Amber Necklace

The blue-amber necklace was amongst the soot and scorched memories strewn along the once-upon-a-time homestead’s front lawn. It caught Lillian’s eye. It was the reflection of the clasp. She picked it up and dusted it off. The noisome odor nauseated her, so she held it at arm’s length. She gave herself several deep breaths and a silent prayer and brought it closer to inspect it. The clasp was silver, possibly sterling, and it was beautiful and dazzled in the sun. She tried to unclasp the necklace, but her finger brushed against the wet, slimy amber pendant, and she let go of her treasure. She turned her hand over and studied the pad of her index finger. It was shimmering, fuming, and was giving off an acerb stench. Her pain seemed to seep out of every pore. She looked at the necklace after it dropped from her marred hand and it wormed away on its own, leaving a narrow trail on the ash.

Lillian took a step back, and the pain in her finger faded. She took several more steps back and her finger immediately mended before her eyes. Her gaze remained steadfast. She suddenly realized that the necklace — it was one that she was familiar with. It belonged to her mother’s sister, Eva. But they buried Eva with it… Lillian’s gaze cracked. She blinked. She stepped closer to retrieve the necklace again, but abandoned that idea before she could reach it. Her finger where she touched the necklace started shimmering and fuming again; she gave ground. Lillian took a moment to look at her surroundings. It was the lawn she had visited almost every summer for the past 10 years. She watched as the amber jewelry slowly made its way back to the place where her great aunt’s house once stood. She sat on one of the last patches of green grass. She watched for the next hour until it had crawled back into the spared insignia laden jewelry box. Her mother always said Eva was a witch. Now she knew she was.