Family
I Was Raised by My Sister, Not My Parents
I was only five when our mother fell ill — the kind of illness that steals more than time. It didn’t just take away her health; it took her presence, her laughter, her warmth. She spent most of her days in bed, and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was at the hospital, drifting in and out of treatments and tests. My father was always working — double shifts, sometimes triple — trying to keep the lights on and the bills paid. He was a good man, but survival became his only language. He wasn’t really present — not emotionally, not physically. We saw more of his tired shoes at the door than we did of him.
By Ayaz L Behrani7 months ago in Confessions
The Day I Climbed Over Fear
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been terrified of heights. Mortified. Even the thought of standing near a ledge makes my knees do that weird wobble thing. If heaven and hell really are in the sky and underground, I think I know which one I’d rather be closer to—and it’s not because of fire or damnation.
By ArshNaya Writes7 months ago in Confessions
The Ugly Truth
I have a confession to make. I’m not proud of it, but I depend on my wife to survive financially. It’s the ugly truth, even though I have been aware of it ever since I joined her family business. Let me share my story, I promise I won’t make it too long and boring for you.
By Rocky Manohar7 months ago in Confessions
Two People Under One Roof.
Riya stood by the window, watching the city bleed into the evening. The sun had long slipped behind the concrete skyline, leaving behind a purple haze that blurred the sharp edges of the buildings. Car headlights flickered below like restless fireflies, weaving through the endless traffic.
By Muhammad Ilyas7 months ago in Confessions
Sent Home for Scratching
The year was 1983, and I was in the third grade. My middle half-brother and I were living with our grandmother while our mother found a more stable place for us to live. During this time, we attended a school that was only four blocks from her home, and we'd walk there every day.
By Mother Combs7 months ago in Confessions
