Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Confessions.
Inappropriately Happy
We have all had moments when we have said or done something that we look back on later and hang our heads in shame or embarrassment. Like the time in grade 8 when we were doing gymnastics in phys ed and I-- a skinny, not-too-coordinated kid-- was waiting in line with the other kids for my turn to run up to the box horse and use a springboard to bounce over it. For some reason that eludes me, I decided that I would really go for it, putting all my effort into it and vaulting through the air like Spider-Man.
By Craig Williams5 years ago in Confessions
First Day Jitters . Top Story - September 2022.
The cool air of the moon still lingered through the morning as my eyes opened to the light. I pulled the covers over my face in hopes of returning to the hours of least expectation, recreating the darkness to hide from the affliction of my responsibilities. To no avail, the alarm rang into my ears and shook me out of bed. I dragged my body to the edge of the mattress, ripping the blankets from my sheltered skin, to embrace the sting of the unforgiving breeze. The crisp cold greeted the tip of my nose as it leaked in through the cracked window. It was the only way I could ease my bones into sleeping, but it always became somewhat of a rude awakening. I stumbled over, collecting what was left of the joint from the night before, and pushed the window closed.
By TheLateBloom 5 years ago in Confessions
First Date
I felt the excitement fill my veins as I brushed off the wrinkles on my floral top. I slammed the door to my black Honda Civic, flipped my long dark straight hair, and paced through the parking lot towards the entrance. As my feet hit the pavement one step faster than the other, shaking out my hands, I could not believe I was about to go on my first date with him.
By Cynthia Hernandez5 years ago in Confessions
Dear Fleur
As much as it hurts that my hands will not be the one that encapsulates yours tonight. That my lips will not be the taste that you want tonight. That I can no longer rock you to sleep or kiss you goodnight. That my embrace will no longer be as satisfactory to you as a warm bowl of soup on a cold winter evening. That my presence no longer brings happiness to your delicately beautiful face. That I can no longer run my hands through your silky hair.
By Damilola5 years ago in Confessions
The Truth of Being Adopted
I keep a bunny in a bag in my desk drawer. There is a bunny in a bag inside a square little drawer, a childhood memory tucked away like a textbook that has been forgotten to be used. She sits there like a memento from a time when I believed in the person that gave her to me.
By Becca Volk5 years ago in Confessions
Things Went Sideways
I hate first dates. Some people relish the prospect of meeting new people, making new connections and the possibility of a true love connection. Under my anecdotal, non-scientific observation these people are always extroverts. I’m an introvert, I like people who know me already. I like people whose stories I know and who know mine. I like relationships that are multi-layered, based on inside knowledge and a deep connection that is way beyond superficial. But, to get to this level of deep connection you must first meet people. Agh!
By laura hayden5 years ago in Confessions
Dear Sweet Beautiful Woman
Dear Sweet Beautiful Woman. I grew up without a role model or an example of what a woman should be. How a woman should act. What a woman should expect of herself and others around. How to set boundaries and stick to them and most importantly how to love thy self. I had read about it but did not really understand what agape love meant. Through your trails and tribulations, your highs and lows and even your darkest moments you displayed this quality. It took a lot for me to pay attention but you never gave up on me. Through my stubbornness and hard headiness you maintained a love for me. You are the one person who stood by my side. You woke me up to realize I had been settling. Settling for just so, for mediocre and for whatever anybody handed me.
By KANDACE5 years ago in Confessions
SHIT IN THE NAME OF LOVE
I was 8, maybe 9 and HE, the object of my affection, was 16 years old. Watching him glide through the neighborhood, I would sometimes inhale the air as if I could smell his cologne. It is definite that a teenage boy, caramel colored skin and dark wavy hair, wearing tight designer jeans and the latest sneakers, smelled really good like my father's aftershave. He walked with confidence, was friendly and had the whitest, straightest teeth... and I loved him. My first love was everything to me, except my age. Oh well, a girl can dream, and I did after falling asleep after a quick pillow make out session. I thought my dream was coming true, when my mother took me and my 2 sisters into the ice cream parlor and there he was, working behind the counter, ready to serve us ice cream. Captivated by his beauty, I stared visualizing neon lights surrounded him and he stared back , smiling at me with those alabaster denticles. Reality set in when I heard him bellow, in an annoyed tone, asking about WHAT kind of ice cream I wanted. I said the first thing that came to my mind, PISTACHIO MILKSHAKE. He hurriedly made it, and filled my sisters' order, my mother paid and we left the store, almost as quickly as we entered. My mother would sometimes treat us to ice cream and let us play in the park, while she went to the betting parlor.
By Antonia Webber5 years ago in Confessions
