The Judgement

A very short, story.

               

                Standing before the haunting, rectangular tombstone, the man read the words engraved on the slab:

 

JENNI ROSE TRENTON
2002-2011

BELOVED AND GIFTED DAUGHTER.

 

                His bouquet of assorted roses did little to accompany the already wondrous array of flowers and candles which amassed the cherished grave. The box he still held in his hands though would surely stand out from the other gifts. Without a tear in his eye he placed the small wood crafted box as far away from the rest of the offerings as possible, its bland and lifeless colors offsetting the palette which adorned the tombstone. He clenched his fists and pulled his hoodie over his head, ignoring his vibrating cellphone for the fifth time today.

 

* * *

 

                It was Monday, and Nicholas had been contemplating his visit to see his daughter. He couldn’t stare at the bouquet fresh dozen of roses lying next to him in the passenger seat as he drove, forcing his eyesight away whenever possible. Arriving at the cemetery, he parked his car along the side of the path nearest to her grave, the knot in his stomach tightening and his limbs occasionally trembling. Before he even got a closer look at the grave site he noticed a strange wooden box which he knew neither him nor Mary had placed there. He set the roses down as he knell down to pick up the box, an ominous curiosity taking hold. Upon opening it, he almost lost his balance when he discovered the black, almost pristine pistol within. Under the gun lay a white paper which had been ripped from a notebook. Carefully retrieving the pistol, he discreetly checked its magazine clip and confirmed it was loaded. Setting the pistol down and away from sight, he retrieved the white paper and unfolded it. Written in pencil with an eerily, almost unintelligible handwriting, the note read:

 

Jacob L. Lewis
1956 Embers Ave

Farmington, MN

55084

 

You have the necessary resources.

 

 

                Underneath the address, Nicholas noticed was a small, badly scribbled message that seemed to have taken the writer various attempts to write down due by the heavy residue of dirty pink eraser marks which the words were written over:

 

It was me.

 

Author's Note

Thank you very much for reading.