The small oak table sat adorned with knick-knacks from Nova’s childhood, including a treasure map, with its fake lands filled with mystical creatures brightly colored and shining as if it had its own luminescence. Sitting atop of the map, a flag precariously watched over the land, its pole lustrous and magnificent, whilst the cloth was made from a fine cotton. A box of crayons, used previously to compose this land of wonders, lay open and spilled, covering the rest of the desk.

With a gleam in her eyes Nova fondly glimpsed back into a time when troubles were minute and the world around her could be created, and not experienced. Rocking back and forth nonchalantly Nova clutched her hands to her heart; all of her memories spilled forward in the form of a river, dazedly traversing Nova’s face. Reaching forward Nova attempted to caress the ever-watchful flag, but to her surprise the flag began to wilt and fade at her touch.

Her astounded disposition quickly transitioned to fear. Scrambling Nova reached for her crayons, tears filled her eyes, putting her crayon to the flag her eyes flashed opened in dismay; her red crayon was now white, and the more she scrubbed at her flag the more it paled. The white plague funneled down the pole of the flag, bleeding into the map. All of her creations, all of her memories began to vanish in front of her eyes. Exasperated, Nova screamed and swept her arms across the desk. The map fluttered to the floor, the flag fell with the sound of a pin-drop, and the crayons scattered.

Finally, Nova closed her eyes and accepted it … Adulthood.