A necklace.

I open the window to let the transaction between me and my mother go through smoothly. I can see that the driver is getting very irritated that more of his car is getting wet from the falling rain. I ignore his plea and look again to my mother, her eyes drenched in already flowing tear mixing with the rain. She holds out her hand, and as she hold it out, a tiny glimmer escapes.

"Your father said, regardless he came back or not, wanted me to purposely give you this for your 18th birthday," she says in between her sobs and sniffles. The necklace hangs from a thin, almost invisible golded chain. The pendant is awfully small but I can see the detailed craftsmenship. The pendant looks like a small golden angel with crystal wings. It's probably one of the most beautiful things I have ever gotten for my birthday.

"Thanks, Mom," I say to her finishing with me sticking my own head into the soaking rain and giving a lasting kiss on my mother's cheek. Call it wet if you want to, but it still has the effect of a neverending love for my mother, regardless she thinks my father is dead or not. Once I retract my head back into the car, my head can be clearly seen as out-of-the-shower-head. I wipe the excess water with my sleeve and wave a last goodbye to my mother and sister, who is now shouting inaudible teases through the downpour.

I roll up the window as the taxi turns a corner. Seeing that it's morning, I can easily connect why my mother and sister told me I was late. The morning traffic on the busy streets of Neo-Amsterdam are usually blocking the streets. That is why most people either take a walk or take the bus to work. I almost sink into a sense of thinking that I will never get to the Tram Station on time.