Enchanted

The Locket

I was ready to collapse when I made it to my bedroom. The argument I had just had with my mom, the last few hours, all felt like a very long, unpleasant dream. I changed out of my wet clothes, my movements were robotic, putting on the first things I found in my bag, dumping the wet ones in the corner of my room.
Sleep was calling to me and I was about to curl up on my bed, but something made me pause. Something wasn't right. I glanced back instinctively to where I had dumped my clothes. I blinked dumbly at them, and it took a few moments for it to finally register.
The bag. I didn't go out with a bag. Did I?
The bag was wet and sodden, like the rest of my clothes. I had barely even noticed I was clinging onto it on the way home. I had no idea how it had gotten so wet.

I moved slowly over and picked it up hesitantly. The leather strap felt damp, and almost slimy in my fingers. I grimaced and wiped my fingers on the back of my bed, then carefully pried the top of the bag open. I felt around inside the interior of the bag cautiously, my hand closing around the first thing I touched; something cold and hard.
I pulled out a locket. It was small and shaped like a jewel, hanging from a long, metal chain that glimmered faintly in the yellowish light of my room. The locket itself looked like it was made from slightly faded looking silver, engraved with detailed patterns that were so small they were hard to see. A small, black gemstone sat in the centre of the locket, sufficiently translucent so that I thought if I looked hard enough, I could see down beyond its surface.
The locket was oddly fascinating to me, and for reasons I could completely place or explain. I couldn't quite bring myself to put it down. I ran a finger across the surface of the locket, feeling the edges and grooves which formed the stylistic patterns that ran across its surface. The locket was beautiful; it wasn't the kind of thing I would have ever bought, yet it was the kind of thing I would have admired inside a jewellery store, and possibly fantasised about having enough money to pay for. I thought it would look quite good on me. 
It was as I was examining the locket that I accidently pulled on a tiny, metal clasp at its side, and the locket sprung neatly open. The inside was as detailed and decorated as the outside, and sitting within a curling set of serpentine patterns was the image of a girl with dark hair that fell in curly locks down her shoulders, and striking, green eyes lined by thick lashes.
I felt an uncomfortable shiver run down my spine as I examined the picture. The girl looked familiar. Like I had seen her before. Actually, she looked quite a bit like me.
As I examined the inside of the locket more closely, I saw words engraved within, opposite the picture. Izabelle Ariana Elanor.
I read it over again a couple of times. I had never heard of her, but then, I didn't really know much about my mother's side of the family. I barely even knew anything about her three siblings; my aunts and uncles from her side of the family.
Whoever this was, I was related to them.
I put the locket on my desk, along with the bag and the rest of its contents. I would make sense of it some other time. Right then, all I could think about was collapsing onto my bed and going to sleep.