Doubting her Doubt

Short Story

Bloodshot eyes, her pale face and dyed black hair reflect in the holy water which her nail-bitten pudgy fingers slowly sink into. For a moment, she questions all that remains of her sanity before blessing herself �" not once, not twice. Then she steps forward and enters the 19th century stone chapel for the first time in 23 years.

As Julie steps tentatively across the border she drags down the hood of her sodden Led Zeppelin jacket and instantly glances up, seeking hope, seeking a miracle...She hears the heavy echo of her footsteps reverberate as if shooting this sacred silence.

Walking down between the rows seats she smells a variety of odours, an aroma of decaying wood, burning candles and the slightest whiff of incense. Her eyes, not daring to look at any sacred statue or pious painting, search for a free seat in the empty church.

A sigh is released as she kneels down at a row of seats which lays between stations, stations of the cross. She can no longer attempt to hide, for there is nobody to hide from; and yet her brown eyes stare down.

Every minute, the scars are a little more inevitable; yet here she feels a sense…Of wonderful loneliness �" as if silence is now a friend, someone who she feels may  listen. And although all the muscles in her five foot four frame remain tense, she’s comfortable in the emptiness, where she is free, where her fuddled thoughts  escape the cage

of a loving family. A family which she feels as if their tender hearts entrap her in an arena of trepidation.

As if on cue her phone vibrates, impolitely interrupting the peace. The call is deemed unworthy, though not before the ringtone launches into: ‘‘I feel good now I knew that I …’’ She swipes the sound away. She see’s the action as the beauty of technology �" she contemplates how better life could be if one could swipe their fears and troubles away. Julie looks up, fabricates a smile and swipes across her forehead.

Once more Julie is in what she deems as beautiful silence. She tries to assemble her jungle of thoughts as if tactically aiming to find clarity in her mind �" but  knowing one will always be at the forefront. In this peace she believes she can recognise everyone’s gentle lies; stare for long and all that is true can be seen in those loving eyes she tells herself.

She remembers all emotions in the room she had departed. A waiting room filled with negativity, where hope laid in the corner battered, bruised and believed to beaten. It was as if a shovel lay waiting to carve his grave. John’s grandmother had handed her the rosemary beads and asked her to pray. Normally she would have laughed, and maybe say that she is too old for fairytales but she took the beads and smiled. Nevertheless, she did not pray and had left those beads in the hospital.

Yet an unplanned hour’s walk brought her to Saint Columba's Church where she was baptised �" Julia Kathleen Collins. Today’s entry, of her own free will, is  not to pray but to plead. ‘Am I yer fool, fodder for the darkness,’ escapes her lips, escapes her prison.

Silence: busy roads, busy lives, a whirlwind of the 21st century lay outside while all bar one so placid within these walls. Silence: only the sound of Julie’s beating heart, or she questioned, is it the rumbling of harrowing thoughts which torment a sinking soul. ‘Can a soul sink?’ she screamed; a scream that seemed to echo for longer than eternity.

Removing her damp jacket, her mind muses over doubt, death and darkening regrets. Again she stares down at the floor as if blinded by the tranquillity of a winter sunshine that has begun to timidly travel through parting clouds and the chapel's stained windows.

A simple wish Julie makes, for the sun’s light to bring warmth to the cold she feels, as her mind contemplates her fears of a forever isolation in a forgotten future.

All Julie can really concentrate is John. How they first met, their first kiss �" a drunken shift which is near its sixth anniversary. She curses her vanity for thinking is he, in a coma, thinking of her.

The last words she said to John  are  ‘‘F**k you,’’ their classic duo of words �" her truth so often silent, her lies so often loud. Julie remembers their anger, their happiness, their problems, their fun and their lust.

She thinks of the end; and how it is that, as one approaches the end nobody who loves you remembers your anger, your problems, your faults, all that they remember is the goodness and she thinks this may be life’s final gift.

Yesterday, what happened yesterday? Where had he been, yesterday?  She asks herself.  She knew that yesterday’s forgotten, unlike the torturous memoir that today was building. She believed in any future, today would be remembered forever. There is no splash when a tear slides tentatively down her cheek before falling upon the floor, before disappearing immediately. Forever. Forgotten for eternity.

Read my mind she says internally. … ‘‘ Or is it too late, too long a wait for me to bite your bait?’’ she roars out, her voice carrying vibes of delirium

All is silent.

All is heard.

Her eyes glance up again as her mind questions her mental stability. She looks around urgently before remembering her father's words: ‘‘Sleep, sleep, rest you need, it is rest you need.’’ And then as if speaking to herself she hears an echoing murmur of words from….no….. from nowhere, or everywhere!

..Lonely I am ‘til yer sun dies down

and then a miracle is called,

Always a miracle that is called.

She buries her head in her hands and asks her mind for a second of peace, for him, for her, for their sanity.

She needs …he needs aid.

She hears slow footsteps.

So slow,

She fears it’s a friend.

Her pulse races,

a thunder in her thoughts,

The sound of steps  all round,

everywhere or nowhere…

So

slow

these

footsteps.

‘HOPE?’

She curses herself, her mind crowded with doubt

- until she looks up, to where I do be.

Author's Note

Please a true review and let me know any mistakes or possible tell me what you think the story is missing?

And thanks for reading.

Reviews

[Courtney Hough]

Very interesting! It seems to me like she has anxiety and depression and that the man may have been her partner? He could've wronged her in a way, or, perhaps she is having a mental break down thinking he did. I see her at the end of her rope...going to the church to seek forgiveness or a sign that she should still live. It seems as though she is on the fence of staying here on earth or returning home. Nice write

[Christopher Patrick]

Thanks for for the review. In short, you'd be correct in saying the man was her partner – Would you think I should make this clearer or bring her ex's circumstances into the story? As for Ex wronging her, I am aiming for the reader to question whether she's wronged him {Or that the relationship have wrecked both their lives]. So I'll have to have a look at that. Interesting how you see the ending – going for an uncertain conclusion...the reader could have a better ending than me :)
Thanks so much for reviewing – opinions are invaluable.