On their deathbed, a relative/friend/partner admits to a horrible crime. Will the narrator reveal the secret or keep it hidden?

Posted in Dramatic on Nov 22, 2024

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✍️ 66 stories

“The Ax Murder House” by Tanya Alizadeh

Submitted to Contest #278

“Right this way sir” the nurse led me down a dimly lit hall. I had taken the first train that morning once I received word, yet it had still taken me an entire day of travel to arrive at the hospital. Evening was now quickly encroaching. Candles had been lit on patients’ bedside tables, and I studied the faces illuminated by the flickering flames. I couldn’t help staring at each figure as I passed. Some groaned in restless sleep, others peered back at me with vacant eyes. The room was filled with gurgling coughs, and I wrinkled my nose at th...

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“The Journalist's Dilemma” by Bugsey Musser

Submitted to Contest #278

Christy’s breaths were miniscule. The beeps on the electrocardiogram weren’t as frequent as they once were. I looked at my fiancée’s mangled body on the hospital bed, trying not to cry. Our wedding was next week, but now, it seems like it’s not happening. Her head turned slowly to me. “Bruce,” she said through gasps. “I… I’m sorry.” “Honey, it’s not your fault,” I replied. “It was just an accident.” “No, Bruce. I… I shouldn’t have drank.” “What?” I never got a response, but I knew what she was talking about. With a flatline on the heart moni...

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“The Weight of Truth” by Frank Mahindaratne

Submitted to Contest #278

Content Warning: This story contains themes of family conflict, trauma, betrayal, and self-harm, which may be distressing to some readers. “I didn’t kill him, but I handed him the gun,” my father told me. He was on hospice, on his last stretch of breath, and he had just revealed to me a deep, dark secret. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked, my voice steady, though my thoughts churned in shock. The room felt suffocating, as though the very air carried the weight of his words. Shadows clung to the corners, the single lamp on the bedside ...

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“Make it Right” by Billy Edaem

Submitted to Contest #278

I always knew my father to be a decent man. A good man. A well-intended man. He was simple, but in a charming kind of way. He was fly paper to the lost soul. A man who breathed life into another just by being present. That’s how I always knew James “Jimmy” Rush. It’s why being sat down outside the hospital room that evening and being told my father was dying by a very matter of fact spoken doctor felt so foreign. No body was matter of fact around my father. In fact, the economy of words was lost o...

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“Grandma Brigita” by Kira Paul

Submitted to Contest #278

The steady beep of the heart monitor punctuated the silence of the hospital room. Samuel sat beside his grandmother, Brigita, her frail hand resting in his, the loose skin mottled with age spots. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and flowers, an odd combination that felt wrong. Outside, the evening darkened, streaks of pink and gold fading into deep blue. Everyone else had left to find dinner in the hospital cafeteria. Samuel had stayed, claiming he wasn’t hungry, though that wasn’t true. He just didn’t like leaving Grandma alone. “You’r...

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“Angels Legacy” by Amanda Stogsdill

Submitted to Contest #278

Angels Legacy Warning: This story contains descriptions of death and abuse Prologue "Come closer, Emma, Aggie!" Mamas voice quivered, the rise and fall of her chest her only movements. Leaning down to her ear, she whispered to us, "Look inside the dresser. Those women needed my help. I was their Angel." Taking a shaky breath, Mama lay still. The attending nurse entered then and motioned my sister and me away."What did she mean?" Agatha was just as confused as I. What dresser? Angel?" Sha...

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“Rocket Woman” by Ben LeBlanc

Submitted to Contest #278

Outside of the domed canopy of glass the martian dusk was gray and bleak, almost as gray and bleak as Mrs. Johnston felt, lying on a bed in Intensive Care, waiting to die. Earlier in the day a 4.5 magnitude marsquake had rattled the base camp, leaving one bathroom module destroyed and her room out of power, save for the backup oxygen filtration system, exhaling life into the room with a cool, watery hiss. She was reminded of her dead husband, the father of the martian O2 Filtration System. Her latter years had been a trial beyond descri...

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“Lies about Lives” by Michael Aylesworth

Submitted to Contest #278

The hospital was decorated with teal accents on a sterile speckled white floor. The hallway was antiseptic. I waited my turn to speak to my mother after her horrific accident. A car hit her in a crosswalk and fled the scene. No one saw the car well enough to report it; they were all focusing on the woman in a long black cloak flying in the air and landing on her face on the sidewalk. My father oversaw crowd control in the ICU. I was up next. He motioned with his hand, keeping his emotions buried deep so he could focus on ...

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“The Black Stamp” by Jed Cope

Submitted to Contest #278

Belief is a weird and wonderful thing. It sees us through life. It also ends lives. So often, it breezes through borders without any checks, never having had its passport stamped. We don’t question belief because we rely upon it far too much, and we do not want it to desert us in our hour of need. That hour is long enough as it is. There will always be a reckoning though and life has its own ways of asking the questions that must be asked, even if it leaves it until very late in our day. It turns out that the substitute for belief is t...

