Confessions Novels & Stories

Then all eyes turn to me. “You may speak, my son.” The Father’s voice makes my breath cease. Unlinking my fingers, I fist them at my sides, gathering all the courage I can muster. “I-I’ve killed, stolen, and am guilty of the seven deadly sins. But I don’t want to be free from them, except one… Lust.” The silence is jarring. Nothing moves. What are they thinking? They better not judge me. Confession Tuesdays are highly confidential. It better stay that way.

“I- I-“ Holden stutters. My blood runs cold. (Bethany POV) I am the most disgusting, despicable waste of space slut ever. Not only did I cheat on Deac, but I then lied to his face; I couldn’t talk, so when he confronted me about the betrayal, I said the baby might not be his. This little thing inside me is most definitely his. Deacon was the only guy I ever slept with at that point; I never had sex with anyone else. I did other stuff, don’t get me wrong, but I never had sex with anyone else. I admit I was wrong. I was a slut. I couldn’t say no… I had/ have no respect for myself. I never have. Thanks to my childhood, I hate myself; I don’t think I’m worth anything. I let men see me as a sex o

The prosecutor played portions of the recording again. “You’ve heard Mr. Pembroke’s own words. His confession. His pride in what he did. He didn’t just admit to the crime. He bragged about it. Called it ‘solving a problem.’ Called Arthur Lockwood a ‘liability’ that needed to be ‘eliminated.’” “This isn’t a case of reasonable doubt. This is a case where the defendant recorded his own confession. Where he admitted, in detail, to conspiracy to commit murder. Where he showed no remorse, no regret, no recognition that he’d taken a human life.”

And sometimes aliveness looks like being held down, used, ruined in the best way. What would you do if you weren’t afraid? So began our exchange. Anonymous confessions slipped behind the brick, thoughtful, and increasingly depraved, responses appearing within a day. I confessed to fantasies I’d never spoken aloud: being choked until my vision blurred, being spanked until I cried, being fucked on my knees in a public place where anyone could walk in. I confessed to coming so hard thinking about a stranger’s belt around my wrists that I left teeth marks on my own arm to keep quiet.

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 did anyway. Unknown number. No photo. No link. Just a sentence that made my skin go cold. You can’t seal a confession. My breath stopped. Then another message arrived—this one a file transfer notification from a platform I didn’t recognize, as if someone had dropped a package on the internet and addressed it to me. File available: “CONFESSION.mp4” The room blurred at the edges. I didn’t open it. I didn’t touch it. I held the phone out to counsel like it was venom.

It was the fear of someone who had carried a secret for so long that the truth had finally become more frightening than the lie. "I'm your father," he repeated quietly. I took a step backward. "No." "Melody—" "No!" My voice cracked. "Don't say my name like that. Don't stand there and tell me you're my father as if you've just told me the weather!" Clara remained beside the doorway, watching us. She didn't look surprised. That frightened me almost as much as Nick's confession. "You knew?" I asked her. She lifted her chin slightly. "I suspected."

Lucien’s face filled the frame, silver hair catching the study lamp, eyes level, voice calm as a weather report. “My name is Lucien Sinclair, and this… is the truth.” She watched. Watched him list the abuses. The cheating. The twins separated at birth. The staged accident. Watched him pull out the folder. Watched the forged statements. The doctored emails. The manipulated audio of her own voice. Watched him say, his voice cracking at the perfect moment, “This is my confession. And the woman responsible… has always been under my roof.” The video ended. Silence filled the room, thicker than the air.

I gulped nervously and pulled my cami down, which always managed to roll up and put my not so slim waist on full display. "You are standing two inches from me and still manage to get lost in your dream world! Wow!" Vic whistled in my face. "I was doing no such thing." I said as I went past him, glad to have some space between us. "Oh really!" Yes, really! I turned around only to notice that his eyebrow had now disappeared behind those soft curls... Don't look at those curls, goddammit! And when I feel mushy, embarrassed or nervous, I resort to the only tools in my defence, - aggression and nonchalance.

That night I remember I was so happy and then the next thing I know I was in their mess. "I'm sorry Lucas, I was planning to tell you but it can affect your condition" Pate said to me with the guilt on his face. "You didn't tell me because of my condition?! Pete! You know that I deserve to know the truth!" I shout at him and he was trying to pacify me. All these time I believe it was an accident, I never thought that I was caught up with an ex-lover quarrel. I don't want these things. "I'm sorry Lucas, but I was on Pete into these matter. We all know that it can affect your condition right now" -my twin sister Lucia said to me and I was shocked that they already know it.