I stared at the old jade ring in the old man's cart. It seemed useless, but something drew me to it. The old man caught me looking at the ring.

"That is not for sale!" He yelled.

"Why?"

He ignored my question and turned to another customer. The old man had stopped by my neighborhood to 'sell antique items at a cheap price'.

"How much is that ring?"

He seemed to hear my question now. "Three dollars."

I left a five-dollar note in the old man's cart. "Keep the change." I said as I walked off to my home.

"Young girl - remove the ring before going to sleep." He called after me.

"Why should I?" I thought.

That night I went to sleep and looked at the ring. It was so bright it almost glowed. I decided to just leave it on.

The next day I went downstairs for my breakfast. Was it me, or was the jade getting darker? I shook the thought off and returned to reality. "P*censored* the butter." My younger sister, Krista, demanded.

"Say please," my mother reminded.

"Just say that you don't want to p*censored* it." Krista snapped.

I hurriedly shoved everything into my mouth and ran to my room. Why was my family so short-tempered today? 

I tried to get my homework done with no avail. I ended up ripping the worksheet in frustration.

I went to sleep that night, telling myself to try using soap to remove the ring the next day.

First thing in the morning I ran to the bathroom and made my finger as slippery as an eel. I tugged at the ring but it just fastened itself tighter to my finger. I ran out of my home and bumped into the old man.

"How do you get this ring off?" I demanded.

"You wore it to sleep, no?"

"Yes!" I was in tears now.

The old man extended his nine fingers.

I held the knife in my trembling hand and lay it down on my finger. The ring, attached to my severed finger, gleamed once, twice, and was still.