The Hollow Heart

     Once there was a little heart. A little heart that was hollow inside. It could feel no love, no joy, nothing. It was empty as empty could be. Other hearts couldn't care less about such a small heart, more so that it could return no emotion. To them, such a small thing was insignificant. It was not worth anything, and thus they treated it like it was non-existent.

     The heart felt like its entire being was the same as what was inside it, nothing but air. It could feel no emotion so it could neither feel sad nor sorry for itself. It just stood by, not knowing how much of life it was missing. 

     One day, a bright red heart approached the small hollow heart. It asked why the little heart was alone.

     "I've always been alone," said the hollow heart. "Should I not be?"

     The bright heart frowned at how nonchalantly the little one spoke. It knew not what it was missing because it never had it. The poor little heart had been given no sympathy, no care from a family, no love from another. 

     The bright heart said, "Come, follow me." It took the little heart under its care, showering it with love and attention.

     The little heart only kept following, not feeling any different, not understanding what the bright heart was doing for it. The bright heart played games with the hollow heart, explored new places with it and cared for it when it was sick or hurt.

     However, the little heart was still unaware of how much love it was being given. It felt a flurry of new emotions but did not know it. It felt happiness but did not know that it was happiness. It felt excited at discovering new things but did not know the feeling. Worse of all, the hollow heart felt loved, but it had been denied love for so long that it did not even know what love was nor how it felt.

     One day when the hollow heart visited the bright heart's home, the bright heart was nowhere to be found. The poor little heart searched everywhere for the bright heart but failed to find it. Instead, the little hollow heart found a pile of broken objects in the house. Among those objects scattered in the house was a half-crushed box with "Little Heart" scribbled upon it.

     Inside the box, the little heart set its gaze on a sparkly necklace. The hollow heart knew that the bight heart was not one to just leave such a mess in its house. Someone or something had taken away the bright heart.

     For the first time, and without knowing it, the hollow heart felt sadness. It was a strange, raw feeling. The hollow heart curled up because of a foreign feeling of being unable to speak, the strange feeling of a warm fluid gathering in its eyes, all coupled with a puzzling urge to release all of it. It cried for the first time, not even knowing that it was.

     As the little heart cried out, it caught glimpses of familar objects on the clutter-ladden floor. 

     In front of her laid a torn box of crayons -- crayons that they used to draw together. On the left was an unused bandage with little flowers decorating its exterior. Those were the same bandages that the bright heart used to cover the little heart's wounds.

     The little heart then found a little book behind it, each page covered with the bright heart's loopy handwriting. The words written on the pages made the little heart want to cry out even more for reasons it did not understand.

     'I found a poor little heart today. It was all alone. I decided to take it in."

     'The little one was covered in wounds! It must have felt so hurt, sad... or I hope it did. It doesn't seem to be showing any sort of emotion. I am very worried for it.'

     'Today, I brought it crayons and we drew together. It drew a picure of itself, so I drew myself beside it.'

     'We went to a beautiful garden today, I saw something in its eyes... I hope that was an emotion.'

     'I wonder if this little one has ever smiled, laughed, cried or gotten angry before. It deserves to feel as much as everyone else. We live to experience these emotions, what would living without them be for? Life is all about finding our own happiness, what other reason would we have to live if we couldn't experience happiness?'

     'I think the little one nearly smiled today! I truly love this child. It deserves more than it had before.'

     The little heart kept the little book. It finally understood. All of those strange and foreign sensations, could they all have been emotions? Could the hollow heart, the one who could not feel emotions, actually have experienced them? Could this little heart truly have been loved?

     The heart reflected upon itself and recognized an unfamilar feeling of fullness it did not have before. 

     The hollow heart was no longer hollow. It had been given so much love, so much care that even its hollowness was filled by all of those emotions.

     With renewed vigor and the realization of a new self, the little heart set out to find its precious friend who had changed its life. Along the way, it showed love and care to other hearts who had less just as the bright heart did for it.

The End.

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A/N: This just came out of nowhere and I wrote it as quickly as I could. If you're reading this, then thank you so much for giving this little thing a read!