My father sat on the sofa with his elbows resting on his spread knees, and he couldn’t keep his gaze locked on mine. His eyes wandered aimlessly around the room as he forced his throat to expel the truth. I already knew what was wrong, but hearing him confess straight to my face stopped my growing denial. The reality of it all sunk in like a hot brand on my chest, searing my skin. I stared at him as my eyes slowly glazed over. My nails picked so desperately at my fingers, hoping to dull the intense misery that now consumed my head. 
The excitement I once had for a steady future started slowly draining from beneath me; all I could do was watch helplessly. Reality hit me like a freight train after August. My house was beginning to resemble the house of a hoarder due to a water leak that took months to fix and my father’s inability to close his wallet when he was greeted with a good deal. My dignity gradually dwindled every time someone stepped foot inside the house as our dirty secret was disclosed. The situation was becoming too relatable, like a sick and twisted metaphor for the inside of my mind. Cluttered with reality, shoving it away, desperately, trying to make each box fit while I covered it up from the outside with sophisticated red bricking and dainty flower hedges. 
Pretty pastel dresses and a caked face adorned with a cheery smile were enough to maintain my bubbly facade. However, there was only so much I could do to ease the aching of my soul. My unconventional methods worked, but I could gradually feel myself falling apart as the cardboard boxes that held my sorrows became soiled with the tears I shed in secret. 
A long, dreadful day ended with my front door slammed shut, leaving my facade standing on the other side. Heavy feet dragged along the floor when one abruptly slammed into another piece of reality resting by the doorway. The sight of it alone made my heart constrict as rage swelled behind my eyes, spilling over in hot tears that rolled down my cheeks. Begrudgingly, I picked up the box, struggling to force my knees to straighten. The bottom of the dingy box finally gave out, scattering its contents across the floor before me. The irony was so great I almost found the humor in it. Rage exploded into utter desperation as my breath hitched. I stood there for an eternity holding that useless box, staring blankly in front of me. At the same time, the hopelessness grew heavier, weighing my heart down like an anchor. I allowed it to take me down, and my knees made contact with the cold laminate floor. I numbly picked up every piece of my fragmented reality, forced to acknowledge everything I had been trying to deny. So many factors were woven together, and with their frayed ends, it was impossible to see how anything would transpire. Every plan I made collapsed as quickly as that pathetic cardboard box. A renewed vigor filled my veins, eradicating the sorrow as I carelessly shoved everything inside a new box. 
I picked up that new pristine cardboard box containing the same old problems. I rushed towards my bedroom and flung open the door, chucking the box to the ground with absolute disdain. It crashed to the floor with a loud thud as all the contents inside rattled together. I wished so hard that the box would engulf in flames that I started to see it. I watched as the tan cardboard turned bright red and crumpled in on itself, desperate to escape from the fire that clung to its skin as it charred. I lowered myself to the floor and sat in front of the blistering heat. I felt the warmth of the flames gently kissing my face as I watched my anguish be carried away with every ember that rose to the ceiling. An eerie, soothing calm washed over my body as a shaky breath left my lungs.
I stared at the pile of ash, finding solace in how everything had been reduced to nothing. The tarnished silver lining was finally revealed to me, and I eventually stood up. Everything that had ever plagued my mind had disintegrated before me, leaving an empty feeling as all my troubles had disappeared in seconds. The only thing left were pre-written pages to look back on to be read repeatedly, always ending eventually. Within a blink, the fire was gone, and my daydream ended, and I was back to staring at that cursed box, but I couldn’t help but love that this chapter would someday eventually end.