Prompt #17

I have never seen my mother angrier than the day that I lost an old family heirloom. I was about twelve years old walking around a large craft fair outside with my mother. Countless craft booths stood side by side forming six rows. At random times I would gently twirl the necklace that I wore. It was a gold necklace with a thin, delicate chain that held a red stone and a small intricate design that bordered the stone. The pendent, with its design, somewhat resembled a blooming flower. My mother had given it to me a week before and told me to take good care of it since it was a family heirloom. I loved the necklace and wore it everyday since it was given to me.
My mother scanned every booth looking for jewelry that caught her eye. I barely looked at anything since I was content with my new treasure that I hung from my neck. When we finally reached the last row, I reached to twirl my necklace again only to find that it was gone. I was shocked the necklace was gone. Surely I would have felt or heard the necklace fall. Frantically, I looked around me hoping the necklace would be somewhere near and it would be intact. It wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
      After quickly filling my mother in on the missing heirloom, we began retracing our steps. I tried to recall the last time I knew I had the necklace but I couldn’t remember. We went up and down every row searching the floor and booths. My mother asked random people if they had seen my necklace. I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. We were at a craft fair, there were necklaces everywhere. A necklace on the floor wouldn’t look out of place. If someone were to see it they would either take it or bring it to the closest booth. We must have looked for almost an hour but our family heirloom was never recovered. I felt absolutely horrible for what I had done and I got to sit and soak in my guilt since I was grounded for a week afterward.