21 Brook Street

1 ◆ ◆ Death ◆ ◆

Sylvia's P.O.V.

The day I moved in, I was so excited. I loved my uncle Thomas. He was so exciting.

I remember pulling up to the drive.

"A man died here last Wednesday." he said, pointing to some police tape at the end of the road.

"My God" I said.

"People die. That's life" He replied with finality.

My childish heart quivered. A man died. But it was true. Death is just a part of life. I didn't even know the man. I couldn't feel bad about it. Because I wouldn't be feeling bad about his death at all. I'd be feeling good about myself, because I was feeling bad and that's what you're supposed to do. And you're never supposed to feel the way people tell you to feel, because then it's not real. Emotions are messed up like that. They won't do what they're meant to.

It's like when your cat runs away. You miss him, but a part of you is surprised how little you miss him. Now you won't have to feed him. Sort his litter box out. No more vets fees. No white hairs on all your black clothing.

Or that teacher that's a total asshole. Makes you stay behind after school for talking, or yells at you for no real reason. You're meant to hate him. But really you admire him. He has so much power. Every time he yells at another kid you stifle a giggle.

Emotions should never be socially acceptable.

If they are then they're not your real emotions.

A/N Hello there reader! Thank you for taking the time to read my story. You can expect the majority of the chapters to be very brief as this is a short story. All votes, comments and feedback really make my day. I hope you enjoy reading the rest of this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it.