1st Dork Diaries Book Novels & Stories

|•| DESIRÉE DOYLE |•| I flipped onto the next page of the book in my hands, curling into a ball underneath the covers, shoving Doritos aggressively into my mouth while I thinned out the rest of the world, completely immersed in the book. It was funny how I had read two books today and was on my third.

◆◆◆ Chapter 2 ◆◆◆ I spent the entire weekend hiding in my apartment, ignoring texts from classmates who suddenly found me fascinating for all the wrong reasons. The humiliation replayed on loop as my own words, my deepest, most depraved fantasies, were read aloud in front of everyone while Darian Rho watched with those unreadable dark eyes that seemed to strip me bare without ever touching me. Monday morning, I discovered my diary was missing. Tuesday afternoon, the first text arrived from an unknown number: “Page 23. The elevator fantasy. Creative use of the emergency stop button.”

Stretching up on my toes, I grabbed the book and nearly fell backward in the process. “What the hell are you hiding, Darius?” I murmured, brushing the dust off the cover. When I opened it, my breath caught in my throat. It was a photo album. The first page held a picture of a young boy. His dark hair was messy, and he had this cocky little smirk that screamed troublemaker. I couldn’t help but smile. “So, you weren’t born an asshole,” I muttered, flipping to the next page. There were more pictures—him as a teenager, him with a group of other boys, probably his friends. And then there was one of him holding a trophy, his grin so wide it almost looked fake.

It was as if the world outside had disappeared in a blanket of ink. Her body felt heavy, and she decided to sit on the bed. It was pretty soft, and it was nothing like she'd ever been on. She opened the drawer and saw a small, leatherbound journal with the name Dorothy Stein on it. Carefully, she opened the peeling leather covers and read the first entry, which was miraculously legible.

#Dorothy’s POV# The paper-and-dust smell hits me first and I swear I can still taste him on my tongue; the door chime sings and my chest does a weird flutter like I'm both shy and greedy at the same time. My mind is still on the kitchen and my husband’s mouth and how I almost forgot how to breathe. It's stupid and sweet. I'm walking into a bookstore like I'm coming up for air. So I stand there at the mat, pressing my palm to my belly because I like feeling grounded like that. I tell myself to be normal for five minutes, to just be a person who buys tea and listens to people read, and not someone who survived a marriage contract, a diagnosis, and a city’s gossip machine with my name in its mo

Dear Diary, I’ve decided to keep a book recording all my days here at High Hill, should make pleasant reading in the future! Well, let’s start with the basics. I’m Gabriel; surname’s irrelevant as I’d rather not link myself to my parents. I’m 15; average height, wavy mousey brown hair, hazel brown eyes, and I’ve just arrived on my first day here. My parents sent me here because apparently public school isn’t good enough for me. But the reason they don’t know is that my parents would rather not have a son like me around them, snobbish twats. I’m just not good enough for them because I’m gay... Oh yes, did I not mention, I’m gay...and single... and full of a house with lots of boys in it. Oh b

They or we? The other party that threw our world into chaos was the self-proclaimed animal welfare organization Live for Animals. In an act of charity they broke into Doctor Christopher Krynick's research laboratory to bring the animals to safety. Unfortunately they had no idea what was going on and a well-meaning rescue operation turned into a global catastrophe. The proles first killed their rescuers and then escaped from the research facility to bring a plague of unprecedented proportions to the world. When a hand came to rest on my shoulder and slowly brushed the back of my neck, I tried to ignore the tingling sensation. "You can leave that nice. I'm still mad at you. "

I chirp giving her a wide smile. She doesn't respond, but simply looks away, turning pale. *** Days have passed since my shopping trip with my mother and today I'm spending the night with Miss Ann while mother works. Miss Ann is one of the nice ladies who work with mother. She watches me while mother works and will even tend to us when we are sick. I really like her! "Miss Ann, have you seen this book? It's one that mother got for me when we went out shopping. It's an old book on tactical warfare," I shout excitedly while practically shoving the book in her face.

Darla doesn't want her grades to go down. Darla now has 5 books in her hands and she is looking for a seat in the corner. She wasn't the type to be the center of attention, though the men knew Darla's face was more than enough to make them feel at home seeing Darla for a long time. Darla opened her first book and she began to read quietly. Every now and then she would take notes in her notebook when she found an important point, but Darla's focus was cut off when her phone vibrated.

I can't live my school because it's the only school that get dark-side books in it's library in my town New Orleans. I frequently used to go to library to read about story life of past oracles so I went against Mr John's advice by sneaking into the library to read my favourites untill I was banned not to enter the library anymore. Even though I was banned but he had forgotten that I borrowed a book from the library weeks ago which happened to be the darkest one called The Black Cults because I was eager to know how the black cults kill the Viper in that book.