Childhood
The Unlit Ballroom
The weight of it, Jesus, it was a physical thing. Sat across from her at the kitchen table, the fluorescent light above humming, buzzing, too bright for this hour. For this moment. It bleached the color from everything, made Eleanor’s face look stark, tired. My hands, clammy things, were clamped tight under the table, knuckles white. Stomach twisted in knots, a fist clenching around something sharp, something metallic. Been practicing the words for weeks. Whispered them into the bathroom mirror, into the empty air of my car on the way to work, into the deep, unforgiving night. Never sounded right. Always too small, too flimsy for the chasm they had to cross. My tongue felt thick, a slug in my mouth.
By HAADI3 months ago in Confessions
The Grave of Silence. Content Warning.
They called me cruel. But they never looked at what they left behind. I wish they could see the broken side of me—the part they help create. The part that still wakes with me. Still follows me like a shadow, never gone, always just beneath the surface.
By Elisa Wontorcik3 months ago in Confessions
The Archivist's Burden
The air in the Grand Reading Room always felt thin, even at midday, but tonight, past closing, it was a chokehold. Elias moved through the hushed expanse, his footsteps absorbed by the thick Persian rugs that had outlasted generations of scholars. Every oak shelf, every towering stack, seemed to lean in, heavy with unspoken histories, with the weight of paper and time. He was a creature of habit, an archivist by trade, but tonight wasn't about cataloging the past. Tonight was about burying it deeper, or maybe, finally, unearthing it.
By HAADI3 months ago in Confessions
The Fog in My Bones
I’m gonna tell you something stupid. Something I barely admit to myself, let alone another living soul. It’s about a place. A particular patch of earth, wind-battered and soaked in rain, somewhere on the very edge of the world. The thing is, I’ve never been there. Not once. But I feel nostalgic for it, like I left a piece of my goddamn heart on its rocky shores a lifetime ago.
By HAADI3 months ago in Confessions
She Taught Me How to Love Myself Again
I never thought silence could be this loud. A deeply emotional story about motherhood, identity, and rediscovery. From sleepless nights and teenage storms to the quiet joy of letting go, this story explores how one mother learned to love herself again through her daughter's eyes.There's a kind of silence only mothers know - the one that follows after the crying stops, after the rooms grow quiet, after the years of chaos give way to a strange, aching peace.
By noor ul amin3 months ago in Confessions
Living with Autism
All my life I have been called strange or misinterpreted. My face was always a blank slate growing up that others would project onto or use as a sign that I am not interested in therm. My actions were not ever taken louder than my face. Usually my face is taken as being different or stoic. It has been harsh lately when my face was taken to mean I was looking irritated, something it has never been taken as before until I met passive aggressive people.
By Seashell Harpspring 3 months ago in Confessions
dearest virgil,. Top Story - December 2025. Content Warning.
how are you, my consummate friend? now that we are in the same state again for the first time in years, it feels as though we couldn't be further apart. have you managed to escape your hell? i fear i have only managed to postpone my own.
By kp3 months ago in Confessions
“I Didn’t Realize I Was Losing Myself Until It Was Too Late
I Didn’t Realize I Was Losing Myself Until It Was Too Late BY: Khan I used to believe that losing yourself was a dramatic event—something loud, obvious, impossible to miss. I thought it happened in a single moment, like a crack in a mirror. But the truth is quieter. Sometimes you don’t notice it happening at all. Sometimes it feels like nothing. Just small choices, tiny compromises, little silences… until one day you wake up and the person staring back at you isn’t you anymore.
By Khan 3 months ago in Confessions
My Best Friend Vanished for 12 Years — Then Returned With a Story No One Believed
Twelve years is a long time to carry silence inside your chest. Long enough for memories to blur, long enough for hope to become a habit instead of a belief. That’s what happened to me after Ahmed—my best friend since childhood—vanished without a trace one warm summer afternoon.
By The Insight Ledger 3 months ago in Confessions
