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Write a story from the POV of someone who’s hiding a secret.

Posted in Dramatic on Aug 15, 2025

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✍️ 28 stories

The Siphon

Jim LaFleur

Submitted to Contest #316

I bring justice to the corrupt by draining their ambition, leaving them hollow and content, but I have to put all that stolen hunger somewhere. The snow globe sits on my kitchen counter, filled with what looks like ordinary water and artificial snow. But when the light hits it right, you can see the shimmer of something else entirely. Pure greed, distilled and trapped. It belonged to Mark Veil, the pharmaceutical CEO who jacked insulin prices until diabetics started dying in parking lots. I found him in his penthouse office, counting profit ...

12 likes

Shadows in the Classroom

Hannah Lynn

Submitted to Contest #316

Shadows in the Classroom Looking at the box of crayons on the coffee table, I knew it was time to have the conversation."Come, Sarah, I have a story to tell you." I cleared the back-to-school shopping bags off the couch, making room for my granddaughter to sit next to me.“Mom! We talked about this. We agreed not to,” my daughter said, a hint of anxiety creeping into her voice.“Abigail, don’t interrupt your mother,” I reprimanded. “Come, little one, let your grandmother tell you the story.” Sarah abandoned her bag of art supplies and joined m...

12 likes

Secret Life of Otis Wong

George Georgerfrost@gmail.com

Submitted to Contest #316

My name is a contradiction. That is the first thing you should know about me. I read about things I’ve done in the newspapers. Some of it is accurate, but other accounts are not. I am not here to tell which stories are true and which stories are false.All I can tell you is, I am not who you think I am, but I think that is a good place to start. I was born Bo Wong, in the city of Canton on March 4, 1962, in the Year of the Tiger. Growing up in our small apartment, I quickly learned the value of love and kindness from my mother Ai. My mothe...

8 likes

Dirty Work, Dirty Secrets

Submitted to Contest #316

Wednesday 6:55 p.m. – Jessica’s HouseThe housekeeper was still shaking when the officers walked in. Jessica Wright lay on the bathroom floor, flat on her back. A GLP-1 injector pen rested on the counter.“Overdose,” Officer One said, crouching to examine the body.Officer Two shook his head. “Not clean. She’s dressed. Bruising here, here, here.” He pointed along her arms and ribs. “Doesn’t fit. Pen’s empty too.”The bathroom looked staged for a feed. A camera light glowed against the sink. Supplements lined and on display. A cue card lay near t...

8 likes

Sailor With a Secret

Mary Bendickson

Submitted to Contest #316

Sailor with a Secret After checking over my shoulder I steered my 30-foot sailing yacht into the small, safe looking harbor. I hoped it would be a big enough to provide all I needed. Finding an empty slip in the public sector proved easy enough. Question was if they had a refilling/dump station. It was standard at all but the tiniest ports. At least I could restock a few items and be on the open water again until I found a bigger port of call. I noticed a bar-restaurant nearby so decided to tie up and go ask some questions. My charts, GPS an...

8 likes

I Am the Silent Witness

Submitted to Contest #316

I Am the Silent Witness The old Victorian house on Pictor Street stood as a sentinel of mysteries, its gabled roofs sagging with the weight of countless secrets whispered through the years. Ivy clung to its weathered walls, which seemed to thrum softly in the moonlight, as if the very structure was alive and breathing through its cracked façade. In the attic, a solitary skylight—a dusty pane of glass—captured the widow’s imagination, earning the affectionate title of her “window to the stars.” Each night, as she gazed upward, she felt t...

7 likes

The Silence of My Voice

Anna Soldenhoff

Submitted to Contest #316

I never thought silence could feel like a punishment. Yet here I am, in a villa perched on the cliffs above Cavtat, listening to the Adriatic stretch itself endlessly before me, and realizing that the silence I have chosen is not freedom—it is a sentence.I used to sing. Not casually, not for the faint appreciation of a café crowd. I sang in halls where chandeliers glimmered like captured stars, where the audience held its breath at every note, and I gave them all I had. My voice carried joy, sorrow, longing, despair—everything a heart could ...

