Family
When I Wronged My Brother. AI-Generated.
🧩 Introduction: The Silence That Spoke Too Loud Not every sin is loud. Sometimes, we hurt people not through shouting or insults, but through cold silence — through a heart that chooses pride over love. This is the story of how I wronged my younger brother, and how Allah taught me the value of humility, forgiveness, and family — before it was too late.
By Kaleem Ullah6 months ago in Confessions
Dunky: The Afghan Dream to Europe
Introduction Dear readers, what I am about to share is not fiction—it is a heartfelt truth, a cry from the soul of an Afghan youth. In this story, you will hear not only his voice, but also the silent pain of his mother and family left behind. It is the real account of an Afghan boy’s migration to Europe through the “Dunky” system, driven by hardship, sacrifice, and love for his family.
By Akhtar Gul6 months ago in Confessions
Chasing Peace, Not Perfection: My Journey to Letting Go
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been chasing perfection. Perfect grades. Perfect appearance. Perfect timing. Perfect everything. I lived by to-do lists, spreadsheets, color-coded calendars, and a voice in my head that said, “You’re not enough until it’s perfect.” I thought perfection was peace — that once I got it just right, I’d finally be allowed to rest. What I didn’t realize was that I was sprinting on a treadmill that never stopped, and I was the one controlling the speed.
By Aiman Shahid6 months ago in Confessions
In the Fog: My Journey Through Xanax Withdrawal
I never imagined that something prescribed to help me would end up stealing nearly a decade of my life. When I was first diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I was desperate for relief. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and daily life felt like an impossible mountain. So when my doctor prescribed Xanax, I welcomed it. I didn’t question the dosage, didn’t hesitate. I just wanted the fear to stop.
By Saeed Ullah 6 months ago in Confessions
The Last Bench We Sat On
There’s a wooden bench outside our village school. It’s old — the paint is chipped, the legs are slightly bent, and one side creaks when you sit. Most people don’t even notice it anymore. It blends into the background like a forgotten photograph on a dusty shelf.
By Muhammad Kaleemullah6 months ago in Confessions
Call Me By Your Name Again
Luca remembered the summer when everything changed. He was only seventeen when he met Adrien — a visiting French artist who arrived in Luca’s small Italian town to work on a mural for the local museum. Adrien had curly hair, sun-warmed skin, and a laugh that made strangers smile. Luca never believed in love at first sight until Adrien stepped off that train.
By Solene Hart6 months ago in Confessions
Venus Buried
The girl in the graveyard is your best friend, so you take her home. The night is a bruise between you, a blotch of rogue in the passenger window; the colour of fruit left out to fester. The body pries at her seatbelt, a finger, then two. The radio echoes static, the body shuffles in her seat. You study the face; the similar slice of jaw, the nose humped from where a baseball had hit her at twelve, just slightly off centre. The skin like a rain-licked plastic bag. The stink of musk and sulphur. You want to look away but you cannot. She's so beautiful, even like this. Your headlights rake warbled slits through the dirt road, a yellow like jaundice. Your hands are stiff from the cold, your lips cracked. The girl beside you is dead and you are bringing her home.
By Muhammad Sabeel6 months ago in Confessions
Life After Summer
Life After Summer It always begins with the wind. That soft, familiar shift in the air — when the summer heat starts to loosen its grip, and evenings become kinder. It’s not quite autumn yet, but the world begins to cool, slowly, almost thoughtfully. Just like she had.
By waseem khan6 months ago in Confessions
Full of feelings and questions. Top Story - August 2025.
Who is my mother? And what has she become? Sometimes it feels like a completely different person stands before me—heartless, distant, cruel. What turned her into this? Money? Time? Boredom? Or something much deeper that I’ll never understand?
By Anna 6 months ago in Confessions
The One Mistake From My 20s That Still Haunts Me.
In my memory, my twenties are a collection of sun-drenched, overexposed photographs. They smell of cheap beer, instant noodles, and the intoxicating, reckless optimism that we were on the verge of something incredible. At the center of almost every one of those snapshots is Maya.
By Enes Ă–z6 months ago in Confessions
