Friendship
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 Afridi7 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 Dzine7 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 Haider7 months ago in Confessions
My Beauty Attract Many
From the moment I stepped into adulthood, people noticed me. It wasn’t just my smile or the way I walked—it was something deeper, something magnetic that seemed to follow me like sunlight wherever I went. Friends often said, “Your beauty attracts many,” and while that should’ve felt like a compliment, it often felt like a curse.
By The Blush Diary7 months ago in Confessions
Whispers Before the Waters: The Last Conversation in Swat. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
The sky cracked open like an old wound. Heavy clouds, swollen with weeks of rage, spilled their grief over the emerald valley of Swat. The river, once a thread of life winding through the mountains, had transformed into a snarling beast. That evening, long before the headlines and rescue helicopters, long before the world would mourn for the dead, a small house at the edge of Kalam stood defiant — a fragile raft of humanity amid the rising tide.
By muhammad shah7 months ago in Confessions
The Flower That Never Bloomed and Why I Still Wait
This isn’t just about a flower. It’s about memory. Presence. Grief. An old mechanic who told me something wild by a river. And a silent cactus that’s been sitting outside my window for ten years, daring me to believe it still has a soul.
By Black Vanilla7 months ago in Confessions
I Lived in Silence for a Year After My Friend’s Suicide
I didn’t cry at his funeral. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I physically couldn’t. My body felt frozen, my throat closed, and my chest was hollow. The only thing I could hear was the echo of my own heartbeat, slow and heavy like guilt.
By Ayaz L Behrani7 months ago in Confessions
“The Last Message I Never Sent”
I still have it—your last message. Unsent. Unfinished. Unspoken. It’s been over a year since we ended things, but that message still sits there in my drafts, frozen in time. I open it sometimes, just to remind myself how close I came to saying it all… and how far I was from actually doing it.
By Silent Confessions7 months ago in Confessions
