Anonymous Diaries Novels & Stories

I can only conclude because this is not written in the diary either. "Does Duna actually know what a diary is?" I complained. After storing the ID Card and mercenary ID in the drawer, I took some packets of cookies from the cupboard and read the diary again. If I look again, the first few pages have been torn. Maybe Duna used to write a diary, but suddenly made this book into a notebook. Starting from the Xenobeast category, mercenary system, base system, to how to use guns and laser swords. January 27, 3043

“Impossible! Amod said with his eyes wide I dont believe this Amod said again, Anny smiled I dont believe it either she said, actually Anny did not believe she will be able to get through the last step of the codes, she feel that she is somehow familiar with the codes and she knows that she have seen it somewhere before but she could not remember where is saw it but when she is trying to get through the last steps, she remember she have seen the code before in her mothers diary, she is not so sure if it is the same code but she just try what her mother writes in the diary and she is able to decode the codes, she is surprised herself because she dont know it was a useful thing her mother wri

] The words were written neatly, confidently, and with an air of authority. My hand trembled as I held the pen. Was the person on the other side the seventeen-year-old Ryan? Before I could process this, more words appeared hastily: [You still haven’t answered me. Who exactly are you?] I quickly responded to his words: [I’m Anna White, thirty years old.] [The person you’ll become will hurt me. So, the seventeen-year-old Ryan, please stay away from me.] The diary fell silent. Ten seconds later, the pen carved sharply into the paper: [That’s impossible!]

I continued. Ace and I continued to take turns reading, we randomly flipped through pages to read random entries. There was still no name being mentioned, it was always anonymous. I was starting to think it was a normal diary when we found a chilling entry in the middle. "I want to kill myself," I read out loud. This caught Ace's attention as well. I gulped and gave him a tense look. "I was forced to lose my virginity today. Who would have thought that such a prestigious school would not do anything about their student getting raped? This hellhole is so fucked up. If I did not care about my family, I would have killed myself a long time ago."

Checking through the books, I noticed a black diary which lay under the books and it got me curious. I don't know why, but having to read Mac's diary became an urge that I could not resist. I picked up the book and flipped its pages open. All the stuff he wrote bored the hell out of me and I was about to give up on the diary when I saw a recent write-up and it had my name written on it. Dear Diary It's been a long time since I last saw you. I guess life issues could make one forget a friend. Anyway, lots have happened over the past few months. I have hit my ninety-nine mark on the register of girls I will fuck before leaving school.

I had been wet since the afternoon, when the memory of his voice and the stretch of him and the taste of us on my tongue had followed me through every ordinary task. I selected a different manuscript this time—an early 17th-century bestiary, fragile and beautifully illuminated—and opened it carefully in the center of the table. Then I stepped out of my shoes, placed my hands on the wood, and bent over exactly as he had left me the night before. The position lifted the back of my skirt. The air moved across my exposed cunt and the backs of my thighs. I could feel how slick I already was. I waited. At 12:03 a.m. the outer door opened and closed. Familiar footsteps crossed the room. The deadbol

I could feel the blood rushing in my ears, the little flutter in my chest, the way my fingers tightened around my pen without me realizing it. Imagine him standing just behind me, leaning over my desk… lips barely a breath away… oh yes… fuck me daddy. I shook my head, pretending to focus on my notes, but my eyes kept darting to him. My imagination refused to be tamed. “Tell me something,” I murmured to Mia. She looked at me warily. “What?” “If someone wanted to get his attention… how would they do it?” Her eyes widened. “Anna, you can’t be serious.”

type gesture, and was about to take a swig, when Michael interrupted. “Whoa! Hold on, hold on!” He jumped into the center of our little circle, his hands clamped around several little test tubes, filled with a blue liquid. He began passing them out, and once everyone in our group had one, he continued, “I figured we’d all do a shot in honor of Danni’s 18th!” Danni looked at the vial in her hand questioningly. “What is it?” “It’s a blue kamikaze.” He replied. “Trust me, it’s good.” He flipped the top off of his with his thumb, and held it out, as he glanced around at the group. “Well?”

wrote Cynthia . "OOOOOOOOOOO" wrote Damon . "What was this OOOOOOOO for ." wrote Cynthia with a narrow eye emoji . "Nothing ." wrote Damon . "Hey do you know who Natasha Warraich is ?" asked Cynthia . "As per my knowledge there is no one in our school with this name ." wrote back Damon . "Something's wrong ." wrote Damon . " Nothing .I just found I diary in my bag that sayd this diary belongs to Natasha warraich .I thought maybe it was displaced ." wrote back Cynthia .

I know that one day, I'll find what I've lost, and I'll transfer everything I write here to it. I feel a bit embarrassed, for some reason, as I describe our kiss. I smile foolishly, looking around to make sure I'm not being observed. I've been keeping diaries since I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder six years ago. In fact, it was one of my doctor's recommendations. Since I'm a visual person, I wanted something unique and personalized, so I started making my own diaries, from the cover to the pages, the design, and the printing.