The box sat restlessly in the corner of the room. Keira watched it intensely, eyes wide and staring with fear. It was not the box itself that filled her with such dread, it was the thought of having to fill it with her things.

Mom said she needed to find items that made her ‘feel’ - old toys, gifts from her childhood friends, diaries, clothes that don’t fit anymore. Mom had already filled two of those same boxes with junk, like cooking books, broken utensils and an old torn up beach blanket they used as kids. She claimed it all reminded her of when Keira and her sister were kids, and it made her feel sad to reminisce about the life they all used to have.

Keira’s sister filled her box with her favourite stuffed animals, clothes she wore as a kid, ballet shoes and trophies she won as a teenager.

So far Keira’s box is empty, and as far as she has thought about it, it will stay that way. The festival has been going for years now, but she resents this new ritual the city has added - it’s caused a lot of fights recently.

Keira knows she’d not ready to grow up, not yet. The lockdown ensured that – so many kids like her lived as children, shut away from society with no real concept of getting older. Since rejoining the rest of the world, she struggled to adapt and change her behaviour, just like the others. That’s why this ‘ritual’ was added – to force them to mature into adults, so they can face the world again. To ‘purge away the inner child holding you back’, as mom likes to say.

Keira’s sister Meghan stomped into her room, without knocking, and looked in the empty box.

“Where’s all your stuff? We’re leaving in an hour!”

Keira made no effort to move or turn her head to see the time; it had been climbing all day, and the further it got to reaching the peak the harder it was for her to breathe. All the oxygen in the room seemed to vanish in that moment, and Keira let out a stifled gasp before falling back onto her pillows. Meghan called for mom.

“Honestly Keira, this is enough! We need to do this, whether you like it or not - now, start packing some of your things away before I choose them for you. Remember, you won’t be able to get them back afterwards, so think about it.” She placed a gentle cold hand against Keira’s face. “Please.”

An old ripped up children's book with stains on every page, a teddy bear with one arm and no eyes, and an old macaroni art project later and Keira carried her very light box to the front door, put on her shoes and waited at the bottom of the stairs for the rest of her family.

They walked in slowly, faces bright and glowing with excitement.

However, the moment her mom took a peek inside the box, she snatched it out of Keira’s grip. She took it upstairs, slamming the door of Keira’s bedroom with annoyance. Keira had barely a moment to register what had happened, then ran up after her, pounding on the locked door with the palm of her hand.

“Mom! I need everything else! Please don’t!” She let out a high-pitched whine, like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Her mum emerged a moment later, box balancing precariously on one arm. She struggled to hold it up, it was tipping to one side from how full it was. Two fluffy ears of her old stuffed bunny, Bunny, flopped sadly over the edge, and Keira let out a whimper.

Her mom sighed.

“Oh please, Keira, you haven’t so much as mentioned this thing in years! It’s going, whether you like it or not.” She stormed past and down the staircase, stomping her feet on the soft carpet as she went. It didn’t work, really - they put the carpet down years ago to stop us from doing such thing.

Keira stomped her foot in protest, something she has done a lot recently when things don’t go her way.

“Don’t be such a child. Come on, we’re leaving.”

***

The bonfire was humongous - almost as tall as the school gymnasium, piled high with tree logs, old furniture and everyone else’s precious items.

The flames reached twice as high, licking the delicately darkening sky. The day was still ongoing; the hours felt like years after everything that had gone into making today magical. It was slowly being painted with the colours of evening, a perfect replication of the intense firelight.

The family stood for almost an hour before they could step closer to the flames. Mom and Dad threw their boxes in easily and turned their backs before the fire had made much damage. They ushered Keira in front of them before she could escape and turned her to face the bonfire. Her eyes watered from the fear (and the light – it was so bright!)

Keira let the tears fall freely as she tossed her box onto the flames. The heat was intense; she could feel her face pouring with sweat, a river of rapids racing across her skin.

The fire held firm to the box, wrapping it tight in its arms and quickly pressing the life out of it.

It started to blacken immediately, burning the shell away and leaving the contents open to the elements. Bunny’s ears were the first to go, turning to ash and floating away in the breeze.

A moment later, Keira couldn’t recall what she’d been staring at, and felt a brief breeze of ease blow over her, wisping up a hair or two in its path.

Next was a collection of science projects - posters and paper mache models of the solar system from middle school. They were all gone in seconds, engulfed without a trace left behind. Again, the memory was wiped from her thrashing mind, and another calming wind took her senses for a moment.

Each item in the box took its own time to disappear, and when it was gone Keira felt her worried fall.

As finally, the picture book she’d been making since she was a child began to burn at the corners, she took a deep breath of ash and fire. Her eyes dried from the heat in front of her, and Keira realised she couldn’t even cry while images of old friends, lost family and pets who had long passed flashed and flickered until there was nothing of them left.

Keira felt the wind around her, a gale force whipping up and tossing her in all directions. Her golden hair flew out and wrapped itself around and around her head until her vision was completely obscured.

Everything stopped harshly, hair dropping in a matted mess around her shoulders. Eyes blank and cold, all traces of fun and childish wonder ripped away.

Keira turned her back on the bonfire, having forgotten everything she just lost, and walked to greet her family. Father met her first, and reached out his hand to shake hers.

“How are you feeling, Keira?” he asked, sombre eyes watching his daughter with such intensity it made her heart ache.

Keira nodded gently, head held high as she shook her father’s hand. Mother joined them a moment later and pulled Keira in for a loose embrace. She stepped back and admired her daughter, holding her shoulders and watching. Keira gave her a small smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. Mother returned the gesture.

“Finally, my little girl is all grown up.”