Some people are only pessimistic, some are only optimistic. Some may be just angry and others may be anxious. Everyone has just one emotion. One unique emotion. I was born an optimist. But why am I feeling… sad?
It was a cloudy day, with the sun barely shining light through the grey clouds. If it were any other day, I would’ve gotten out of bed hurriedly, excited for the day to come. But today, I don’t want to do anything. Today, I just wanted to stay home.
The door slowly creaked and my mom’s shrilly voice ran through the room. “It’s a nice day today! The weather is warm, it would be a nice day to go to the park. It’s not too sunny you know!” She laughed, nudging me.
“Can I just, stay home? I don’t want to.” I grumbled. Shortly after what I said, I heard a gasp from my mom, and she quickly brought my dad, who was an unsure.
“Honey, Felix is feeling, what is it? Sad!” She exasperated. “I’ve never seen anyone’s child be an emotional. I mean, it’s not that bad is it?”
No one was supposed to feel any other emotion they were born with.
“Well, I mean, maybe it’s just a phase?” Dad suggested. “Well, I don’t think that Felix is supposed to be feeling sad or pessimistic, should we call a doctor?” Dad quickly got out his phone, muttering a “are you sure Karen?” towards my mom and she quickly answered, “It’s probably for the best.”
Mom bent towards me, feeling my forehead to make sure I wasn’t sick. “It’ll be over soon, dear.” She whispered, leaving the room with dad.
“This is, Felix Deprime, yes?” A low voice grumbled. “Yea, thats our daughter, she was born an optimist, but is feeling a different emotion. Is something wrong? I surely hope not.” Mom rambled, earning a hand on the shoulder from Dad.
“I’ll take her to the clinic for further testing, that is, if you’ll allow me.” The doctor, I inferred, mumbled. He was probably a grumpy.
“Yea, anything, sure go ahead, I think that’s a good idea.” Dad hesitated. I didn’t want to go to the clinic. Only the, emotional, children go to the clinic. “I’m not an emotional!” I shrieked, as the doctor lifted my arm up. I tried to get his arm off me but his grip was too strong.
“I suggest you to close your eyes,” an unfamiliar voice stated, raising a syringe up to my arm. I didn’t realize there was an assistant in the room. It was too late. The syringe contacted my arm and everything went black.
I woke up to white walls, grey tiles, and a green-headed doctor by my side. They turned around, and yawned.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sorry, sorry. It’s just that I waited a long time for you to wake up. Sorry.” She smiled. I looked around at my surroundings, I realized I was attached to some sort of machine. “What- what are you doing?” I stuttered, as she reached over to put some sort of device on my head. I tried to reach over to stop her, but apparently, my arms were strapped on the chair.
My heart started to pick up its pace. “This won’t hurt, it’ll be quick.” The doctor uttered, placing the strange grey helmet onto my head.
“What are you going to do?” I shrieked, turning my left cheek toward her so she wouldn’t be able to strap the helmet underneath my chin.
“Please, it’s really quick, plus it won’t hurt. I’m just going to, uh, reprogram your emotional center.” She smiled apologetically, somehow finding a way to strap the helmet on. I didn’t know why an apologetic would choose to work at the clinic. It’s not the type of enviroment they should be in.
“No!” I yelled, “Stop it! I’m not an emotional!”
“Sorry,” she sighed, reaching to flick a bright red lever on the machine attached to the helmet.
“N-,” I yelled, having been cut off by the flick of the lever, and everything disappeared in a shroud of darkness.
“What did they do at the clinic?” Dad asked, with an anxious undertone in his voice. “It was fine, nothing happened,” I smiled.
“I don’t know about you, but, I’m feeling happier than usual for some reason today.”