Door Knob Confessions Novels & Stories

I can’t help myself and for once I got scared of death. When my breathing was calmed the door knob started to unfold away from its hold on my arm. I stayed still as it got away from my body back to the usual door knob. I stared at the door knob confused but that did not last for a long time before the door knob twisted and opened the door.

Looking at what she had in her hands, he asked, “Well, what kind of door knob was your old one?” She glanced up and caught his eyes. They were a shade of blue she couldn’t remember ever seeing before, reminding her of the sky on a clear day. “Oh, uh, well, it’s…” she fumbled with the two kits and ended up setting them down on top of a stack of door knob parts. “It’s this one.” She pulled the old door knob out of her purse. Taking the door knob from her, he turned it over in his hands. “Do you have the other half?” he asked.

He noticed the door knob of the bathroom is damaged , not a manner in which it should be spoilt from misuse but an amateur who destroyed the apertupe which receives the key . He takes a picture of it , the culprit had either used a screw driver or a compass , a bow compass , he smiled after examining the door knob once again . He was right , a part of the bow compass is stuck in the apertupe , he leaves the room collecting all the plastic bags inside a brown file case . Mr Brookes meets Detective Kennedy descending the stairs spiral stairs “ I have collected some objects from the scene ” Detective Kennedy said showing the brown file case to Mr Brookes who nodded

The moment of truth. Conor knocked on the door and there was no answer for five minutes. I felt my anxiety start to elevate as Conor knocked again. Still no answer. Uh oh! I wonder if they are alright. We traded nervous glances as I opened the door. It’s unlocked… I let us in the room quietly. The room was dark but Conor turned the light on so we could see.

One knelt with what I could only assume was a lockpick set and began working on the door. The knob finally clicked, and Mr. Masterson turned the handle and pushed, but the door still wouldn’t budge.

Warning: This story centers on a priest. If you’re uncomfortable with this subject, please skip it. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Please confess your sins” The man’s voice came from the other side of the confessional, low, deep, laced with a thick Italian accent. The kind of voice that instantly makes you picture a tall, dangerous mafia man. The kind that could make any woman feel something sinful stir deep inside her.

She couldn’t understand what could be so funny, at least not until he held up his hands. He still gripped the doorknob. Both of them actually, the dented knob that had been on the inside of the room and the pristine knob that had been on the outside of the room, still connected by the spindle, the latch that slid into the jam to lock it protruding from the midway point. She glanced back at the door and saw a hole a little smaller than a baseball where the knob had been, the wood around it broken. “I did it,” he said triumphantly, holding the doorknobs up like a trophy he’d won. “I motherfucking, bet-your-ass did it!”

Melody has always been Daddy’s good girl. Since Nick entered her life when she was eight, he has been more than just her stepfather. He became the father she trusted, the person she depended on, and the one whose approval meant everything to her. After losing her mother five years ago, Melody and Nick became even closer. Their shared grief turned them into a family of two, and Melody slowly built her entire life around taking care of him. Now, at eighteen and freshly out of high school, Melody should be stepping into adulthood. Instead, she is still living by Nick’s rules. She cooks for him. She takes care of the house. She goes to church with him every Sunday. She worries about disappo

She didn't want to cause trouble this time. They pressed their ears against the doorframe, searching for sounds from inside the room labeled janitor, a room reserved for cleaners that was usually very cramped. Faintly, there was indeed a conversation between creatures of the opposite sex inside. Coincidentally, at the same time, the room's key holder arrived and immediately turned the manual slot near the knob. The door opened to reveal two naked human in the cramped space. Maureen who had her back to them, and the young man who continued to massage the manhood on his opponent's skin.

It feels like a fresh start, even if only a temporary one. As I arrange the final touches on the nightstand, Knoxx opens the dresser drawer and places something inside. The movement catches my eye, and I turn to see him casually sliding the drawer shut. But not before I catch a glimpse of a familiar box. “Was that...?” I begin, narrowing my eyes. Knoxx glances at me, feigning innocence. “Was what?” “Don’t play dumb,” I say, crossing my arms. “That was a box of condoms. When did you even buy those?”