Fiction logo

Cobblestone Journal

by Rowan Finley 6 months ago in Mystery · updated 6 months ago
Report Story

Temptation to read another's inner musings...

Photo taken by Adrien Olichon

Jigna was walking slowly down the cobblestone street downtown near where she had grown up. The sky was quite gloomily overcast. The neighborhood was eerily quiet. Jigna had nothing in particular on her mind. She just needed some fresh air, as she was tired of being cooped up in the house for too long. She glanced up and saw a leather journey on the curb. No one was in sight, so she picked it up and flipped to the front but didn't see any names. She flipped to the back and still saw no one's name. She closed the journal, walked over to a nearby park bench, sat down, opened the journal to the middle and began to read...

"My thoughts grew darker by the day in a way that I never expected possible for me. I was entrenched in homicidal ideation. Never in a million years did I expect that I would think of taking someone's life in such a gruesome fashion. At the front of his house, I was going to do it...kill him. Then, I was going to call the cops on myself so that they could quickly arrest me. A life sentence would be fine with me. Revenge would be so worth it! I'd be safe in prison...in a way. Whatever could happen to me in prison would be far better than being "free" out in the world, right? Physical prison surely would be better than the agonizing mental prison I was living. I'd forgiven people for many different things, but this was too much to forgive this time. He was going to pay for all that he stole from me...for what he did to my family! The blasted son of a bi#@*. The pain, the havoc he had wreaked for over two years was all too traumatic! Going to work became harder and harder. Caring for my family's needs grew more challenging by the day. Focusing on any given task felt next to impossible. The heaviness in my mind weighed me down like an anchor with no purpose. There seemed to be thousands of triggers, even while driving down the interstate. Once, while at work, I got a phone call, and my stomach did one hundred cartwheels in a millisecond because I knew exactly who was on the phone. It was his twin daughters needing help with getting registered for classes. These girls were oblivious and had no idea about anything that had previously happened...about everything their father had done. Trying to keep it professional, I helped them as well as I could. After hanging up the phone, I felt overwhelmed with conviction. My heart and mind said at once, 'You cannot take their father away from these beautiful girls...' Overwhelmed, but relieved that the phone call was over, I felt once again deep in my spirit that I needed to forgive. I desperately needed to let go of these dark thoughts that had been plaguing me. Several weeks later, mental and emotional freedom came to me during a worship service that I had attended. I remember it so well, kneeling at the altar, singing my heart out. It was miraculous; I felt joy again. I sincerely felt freedom like I've never experienced before. I was full to the brim with gratitude about how I'd been forgiven for many things. Now, I had to forgive, as impossible as it had felt before."

Jigna stopped reading, swallowed quickly, and closed the journal. She felt strangely intrigued and speechless. This radical testimony of forgiveness sizzled in her mind. Like a jigsaw puzzle, she was trying to piece this strange journal entry together, but knew she needed more context. Looking around to see if she was still alone, she stashed the mysterious journal in her cardigan. Her heart was beating quickly, to the rhythm of her steps, as she speedily made her journey back home.

Mystery

About the author

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. Aspiring licensed mental health counselor.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.