Childhood
They Left the Basement Door Open
They Left the Basement Door Open It was an unspoken rule on Calderon Street: Don’t ask about the basements. Every house had one—solid concrete stairs leading into a dark below—but they were always sealed. Some with heavy padlocks, others welded shut, and one even bricked over entirely. Kids made up stories, of course. Nuclear shelters. Secret labs. A collective effort to hide something awful.
By Huzaifa Dzine6 months ago in Confessions
The Day I Died. Content Warning.
I had a long life ahead of me. I had 2 kids and a loving wife. I perfect, sincere job. I was on a run to become the headsman in my institution. Everything looks clean and clear. But there's something we always forget. The ending.
By Kelly Munala Brookes6 months ago in Confessions
What No One Tells You About Your Late 20s
When you’re in your early 20s, you think you’ve got all the time in the world. You’re living off iced coffee and vibes, convinced you’ll figure it all out eventually. And then suddenly, you blink and you’re about to turn 30, wondering how your back hurts from “just sleeping wrong.”
By The Arlee6 months ago in Confessions
My dog didn’t just fill the silence—he became my voice
There was a time in my life when silence wasn’t peaceful—it was painful. The kind of silence that gets into your bones. The kind that, after loss, after loneliness, after life, takes away those few voices that used to make you feel seen.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Confessions
The Clock Strikes Her Name
The old grandfather clock stood in the corner of the dimly lit parlor, its wooden case scarred by decades of neglect. It hadn’t worked for years—no one in the Hawthorne family had bothered to wind it since the accident. But tonight, as midnight approached, something stirred inside the ancient mechanism.
By ATTAULLAH SHAH6 months ago in Confessions
The Ones Who Never Learned to Numb
I’ve always admired people who can shut things off. The ones who can bury their emotions like they were never there. The ones who don't cry in public. The ones who can read the news and not flinch. The ones who can walk past a homeless man and not carry his story in their chest for the rest of the day.
By Prince Esien6 months ago in Confessions
I Took a DNA Test for Fun. What I Found Out Made Me Move Cities
I didn’t think twice when I ordered the DNA test. I wasn’t chasing some long-lost family mystery. I wasn’t adopted. I wasn’t even curious, really. It was just one of those impulsive decisions — like ordering sushi at midnight or downloading a sleep-tracking app I’d forget about in two days.
By Shoaib Afridi6 months ago in Confessions
Whispers in the Rain
The rain fell gently on the cobbled path, each drop like a whisper from the sky. Emily pulled her woolen red cap tighter as she looked up, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. Beside her, Thomas reached out his hand, letting the raindrops collect on his palm. They weren’t bothered by the cold or the wet. To them, the rain was magic — a curtain that separated the real world from their secret one.
By The Pen of Farooq 6 months ago in Confessions
The Unwritten Letters I Never Sent to Myself
I used to write letters to myself every year on my birthday. I don't remember why I started—maybe because I thought it was poetic, or maybe I just wanted someone to talk to. Someone who understood me better than anyone else could.
By Jawad Ali6 months ago in Confessions
