MY WORKS

READ ON FOR 'THE BOX OF THIRTEEN'

The Box of Thirteen

By Anabia S. Evergreen

Kinza’s eleventh birthday had been quiet—until the box arrived. The box had arrived mysteriously, with no sender or explanation, but a magical hum suggested it knew her personally.

It was small and wooden, painted black, with intricate carvings on its sides. A silver ribbon lay across the lid, faintly glowing in the dark. Taped to it was a note with three chilling words:

Never open. Ever.

Kinza stared at it. Curiosity didn’t ask permission; it simply took over. The moment her fingers brushed the lid, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Before she could think better of it, she lifted the top.

A blast of icy wind rushed out, carrying whispers that curled around her ears.

Anger… Jealousy… Betrayal… Fear… Guilt…

Six small creatures leapt from the box. They had sharp ears, crooked teeth, and ragged clothes. Their skin glowed in distinct colors, and all of them were smirking.

“Goblins,” Kinza whispered.

The smallest one stepped forward, sparks snapping from his feet.
“I am Anger,” he hissed.

A blue goblin followed, sobbing loudly. “S-Sadness…”

Another introduced himself as Betrayal, then Jealousy, Fear, and a crackling little goblin named Guilt.

“You released us,” Anger said. “Now we’ll never go back.”

“Goodbye,” Guilt announced cheerfully. And with a sharp pop, they vanished.

The box glowed again. Five taller, elegant creatures stepped out—elves with sharp eyes and flowing robes.

“Regret,” said one softly.
“Cruel Pride,” boasted another.
“Hopelessness. Laziness. Envy.”

“Go away!” Kinza cried.

“But alas,” Regret replied happily, “we’re stuck with you forever.”

They disappeared in laughter.

One last creature appeared—a short, heavy dwarf. The room dimmed.

“Despair,” he growled. “I’ll leave… for now.”

When he vanished, Kinza collapsed onto her bed. “What have I done?”

Then she noticed a second box.

It was golden, glowing warmly, with carvings just like the black one. Its note read:

OPEN IT

The moment she lifted the lid; warmth flooded the room. Golden light spilled out, soft and comforting. A phoenix rose from the box, feathers like molten gold.

“I am Hope,” it said gently. “Cling to me.”

More creatures followed—small, glowing, kind.

A tiny hippogriff bowed. “Calm. Breathe.”
A laughing niffler bounced out. “Laughter!”
A silver owl perched quietly. “Truth.”
A sunflower-like creature fluttered. “Gratitude.”
Then came Bravery, Forgiveness, Determination, Humility, Motivation, Blessings, Resilience, and Confidence.

Hope stepped forward. “The negative emotions you released—only you can seal them.”

“But how?” Kinza asked.

“You know the answer,” Humility whispered.

The light faded. The boxes stayed.

Days later, Kinza began to understand.

When her friend Sophie bragged loudly about a new watch, Cruel Pride perched on Kinza's shoulder, whispering cruel thoughts. Kinza felt the urge to mock, but instead, she spoke calmly.

“Showing off hurts people,” she said.

Pride cracked, crumbling into dust. Hope glowed brighter.

When Anger rose after her sister ruined homework, Kinza breathed deeply and spoke kindly. Anger screamed and vanished.

When Jealousy whispered, she chose Gratitude.
When Sadness crept in, she chose Laughter.
When Regret haunted her over a bad test, she didn’t wish—she studied harder.

One by one, the dark creatures weakened. They were not destroyed by shouting or shame—but by choices.

Slowly, they returned to the black box, defeated.

Kinza closed it carefully. Warmth lingered in her palm.

She smiled.

Curiosity came with responsibility. Emotions were meant to be faced, not feared. Hope always found a way through darkness—and strength lived within her.  

Sometimes, she would wonder if the creatures would return, and she would smile at the thought of the future adventures waiting for her.

No matter what storms came, she was ready.

When I first found out my story got published, I was shocked. I hadn't actually expected that. But I felt so happy. It meant, "You can write. An Editor read your story. They liked it. They liked it enough to publish it."

You know, when someone else sees your work and actually likes it, it feels so encouraging and motivating.

I've sent another story called 'Will & Way'...got my fingers crossed!