Childhood
Under the Moonlight of Memories
It was a quiet night, the kind where even the wind forgets to whisper. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow on the empty streets. Thomas sat alone on a wooden bench, his head bowed and hands clenched tightly. The world around him was asleep, but his mind was wide awake, racing with thoughts he couldn’t outrun. Regret had become his only companion.
By The Pen of Farooq 6 months ago in Confessions
The Last Scroll: How One TikTok Changed My Life
I was one scroll away from deleting TikTok forever. It was a rainy Thursday. My phone battery was at 2%, and honestly, so was I. My job at the call center had just let me go—downsizing, they said. I hadn't told my parents yet. I was tired of hearing “it’ll get better” when every day felt like walking deeper into fog. I had dreams once—to be a writer, to tell stories, to create—but dreams don’t pay bills. At least, that’s what life had taught me.
By Muhammad Abuzar Badshah 6 months ago in Confessions
The Well's Whisper
The Well's Whisper The silence shattered the moment frantic screams pierced the humid Texas air. It was October 14, 1987 — a day that dawned like any other, filled with the lazy hum of summer’s lingering warmth and the innocent laughter of an 18-month-old child. Jessica McClure, a tiny whirlwind of curiosity, played joyfully in her aunt’s backyard in Midland, Texas, when the unthinkable occurred. One moment she was there — a bright spark of life — and the next, it was as if the earth had swallowed her whole. She had vanished into an abandoned, eight-inch wide, 22-foot deep well — a dark, narrow maw in the unsuspecting ground.
By Noman Afridi6 months ago in Confessions
The Reflection That Wouldn't Look Away
The Reflection That Wouldn’t Look Away At first, it was nothing—just a flicker. Lena caught it while brushing her teeth one night. Her reflection blinked just a beat too slow, the kind of thing you'd shrug off as tired eyes or a smudge on the mirror. She leaned closer, squinting. Everything seemed normal. The toothbrush moved when hers did. Her lips parted when she spat. She laughed at herself and went to bed.
By Huzaifa Dzine6 months ago in Confessions
The Stranger Who Shared My Blood
I never imagined that a saliva test could make me question everything about my identity. Like many people during lockdown, I got bored and bought one of those at-home DNA kits. It sat on my shelf for weeks until I finally spit into the tube and mailed it off, expecting nothing more than confirmation of what I'd always been told: half Swedish, half French, and a proud mix of both.
By Hamad Haider6 months ago in Confessions
One Click, and My Past Was a Lie
I had never thought much about where I came from. I mean, I knew my roots—at least I thought I did. We were Irish on my mother’s side, Italian on my father’s. My grandfather fought in World War II. My grandmother made the best lasagna. It was the kind of identity you wear like a warm coat—comfortable, familiar, and passed down through generations.
By Hamad Haider6 months ago in Confessions
