The Girl was silent as she stared at The Box. It had been at her doorstep when she had awoken. Its sky-blue cardboard was battered in the way a box of old postcards found dusty in an attic might be. It had that antique, mysterious air to it, and The Girl had brought it inside The House even though it could’ve held something dangerous.
            The Girl did not know whether or not she should open it. Indeed, her curiosity was strong, but her sense of self-preservation was stronger. The Mother had instilled a fear of the unknown in her from an early age.
            Forcibly forgetting about The Box for the moment, The Girl decided to go out with The Dog. The Garden needed picking; the plants were heavy with ripe fruit. The Girl put on her yellow raincoat and her red rainboots and went outside with The Dog. The Dog ran about happily as The Girl filled her basket with vegetables. Tomatoes, zucchini, carrots, radishes, potatoes, and corn. She finished before lunch and went to work on The Orchard, which held mostly apples, though a few pumpkin plants sprawled underfoot.
            The Girl paused her work on The Orchard to eat lunch. After lunch she went to The Town to sell the vegetables and fruits she had picked that morning. The Horse pulled The Wagon around the edge of The Forest a few miles and then into The Town. The Wagon was old, different from the automobiles The Townspeople rode in. But The Girl liked its simplicity, and besides, it smelled cleaner. The Townspeople were kind to The Girl, but they didn’t love her; she was not a part of them. She was not one of them. And she was… different.
            As The Girl went about her daily duties, The Box tugged at the back of her mind. The sun began to dip low in the horizon, and The Girl took The Horse and The Wagon home and ate her dinner after feeding The Dog and The Cat.
The Girl placed some logs in the woodstove and lit a fire before settling down to work on her knitting. But she kept losing track of her stitches; her eyes kept flitting to The Box on the table. Finally she sighed, setting aside her knitting and going to retrieve The Box. She held it on her lap for a long time, sitting in silence. The Box, cubical in shape and about as big as eight apples, seemed innocent. The Girl did not easily forget The Mother’s lessons, but even so, she found herself opening The Box.
            Inside of The Box was The Egg amidst a nest of hay. It was not like the robin eggs that The Girl often found in The Orchard. It was the size of a clenched fist and it was a shiny green color. The Girl, after a moment’s hesitation, gently lifted The Egg out of The Box and placed it on the half-finished blanket in her lap. She stared at it for a while before setting The Box aside and continuing her knitting with newfound ease.

            A few days later, The Egg hatched. It happened while The Girl was in The Orchard picking some of the last apples of the season. The Girl had taken to carrying The Egg in a little sling with her wherever she went. She had an inexplicable connection to The Egg. It was like that of what she had with The Dog, but,… more.
            The Egg began shivering while The Girl was high in an apple tree. She climbed down and took The Egg out of its sling. The shivering increased as she set it on the ground and stepped back. She was slightly worried, The Mother’s lessons of caution resonating in her head, but The Girl had formed a connection with The Egg and she was much less wary of it now than she had been.
            A spiderweb of cracks appeared on The Egg’s shiny green surface, slowly spreading as an ominous wind blew in from the north, making the girl shiver. It took a while, but eventually the thing inside The Egg poked a hole large enough for The Girl to get a glimpse of green through The Egg. The green of the creature was like that of The Egg, though not exactly the same.
The Dragon took a while to break out of its shell, since it was so young and weak, but it did, and The Girl watched with awe and adoration as the slimy thing tumbled out of The Egg rather unceremoniously. The Dragon croaked, breathing hard and squirming about in the grass. The Girl cautiously reached out and scooped the tiny dragon up into her palm. It croaked again, blinking dark, watery eyes up at her as it did so.
            “Why, hello, little dragon,” The Girl smiled.
            It did not take The Dragon long to dry off its egg fluid. It had forest green scales that shimmered when the light hit them the right way and the undersides of its leathery wings were a sort of rainbow. It quickly gained strength until it was flying around The Girl almost non-stop. It was like The Dog, yet more intelligent and sentient. It seemed to understand The Girl, though it could only talk back in growls and snorts.
           

            In about a year, The Dragon had grown until it was about the size of The Horse, and The Girl began to ride The Dragon. The Girl realized that though The Mother had taught her caution, there was some good that could come out of trusting in the mystery of the unknown. And indeed, The Girl could not imagine a world in which she had gotten rid of The Box and thrown The Egg away. Well, she could, but she did not want to, and so she did not. For The Girl loved The Dragon and together they lived until they both went to be with the stars.

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Kayligrace Moody is a sophomore at an early college in Wilmington, North Carolina. She is an emerging author and this is her first published work.