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“The Orange Leaf” by Connor Pickard

Submitted to Contest #278

This morning I awoke startled by the sour taste of dread oozing from my mouth. Twelve mornings ago I first felt dread sneak into my body like an unwanted houseguest that I couldn’t evict. Each morning since it has climbed higher through me. It started at the tips of my toes, then reached my legs, stomach, heart, and, this morning, finally, my head. As it climbed, it poured viscous, sour honey into my ventricles and capillaries until I was consumed. I knew that the day I first tasted the dread would be the day my father died. Today must be th...

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“Who Killed the Cat?” by Ivana Pavićević

Submitted to Contest #278

I’ve entered the director’s office only three times in my entire career. Once to sign my employment contract, and the other two times when he personally called me for help, convinced I was the only one who spoke the truth. But my virtues—truthfulness and the fight for justice—are, in this society, especially in a state-run firm, perceived as severe flaws. A sweet old man once told me, “My dear, some people are born this way, and injustice and lies will always bring you pain ‘till the day you die.” So far, he’s been right, though I’m not yet ...

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“A Cup of Syrup” by Corner Stone

Submitted to Contest #278

For the longest time, my mother would spend every morning rereading the same September 12th newspaper, drinking syrup instead of coffee, as she’d talk about Uncle Stephen, the “sugar silverback” renowned for his attitude that matched his sweet tooth and for having ten too many tattoos where grandma could see them each thanksgiving. Even if he tried to sneak through the relatives, he had a knack for being caught in the wrong place at the worst times, that day was no different. My father spent the next decade after that keeping my mother...

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“The Sins We Carry” by Alyssa Connellan

Submitted to Contest #278

The Sins We Carry The air in the hospital room smelled of carbolic acid and menthol, the kind of scent that clings to the walls and seeps into your skin. I sat in the hard wooden chair beside his bed, the legs uneven on the scuffed floorboards. The faint hum of distant voices echoed from the corridor, nurses in starched uniforms bustling about, their shoes tapping like the second hand on a clock. A single kerosene lamp burned low in the corner, casting flickering shadows that danced along the cracked plaster walls. I glanced at Clinton, my b...

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“Long After I'm Gone” by Marie Angel

Submitted to Contest #278

Cloudy skies threatened rain, and a frigid breeze swirled through the opened and quickly shut door, as the family members gathered in the living room. The solemn mood belied the joviality of the last gathering only a few short months before, when they gathered beneath the brightly-lit, heavily-tinseled tree, passing gaily wrapped gifts around the room, amid shouts and cheers. Now soft weeping and sniffles, along with sober faces, replaced them. The smell of fresh brewed coffee wafted on the breeze, as the door opened and shut again. The litt...

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“Stray Thoughts” by Diane Elliott

Submitted to Contest #278

Lisa had always avoided being alone with him. Something about him…. And now here she was, the only other person in the room. She refused to look at the bed, at him. His jagged breath shredded the air, her lungs working in sympathy, against her will. Her mom took in strays—cats and dogs Lisa and Jimmy loved, men they didn’t. Stu was the last of those. The first who didn’t leave.He trailed around after mother like the cats and dogs, grateful and jittery. It took a full year for him to stand up straight, that’s how it felt to Lisa. She kep...

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On their deathbed, a relative/friend/partner admits to a horrible crime. Will the narrator reveal the secret or keep it hidden?

Submissions are closed

✍️ 66 stories

“The Ax Murder House” by Tanya Alizadeh

“The Journalist's Dilemma” by Bugsey Musser

“The Weight of Truth” by Frank Mahindaratne

“Make it Right” by Billy Edaem

“Grandma Brigita” by Kira Paul

“Angels Legacy” by Amanda Stogsdill

“Rocket Woman” by Ben LeBlanc

“Lies about Lives” by Michael Aylesworth

“The Black Stamp” by Jed Cope

“The Orange Leaf” by Connor Pickard

“Who Killed the Cat?” by Ivana Pavićević

“A Cup of Syrup” by Corner Stone

“The Sins We Carry” by Alyssa Connellan

“Long After I'm Gone” by Marie Angel

“Stray Thoughts” by Diane Elliott

🌟 Similar prompts

A family argument gets out of hand. Neither side will budge, requiring a mediator with unusual methods.

A character gets caught red-handed breaking the rules, but they refuse to admit any wrongdoing. What happens next?

An apologetic letter or email from an old flame suddenly arrives — many years too late.

A court or disciplinary hearing is taking place — but the person accused does not know what they’re apologizing for.

Contest #278

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

262

Contest entries

101

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

Explore more writing prompt ideas: