The Necklace Nicole Yeakos She stands in front of the mirror ...

The Necklace Nicole Yeakos She stands in front of the mirror, holding the mangled string of gold to her neck, lets it fall upon the concave of her collar bone, broken links resting on her still fair skin. It glistens slightly, but not the way it had when her mother gave it to her, not the way it had when compared to the cold, delicate hand that once latched it around her neck from the confines of a hospital bed. It had looked so beautiful on her mother; it had given her so much life in her lowest times, bringing back the image of her silky blonde hair rushing down her shoulders, against the reality of her pale, bald skull. She shakes that image of her mother from her head, shutting her eyelids as if they were being forbidden the daylight. Behind closed eyes, though, she sees her careless actions just moments before, the impatient yanking at her uniform collar in a rush to get to the same dead end waitress position she's held at Waffle House for nearly a year. “Snap!” It echoes in her mind, tiny fragments of gold soaring before her in slow motion. After a moment or two, she returns her focus to the necklace, the last piece of her mother she possesses. It is cold. She drops it in the sink, grips the counter-top, and bites her lip hard enough to make it bleed. Gravity makes the necklace slither into an awkward shape lining the drain so cautiously, so carefully, and yet it is broken, like her heart, without her mother.