Confessions Novels & Stories

Silence settled—not awkward, not tense. Honest. “I wasn’t sure if I should say this,” he continued. “I’ve practiced it a dozen times. Every version sounded wrong.” I felt my pulse quicken. “You don’t have to—” “I do,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve waited long enough.” My fingers curled around the edge of the table. This was it. Not the beginning. The reckoning. “I used to think confessions were selfish,” Darius said. “That telling someone how you feel only shifts the burden onto them.”

I felt trapped and scared. "Yes," I whispered into the blackness. "I'll confess." "Begin." The command echoed around me. "I... I had sex with Brad this afternoon," I started, my voice trembling. "In my bedroom. My mother caught us and—" I felt my face burn with shame. "That is not a confession, Jenna!" he roared, and the room seemed to shake with his anger. "That is a report! Real confession comes from the heart! It is cinematic! You must describe the sin so I can feel the weight of it! Tell me exactly how you fell into the darkness!" My stomach twisted as his voice grew louder.

“I can assume it’s the same for you, Tyrith.” What did that have to do with anything? I nodded. It was one of things ruts and heat had in common. The sexual desire grew to the point where its victim would lose their minds. If one was not careful, they would do the most shameful acts with the worst people. Back in college, one of the omegas in my lecture went into heat and slept with a professor. They were both ashamed of their actions. We could see it on their faces. Eventually, the professor resigned and moved elsewhere. The omega transferred. Heat and rut never cared who their victims slept with as long as they slept with the nearest affected person. We had to deal with the repercussions a

Although I was hidden, I knew he would recognise my voice straight away. "Bless me, Father," I whispered nervously, "It has been eight months since my last confession." He spoke from the bible and made the sign of the cross before continuing. "What would you like to confess, my child?" He asked. Oh god, please forgive me. "I have been indulgent in... lust." I admitted. I was expecting a gasp or some judgement, but honestly, I had no idea what other people spoke of in these confessions. "Do not be afraid," Father Daniels spoke. "This is a safe place. It is just you, me and God."

“You’re all I need, Aiden.” “But you’re shaking,” He said worriedly. I bit my lower lip. Despite the little flames crawling inside my body, burning me whole, I was shaking. I gripped harder on his shoulders, perhaps blushing as my lips curved into a sheepish smile. “I have a confession to make.” I swallowed hard; my core was wet as I felt his hard manhood. “Confession…” He grinned, lowering his head and hovering his lips on my ear. “Better confess everything, Baby, because I’ll surely punish you today if I find out you misbehave.”

A humorless chuckle slipped his lips. "Love... it's such a foolish emotion. It blinds your senses and put your intelligence to shame. I was young, carefree, and reckless with no care for the consequences of my actions." His eyes glistened with a sheen of tears. "I never once thought my one mistake would come back to haunt me forever."

The next morning, department head Luther Kovac called Thea and me out by name. He accused us of stealing Rachel's work and announced we'd be formally disciplined. Rachel watched us with a satisfied smile. Thea gripped my hand hard. The more ridiculous Luther's accusations got, the tighter she held on. Finally, she stood. "But Micah and I made that proposal together. Rachel stole our work." Rachel's voice went cold. "Where's your proof?" Thea's shoulders dropped. She was right. We didn't have proof. Luther got bolder after that, his words sharper by the second.

“We are doing everything right now because by morning you might change your mind. Listen. As soon as we end this call, I will send you the write up of what you will have to say while making the videotape. I felt my breath hitch. “What write-up?” I asked though deep down I already knew what he was talking about. “The confession,” he said smoothly. “The one where you accuse Leo of rape so he gets charged. There is concrete evidence to back it up so don’t worry. Even your parents will be proud of you.” I shut my eyes, the weight of guilt pressing down on me as I bit my lower lips listening to my heart thumping really fast. “But he didnt rape me.” I whispered.

To whom it may concern: This statement serves as both my confession and my testament. I, Harrison Ford, solemnly and sincerely confess responsibility for the murders of Catherine Thompson and Elisa Velasco. To those mourning them, I offer my deepest apologies. And to anyone who once believed I was a better man than this, I am profoundly sorry for betraying that belief.

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,