a pair of introverts cower on couch, lost in a sea of toys in the cramped living room, doing our best to weather the non stop assault to our ear drums. Our close proximity to the in-laws leaves sitting prey for assault by small talk from the Mumble Mumble, Mean Heartbreaker and Underwear Poster Child.

These conversations are a lot like being felt up by a creepy first date -all encounters leave you feeling violated and a little dirty.

As all family's involved are devoutly Mormon, there is no alcohol to sooth nerves rubbed raw by loud children and unsolicited social intercourse.

Then comes the cake. Everyone gathers to deliver a lackluster rendition of "happy birthday,"

The kids who already possess ample energy are the given sugar in the form of cake and ice cream. The transformation that takes place next is terrifying. The insuing sugar high leads to increased wild behavior followed by a tired, you-need-nap-like-five-hours-ago melt down complete with shrieks reminiscent of a pig being slaughtered.

The horror.

This process will be repeated several times as the five children's births are peppered throughout the year.

Help us.

#birthdays #hell

Prologue

Devon jolted into painful consciousness. I every inch of his body screamed. Deep lacerations covered his body, at least his legs were broken and twisted at angles. He smelled earth mixed with blood. The air was frigid and transformed his shallow breaths into vapor. He turned his head and opened his eyes. He tried to sit up but the pain overpowered his efforts. He saw nothing but blurred silhouettes. He blinked twice and his vision slowly sharpened. Devon let out a voiceless scream as he recognized the almond shaped eyes of his 10 year old sister, Leela, staring lifelessly back at him, her body laying in a pool of her own blood. He failed. All these years as her guardian and it was over. She was dead.

With great effort he rolled onto his stomach and pulled his mangled body over to her, he touch her bloody cheek, and placed his finger over her lips, hoping for to feel a hint of life. Nothing.

Tears blurred his vision. His arms buckled under the weight of his despair and pain and he eased himself on to his back at Leela's side. The night sky above glittered with stars, indifferent to the carnage had just been unleashed on their small village, and the hell that would be let loose in a years time.

Devon knew death was near. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he grasped for Leela's tiny hand and interlocked his fingers in hers. "I'm...sorry...." He breathed. His eyes fell shut, hiding the unfeeling stars. The sensation of pain and sadness began to fade as death tugged at Devon, pulling him soul from his body. "Wait for me Leela, Leela," he whispered. " We'll cross over...together."

Slap!

Death released his grip and Devon was painfully conscious once more.

Slap!

He gasped and opened his eyes, cheek stinging. Perched above him was a women in black robes, arm raised for a third slap, but hastily lowered at the rudely awakened Devon. Her piercing green eyes held his gaze. Her face was pale, framed by thick brown curls that were tucked under her hood with a few stray locks dangling in front of her face. She had strange blue marking across the left side of her face that ran down her neck, giving off a faint glow. Anger flashed in Devon's eyes. In a burst of strength his arm shot up and he grabbed her throat and squeezed. "You!" He yelled. "You're one of them! I'll kill you!" A flash of panic crossed the woman's face but quickly faded as Devon's arm went slack and fell weakly to his side.

"No! I'm not! I swear! He hissed."I'm not one of them- only pretending to be. Devon, we don't have much time- do you want to stop the monsters that murdered your family?" She asked.

He winced in pain as his attempt to laugh failed. "Woman, you are mad! I'm a broken beyond mending. Not exactly fit for battle." Devon grunted.

"I can save you!" She insisted, looking anxiously from left right, then back at Devon."Hear me out- we don't have much time!"

"How?! "Devon asked angrily. Do you not see the state of my body!? I'm beyond repair!"

"I have a potion." She continued. "When you drink it you will die and then return, stronger and more powerful than ten soldiers. I've been watching you for weeks- you have skills that we need. You will join army of warriors with power to stop this force taking over this land." She continued, "Hurry Devon! You need to decide quickly. We're running out of time! Do you want to avenge your village? Your family? Your sister? Or do you want to die a useless death and leave thousands to experience the same fate?" He turned his head once more to face Leela. His face contorted in pain at the sight of her lifeless body.

"No," He choked. "I'll do it. Give me your potion."

The woman's eyes brightened. She shot a pale hand into a pouch around her waist, fumbled around until her fingers wrapped around a cold, blue vial. She whipped it out, hurriedly popped the lid and held it to Devon's lips. She tilted the bottle and poured it into his mouth. The liquid was sweet and made his mouth tingle. It flowed down his throat. In a few seconds the anxious, concerned face of his strange rescuer as the world and its pains faded once more. Devon slipped into nothingness.

It was a dark and stormy night. "Big woop," thought Archie, the centuries old immortal. Archie walked from the fridge, carrying the vanilla creamer across the tastefully decorated kitchen of his modern home nestled in the countryside of England. He poured a teaspoon of creamer in his cup of steamy soul chai, and stirred it until it stopped screaming and the creamer was well mixed. "Being undead just isn't what it used to be,"he thought wistfully to himself. He absent mindedly wiped a little soul residue on his soft flannel pajama bottoms and trudged into the living room, chai in hand. He sat down on his soft leather arm chair and picked up the remote. His favorite show would be on soon.