The Memory Collector’s shop sits at the edge of New Tokyo, where neon signs flicker against the wet streets. Inside, I, Jayla Solara, sit, staring at my collection, thousands of crystal vials line the walls, each containing someone’s discarded memories: childhood memories, birthdays, moments of triumph. I’d seen them all, traded them all. But nothing like this.
The vial in my hands pulsed with a gentle and soft purple hue of light, unlike anything in my collection. The label, yellowed by age, read simply: “Empathy, 2025 – Last Known Sample.”
My hands tremble as my heart beats faster. In a world where people voluntarily extracted and sold their ability to feel for others, this wasn’t just rare – it was extinct. The last pure sample of what once made us human.
The shop’s bell chimes as a woman in a navy suit enters, her heels clicking against the floor with each step she takes.
“I hear you’ve found something special,” the woman says, her eyes gleaming with a cold calculation. “Name your price.”
“I’m not sure if I’m willing to sell it,” I say, staring deep into the woman’s eyes.
“Well of course you want to sell it, especially for the price I’m willing to offer for it.”
I sit here contemplating it all. Do I really want to sell this, the most precious vial I have ever collected. Who knows what the woman will do with it, but I do need the money.
“How would you feel about 1 million dollars?”
This takes me by surprise. Would she really be willing to pay that much? I take a few seconds to acknowledge what just happened but before I can say anything, she continues.
“How about 10 million dollars?”
“That is a lot of money Mam, but I am still unsure if I want to sell it,” I reply shocked.
Then, another loud bell chime rings in my ear. A little boy enters the shop and walks to the counter where I stand.
“Can I buy my grandmother’s memories? She’s sick and I really need them,” the little child begs.
“Yes of course, just give me her name and information and I can find that for you.”
Once I finish helping the kid, I turn back to the memory broker. With what just happened with that child, it causes a conflict in my brain. I don’t want to sell this, I want to help humanity feel again.
I hold the vial near my heart, thinking about the entire situation. Then, a strange feeling arises in my body. Like a brief flash of forgotten feelings. I quickly pull the vial away from me, noticing the feeling fading away.
“I am willing to pay you a hundred million dollars,” the woman talks again, disrupting me from my thoughts.
“I don’t want to sell it,” I say firmly.
As I say this, 3 men walk into the shop.
They all start talking at the same time, each interested in the vial. The first one, a scientist wants the vial to study it and replicate it.The second man, more aggressively talks, explaining he is a government official, and threatens to seize it from me. Lastly, a philanthropist. A young man who claims he’ll share it with the world.
The only tempting offer is the scientist. Maybe we could work together and replicate the vial to share it with the world. Maybe everyone could feel again.
As all four of them argue with each other, each offering higher bids, I sit in my thoughts. Suddenly, as if it was responding, the empathy vial in my hands starts to glow. It makes me remember when I was a kid and empathy was first being extracted and sold. Everyone was so greedy and in search of money, they lost sight of true emotions, they ignored them. It pains me to think about it. It was the time when I lost hope in the world.
I want to feel it all again. I bring the vial close to my heart and deliberately break it, crushing it into my skin, intending to absorb its content for myself. However, as the liquid evaporates, it creates a mist that spreads throughout my shop. The buyers in the shop unknowingly breathe in traces of empathy.
As I see all this, that’s when I realize that empathy can’t be contained, it multiples and becomes contagious once released. Humanity never truly lost it, they simply forgot how to access it. Sometimes the most selfless act is letting go of something precious so it can benefit everyone.
Young Writers Club 
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