Celtic

     I don't know why I'd been chosen to clean out this house. Maybe because of all the kids, I was the closest to Grandpa, and I was probably the only person he would've let go through his things- it still hurt nonetheless. The funeral service had been this morning, and I didn't want to put it off, so I came right over to clean up his place and see what was "worth keeping" is what my mom had said. In my opinion, all of his things should be kept and treasured; maybe that's why they shouldn't have sent me. I decided to start with the attic despite the chance that I might catch Ebola or the plague from all the disgusting things up there.
     I started by going through my old dollies, putting the good ones to the side, and the completely destroyed ones in a box to throw away. I could donate the good ones, or even keep them for when me or one of my siblings has kids. I found two dolls tangled together by something silver. When I finally got it from around the doll's neck, I realized it was a necklace with a Celtic Knot. I didn't know much about my heritage, but I'd recognize this symbol anywhere. The knot started to hear up in my hand until I dropped it. What was this necklace doing up here? Maybe I just needed a distraction, but I decided to take it to my Grandmother's house to see what it was. I pulled into the driveway suddenly getting nervous. I picked up the necklace by the chain walking to the front porch and knocking. My Grandma opened the door with swollen, red eyes. Everyone had assumed her absence at the funeral was because of her longstanding feud with Grandpa Leroy, but now I felt bad for not coming to check on her earlier-they had been married for 32 years before the divorce. I opened my arms to hug her and that's when she caught sight of the necklace.
     She started speaking in tongues and crossing herself (despite the fact that she isn't catholic). She finally started to yell words I could understand telling me to get the necklace off er porch immediately. I took it and put t in the car in an act to get her to alm down. When I stepped back on the porch she seemed to be hyperventilating.
     "It's ok Grandma it's gone, I was just coming to see what you knew about it- I guess that's a lot," I mumbled looking at her quizzically.
   "That evil thing is what caused me and old Leroy to divorce in the first place," she said angrily.
     "What do you mean? Did you not like it? Did he buy it for another woman first? Come on you gotta stop being so cryptic and just be straight with me," I said exasperatedly.
    She sighed and nodded her head, "Fine, but only if you promise to destroy it,"
     "You're acting very weird, how the heck do I destroy a necklace anyways? I'm not Harry Potter Grandma,"
     "Promise you won't use it then," she said rolling her eyes.
     "Ok fine, now tell me,"
     "That necklace has been passed down through your Grandfather's family for eons. It was made by one of his ancestors in Ireland thousands of years ago. His name was Proctor and he made it for his beloved wife who's beauty bewitched him every time he saw her. She turned out to be insane and her mental illness was mistaken for witch craft, so she was hanged. Proctor thought he was going to lose it himself, he got the necklace off of her corpse and went on a killing spree through town. Before he was killed he gave the necklace to his only daughter Beatrice. The night he was to be hanged she saw the spirits of her two parents before they disappeared into the necklace. Any member of your family who was murdered in cold blood is trapped in the necklace and whoever has it has a great decision to make. They can chose to use the all knowing spirits to gain prestige and power in the real world- your Grandfather became too obsessed and I couldn't take it anymore," she said looking down at her interlocked fingers in her lap.
     "Sweetheart if you do decide to use it, don't let it consume you," my Grandmother begged clasping one of my hands in her two frail ones,
     "I- I have to go," I said running to my car and driving to my Grandfather's house not glancing once at the necklace in the passenger seat.
     When I got to the house I took the necklace, sitting in the living room and staring at it.
     It started to heat in my hand and suddenly the room was filled with spirits whose lives had been cut short, and in the front- my Grandfather.