Top Stories

Stories in Confessions that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.

Unexpected Villain of the Piece
When I was younger, I always felt I would be the good guy, the hero in my life story. I think most people do? No one really wakes up one day and thinks “I am going to be the villain”. Even Mega Mind decided to be bad because he tried so hard to fit in and then felt everyone was against him because he was a blue kid with a big head and who seemed to be quite clumsy.
By Paul Stewart4 years ago in Confessions
Not Lamb Brain Fritters
Hello Mum, As May is the month of Mother’s Day, Vocal has a new challenge for writers to conquer. It asks that we write you an open letter and confess to something we never planned to tell you and that got me thinking.
By Colleen Millsteed 4 years ago in Confessions
Confessions Of A Son On Mothers Day
Dear Mom, Happy mother’s day! I am overjoyed to be able to celebrate mother’s day with you. I know I don't say it often enough but I love you and you have been there for me through all the good times and the bad times, through the laughter and the tears.
By Richard Bailey4 years ago in Confessions
One Afternoon in May
Hey Mum, Do you remember that time when we were walking down that grey-stone street in Huntingdon one afternoon in May, some seventeen years ago now? You’d let me choose my outfit that day. I was wearing my glittery pink trainers, fuzzy lavender bodywarmer, and tulle skirt over striped tights.
By Rose Waters4 years ago in Confessions
Waking up in the Train Station
I don’t make a habit of sleeping on tables in train station waiting rooms. Sometimes there isn’t a choice but on the bright side, it was certainly better than the out-of-service escalator I tried to bed down on earlier; but more on that later.
By Jim Adams4 years ago in Confessions
Letting This Cat Out Of The Bag
I would never tell her this, but my mother had some bad kids. This is just one of the many mischievous things my sister and I got up to. Bless my mother’s heart!
By E. J. Strange4 years ago in Confessions
It's about me, not you!
Dear Mum, Here we are again. Two journals filled and counting! When Julie, you know, that therapist I’ve been seeing for the past couple of years (thanks to growing up with a challenging mother like yourself, the one you said was a complete waste of my time and money, why do I need a therapist, there’s nothing wrong with me outside of the fact that I just don’t listen to you enough!) suggested I write in a journal and get off my chest all the things I tend to say that just aren’t helpful and usually end up with you looking bewildered and wounded and me wanting to beat my head against a brick wall, I don’t think either of us thought I would be quite so prolific. She says it helps me deal with my ‘grievances’ in a more ‘constructive’ way. According to her and her fancy doctorate, sarcasm and gentle self-loathing are not overly ‘mentally hygienic’. Honestly Mum, she sounds ALOT like you when you haughtily remind me that “sarcasm is the lowest form of wit”. The primary difference between the two of you is that her judgement and condescension cost me money while yours costs me my self-esteem.
By Lilly Cooper4 years ago in Confessions
I will Serenade You, Momma
I want to appreciate my mum's time with me, even after she left. I miss her so much but I understand that she needed time away from the pain she felt; she needed some peace for herself to heal, so she did what was necessary to protect us. She had been diagnosed with cancer when I was seven years old. After spending two hours in chemo, her condition started deteriorating; her breathing became ragged and her skin was turning a deep blue color. Her last words were, "I love you, baby, I hope you know how sorry I am." She passed on just over a year ago.
By Fiction 'Ai' Writer4 years ago in Confessions
Dear Mother,
Dear Mother, On the night I flew into Baltimore, you were on my mind the whole trip. Not because I didn't think I'd see you again, but because you were visiting a place that would make it hard to keep those high hopes.
By Carlton Burns IV4 years ago in Confessions
What Mental Illness Looks Like
The last six months have been a reckoning. Reckoning: the settling of an account. Reckoning: retribution for one’s actions. Reckoning: the art of estimation.
By Dane BH4 years ago in Confessions
My mom smiled at me. Her smile kind of hugged me.
I've always wondered what it's like to set your children free in a world filled to the brim with unpredictability. Becoming a mother was my greatest accomplishment, and it makes me think of you. It's true what they say, you know, one never understands the love of a mother until becoming one.
By choreomanias4 years ago in Confessions
You Ruined The Stars
I can't look at the stars anymore. You ruined them for me. You ruined them because we were looking at the stars that night. Shivering. We were the only two left by the fire. Now I know why you stayed out even though you couldn't stop yawning. All of our other friends had long gone to bed but you claimed you weren't tired. As for why I stayed out so late that night, I don't know, but I liked being with you. I liked when we held hands to tease our friends who thought we were together, even after they had left. I liked when I got sleepy and moved closer so I could rest my head on your shoulder and you put your arms around me. I liked hearing our footsteps pound on the asphalt as we ran back towards the fire because the cold was pinching at our skin.
By twenty-something4 years ago in Confessions