6 likes

Que sera, sera

Rya Johnson

Submitted to Contest #316

Amani Jacobs tilted her head, peering at the delicate script inked on her mother’s shoulder. “Mom, what does that tattoo mean? ‘Que sera, sera’?” The dark red letters curved in elegant loops, ending in a gold-trimmed rose that looked real enough to touch. Gianna Jacobs smiled, a flicker of memory in her eyes. “It means whatever will be, will be. An old friend taught me that.” “Friend, huh? Do I know this friend?” Gianna chuckled, but said nothing. “Moooom,” Amani whined, nudging her gently. “I’m twenty-two and have never even seen you go on ...

5 likes

To Appear Untouched

Kristina Warlen

Submitted to Contest #316

By the time Gabriel and Avery walked through the door, Jules had already erased the evidence she had slept there. The sheets were pulled tight, the pillows stacked without crease, the faint warmth of her body traded for a starch-cold smoothness. In the kitchen the counter gleamed, though she remembered the knife dropping to the surface as she buttered toast in the half-dark. The mug she had used was wrapped in a grocery bag and tucked beneath the driver’s seat of her car, still damp at the rim. She let them step inside the house she had alre...

4 likes

Pearl Collar

Savannah Drewniak

Submitted to Contest #316

Bloody pearl necklace adorning her neck and a Colt M1911 clutching in her right hand. The speakeasy was bolstered with crowded voices and cigar smoke. The floor was littered with sequins and feathers, mostly white and wine red. A singular woman, Rhonda Wagnar, took heavy steps towards the center table. Her heart pounded against her ribs, vibrating in her sternum.Gripping a cigarette holder, she swiftly grabbed a cigarillo and a couple packs of cigarettes from the bar, mumbling something about keeping her tab open. Cladded in a sparkling blac...

4 likes

A Hare in the Woods

Aliona Pires Diz

Submitted to Contest #316

I crept up to the hut early in the morning, slipping like a shadow past the fishnets—still damp, hanging from wooden stakes. A startled cat arched its back, dropped a half-eaten fish tail, and darted under the house to hide. Look at him, all skittish! As if he’s any better—black as soot himself…The old planks of the porch groaned under the pointed hooves, and I, catching myself, quickly pulled on the boots strapped to my belt. I’d better check on her, then sweep the path out front with a broom. No sense leaving tracks behind.A godforsaken co...

4 likes

The Cafe Appointment

Brian Haddad

Submitted to Contest #316

Tammy's stomach churned and a sickening, green stench rose up through her blouse in a hot cloud, burning her nose. She was sure she'd throw up soon, or her abdomen would rupture, turning her into a human-sized stink bomb of sick filth and nervous gas. She looked at her manager with pleading eyes. "You can't be serious," the manager hissed. Her eyes darted nervously to the crowded bank lobby, a dense line of impatient customers snaking all the way to the double glass doors leading outside. "You're done with training, you don't get a scheduled...

4 likes

THE WEIGHT OF THE BELL

Melinda Madrigal

Submitted to Contest #316

I hear it every morning before the sun rises—the bell in the tower that no one else seems to notice. It’s not loud, not even particularly melodic. Just a soft chime, like a breath held too long. I pretend not to hear it, like everyone else. That’s part of the secret. The town thinks the bell is ornamental, a relic from a time when we still believed in omens and guardians. They walk past it, heads down, earbuds in, coffee cups steaming. But I know better. I know what it’s guarding. Or rather, what it’s warning against. I was twelve when I fir...

4 likes

Stasis

Dudley Mutatina

Submitted to Contest #316

“Look alive,” Ana shouted from the back of the ambulance. “Another emergency just came through.” Red reached up and turned on the sirens. “Where to?” “Near the stadium.” From the passenger seat, Verona pulled up a map on the dashboard. “Rush hour traffic on the highway.” Red smirked and veered towards the on-ramp. “That’s what I’m here for.” Ana braced herself. “Make sure we get there in one piece, please.” Up ahead, traffic had come to a complete halt. Red gripped the steering wheel tighter and sped up, his eyes beginning to glow. In an ins...

4 likes

In My Skin

Florida Meng

Submitted to Contest #316

I wish I could say my severe face eczema is the ugliest thing about me. It would be so much less shameful than the truth. Maybe that’s why 7 years ago, I did the craziest thing I’d ever done and I posted a selfie to Facebook during the worst flare-up of my life. It felt so powerful to confront my biggest fear in such a convincing way. But what I conveniently left out was that an even bigger fear had taken its place around a truly hideous lie. Up until that point, I had done everything in my power to prevent anyone from seeing the real me, an...

4 likes

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