H:

Write a story in which a necklace is important

He casually bounced it in his palm and intertwined it with his fingers. He was confused with what to
do with the necklace. Every other hour he would indecisively take it out from his pocket and run his
thumb along the unassuming chain. It bewildered him greatly- he just could not fathom why people
always spoke about the necklace with such gravitas around him. They constantly reminded him that
he cannot and will not, lose this necklace. It was cherished by her; it was priceless, they said. Out of
sheer convenience and nothing more, he made it a point to remember every bump; every link in the
simple silver chain. There was nothing spectacular about it. He lifted the jewellery out of his pocket.
Dangling it toward the rays of the melting sunset sky, he observed it as thunder clouds loomed above.

Barely gleaming in the muted auburn hues of the setting sun, the rusty chain dips in the centre
supporting the weight of an unadorned grey locket. He did not deign to open that locket. Neither did
he want to. As much as the necklace was precious, he could not care much for it. The necklace was
not his. Glossing over the locket, he speculated what was inside the minute austere piece. He scoffed.
The necklace was only but a weight in his pocket that creased his pantsuit. He disliked that the ugly
necklace was tethered to such significance. It burdened him. He wished it never left its owner. He
decided he did not want this necklace, it was worthless to him. He would take it back to its owner.

He stepped out of his car, clad head to toe in black, polished branded dress shoes catching the sunlight
and the attention of the crowd. Heads swivelled around to stare at him as he unceremoniously
slammed the car door shut. It started to drizzle and rain pooled around shallow divots near him on
the lawn. Youre late, his mother hissed under her breath as she opened an umbrella to shelter him
from the rain. He rudely waved her away and snatched the umbrella. His eyes narrowed at how the
lawn muddied his newly-polished shoes. He gripped the necklace in his pocket and recalled why he
was here, the dead can afford to wait anyway, he remarked, flinging the necklace into the
depression in the cemeterial ground. Several gasps were heard from the grievers amidst hushed
whispers.

At least pay your respects to your grandmother before you leave, his mother whispered defeatedly,
head hung low as she left the cemetery with the last of the mourners. He stared at the embellished
mahogany coffin coldly and walked up grudgingly to the edge of the depression. He glanced at the
grave. Eyes widened and his jaws slacked- a wave of melancholy hit him and the umbrella fell from his
hands. A picture of him as a toddler stared back at him in the cracked locket, a result from the forceful
throw. Cherished by her, he reminisced and retreated away, face wet with raindrops and tears.