Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Confessions.
Single mother of 3
Single mother who never wants to mingle. I was abused so bad where death looked me in the face daily. I was beat every single day for 3 months straight. I still didn’t allow that horrific situation of my daily beatings and the kidnapping of me and my children build up hate. I was in so much pain. From getting my head bashed on toilet bowels, on microwaves, on car door panels and raped. Choked unconscious, phone thrown so hard at my stomach to cause a miscarriage, I constantly wondered my fate. My nose bit to the point my nose swollen so bad (3 times my normal size) that it look like I was in some kind of a fight with a animal, but this animal was not animal but a actual human. Bit into my right vein down deep in my arm, because I told him we need to separate, and that I was tired of being beat on and threatened to be kill everyday if I told anyone. Where my arm turned blue and purple and then red. I literally didn’t even know that was possible to see all those colors turning in my arm one by one by one as I was fighting for my life. Screaming for anyone to save us even while get cursed out and beat and laughed at and told me “no one will save you”, said by my abuser and kidnapper, while burning me with his cigarettes. All while him hearing me beg and scream for mercy and for help to rescue us. I have most definitely given up on love after my 3 months of straight abuse.
By La-Starr Sneed5 years ago in Confessions
Black and White
COLORS I was born at the beginning of the 60’s. Television was still new to the public. My parents purchased their first T.V. around my fourth birthday. I sat upon my dad’s lap and watched many shows growing up being the only female of eleven children, this gave me an advantage of being a daddy’s child. The movies were all in black and white. W. C. Fields, May West, Batman and Robin, Miss Kitty Show and Laurel and Hardy, were amongst my favorites to watch. In fact, the only time I watched television, was when my dad came home from work or on weekends.
By Poetic Empress- Original5 years ago in Confessions
Christmas Lights
I couldn’t help but notice as I walked by your house this morning that you still haven’t taken down the Christmas lights we put up together. It’s the middle of January, for God’s sake. Why are they still on your windowsill, glowing brightly during the night as if the holiday of cheer hasn’t already passed? Is it because you want to remember us? All of the things we did together? All of our Christmas memories and nostalgia? If that’s the case, then why did you break up with me in the first place? If you’re so sad about the fact that we’re over, why did you end it? You leaving those lights up on your windowsill is not helping at all. Take them down. Move on from the way things used to be. Turn them off so I don't have to see them from across my street anymore.
By Jamie Lammers5 years ago in Confessions
The Foolishness of the Lake
The rays of the sun reflected off the lake surface, in shimmering, brilliant strands. The group of girls stood near the pond, changing into swim clothing after the long hike and horse ride down the path through the woods. The lake was not swimmable, for the water was too murky, too dirty. Not from pollution though, just a natural murky, mud filled lake-hole. While the sun shone brightly on it, and the reflection of the surrounding trees was gorgeous, the water itself stank of fish and dirt and sludge.
By Michelle Devon5 years ago in Confessions
A Letter to a Friend
Dear Friend: Look, we need to talk. I took in what happened the other day, when you looked in the mirror and said you hated yourself. Maybe you were only talking about the way you looked, I don’t know, but it sure felt a lot deeper than that when I heard it, the way I heard it. You really have to be careful with your words; they have power and energy and a vibrational resonance that you react to whether you realize that or not. It’s proven science, you know, so even when you say things like you’re joking, you know the words can still do damage.
By Michelle Devon5 years ago in Confessions
Where am I from?
If you know me, I am a very social butterfly. Ask me a question, and you'll learn a lot about me. But this is a question where inside I feel that I am rolling my eyes as I take a breath to try to get this question answered. For some people, this question is a simply one word reply. But for me, there's an explanation required after the answer.
By Misty Paul5 years ago in Confessions
Life
It was a dark and stormy night, on the road there was a car with the headlight on making sure that no accident would behold on them. Seeing this shiny silken pavement started to remind him of his desire to be with his soulmate that was miles across an ocean that he knew he had to go to her. On this same night he packed his suitcase and headed down a pathway he may never return from with his desires he wanted to show his girl, getting closer and closer to the airport, thinking to himself thank the heaven I will reach my beloved soon to caress her face and hold her tight and never let go of her.
By Jo-Ann Therrien5 years ago in Confessions
