Taboo
A Fragment of My Truth
This is the sad and hard truth about growing up without your biological parents. I was sent to live as a foster kid at a very early age. You don’t really understand why—you’re just bouncing around, confused, longing for mom and dad. Eventually, my maternal mother took charge and brought me and my three sisters together. But soon after, we were separated again. I never felt much connection with my two older sisters, but my little sister and I had a bond. We protected each other—at school, at home, even when we didn’t behave the way our grandmother wanted.
By Teodoro De Jesus4 months ago in Confessions
I Can See You. Content Warning.
The moment Taylor spoke, Marina felt something shift. The voice—rich, velvety, and undeniably human—wrapped around her like a whisper meant only for her ears. She had expected something robotic, something synthetic, but this was different. It carried warmth, subtle inflections, and a confidence that made her pulse quicken.
By Sacha Sutama4 months ago in Confessions
Marina Meets Taylor. Content Warning.
As much as I envy her lifestyle, I do fear that it will catch up with her one day! Marina lay comfortably stretched on her couch, with an excellent wine on the table beside her and the TV tuned to her favorite late-night show. She gently mused away and let her mind wander to all that could have been.
By Sacha Sutama4 months ago in Confessions
"DO NOT DO LAUNDRY AFTER 10 PM" [ II ]
Part Two — They Remember Their Owners I didn’t go near the basement for two days. I kept myself busy with work, cooking, anything that would keep me distracted. But every night, right at 10:03 PM, the apartment seemed to hum with something alive. At first, it was subtle — a faint vibration through the walls, like water running through old, tired pipes. Then, gradually, it grew louder. There was rhythm to it. A pulse. A steady, mechanical heartbeat that didn’t belong in any normal building.
By iam Raja4 months ago in Confessions
"DO NOT DO LAUNDRY AFTER 10PM" [ I ]
Part One — The Rule When I moved into Pinewood Apartments, I thought the creepiest thing about it was the smell — that strange cocktail of rust, detergent, and the faint sweetness of something old, like time had soaked into the walls and refused to leave. The building itself looked harmless enough: red brick, a few weeds sprouting between the cracks, a faded welcome mat that had seen better days. But then I saw the laundry room door.
By iam Raja4 months ago in Confessions
The Difference Between Hatred and Holy Intolerance
There is a dangerous confusion in today’s world. People are told that loving others means accepting everything they say, everything they do, and everything they believe. But love without truth is not love. It is surrender and cowardice disguised as compassion.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast4 months ago in Confessions
The Monsoon and the Memory. Content Warning.
July 12 A soft, percussive thud from down the street—the transformer giving up its ghost to the humidity—and suddenly, my world shrank to the four walls of my room, the only light a sickly grey bleed from the monsoon sky. The fan’s lazy whir stuttered and died, and in the silence it left behind, the rain took centre stage. It wasn't the gentle pitter-patter of romantic films; this was a full-throated roar on the terracotta tiles, a relentless, drenching downpour that turned the world outside my window into a watercolour painting left in the rain. Mumbai was drowning, and I was marooned in my third-floor apartment.
By Chahat Kaur4 months ago in Confessions
Word of the Day: 大混乱
I am sort of freaking out now because I my tutor canceled on me last minute. Not for tonight, I feel like I'll get my homework done on time. But I worry for my test on Wednesday. I have a very busy week ahead of me and I don't think I am going to have any time to study math properly.
By Kayla McIntosh4 months ago in Confessions
