Anonymous Diary Books Novels & Stories

Yet, there was an unmistakable presence that lingered behind. My eyes immediately landed on the disarray of belongings scattered around—a half-folded sweater draped over a chair, a pen precariously close to rolling off the edge of the desk, and a small leather book shoved clumsily behind a lamp. As I stepped closer, curiosity got the best of me. I pulled the book out, brushing away a thin layer of dust that had settled on top. It was a diary—Reya's diary. My heart dropped. I opened it carefully, flipping through the pages filled with notes from class, doodles of flowers and strange symbols, and the margins packed with her thoughts—snippets of poetry, quotes she adored, and random observation

All their earlier promises meant nothing then. -------------- Dear Diary… It is a lonely place, a dungeon, when you are locked up on your own and left alone too. I guess he has a home to return to. And I have no wolf to talk to now either. Just four walls to look at. If this is how things go, I am likely to go insane… ----------------

LESLIE’S JOURNAL ENTRIES 001 ******* Dear Diary, Scratch that. Dear Journal? Well, you’re sort of pink, handmade and gotten from the roadside stall of a little girl working on some class project so maybe you're really a diary. However, I am going to pretend this is a journal and this is the beginning of me journaling my new life in a new city. I read somewhere online that it’s a therapeutic practice. For me, it’s an escape. The only way I can express myself in a world where I feel more alone than I have ever been.

Via called, "You should be using your free time to take a break from the academics. Otherwise, you'll die a nerd." "I am not studying. It is a dear diary. You should start yours too." Her friend stopped her writing to respond. Via was aware of the purpose of a daily diary; she had read several books series of the Royal Diaries from their school library. Those kinds of fictional diaries of actual female figures royalty as a child throughout history. She was well knowledgeable of the unwritten rule that they are supposed to be personal. That means it should be a secret even from their closest friends. However, Via's curiosity wanted to read the thoughts of her friend.

It is old but seems to be well cared for. “Diary? Who uses a diary now? ” I whispered to myself as I hurried to open it. I was not mistaken. It was indeed a diary. Stoney isn’t a pure stone at all. He’s a softie. Funny that there were still drawings around the notebook cover back then. This is really it. I can already feel the MMK-like story of Cormac. . . the story that will win us over to AFA 2020. The first entry in that diary came to me. It was dated sixteen years ago. March 21, 2004.

Setting the book on the bed I finished putting my clothes on. The sound of the shower told me I would not see Ava for probably a half hour. Besides I had not planned on staying much longer since I had no idea when her parents would return. I went to leave but the diary caught my eye once more. A quick peek would not hurt. Lifting the book, it opened near the middle where she had left a pen in as a bookmark. I had not been prepared for what she had written. "Dear diary, why am I so horny all the time? This morning, I was rubbing my pussy before I was even awake. I cam twice and I was dreaming about getting rapped! Is there something wrong with me for that?"

Starting from the mini shelf in the room that was filled with Anna’s favorite books, she searched through her closet, bathroom, table, and finally the drawer until she found a book, Anna’s diary. She flipped the pages immediately and frowned, there wasn’t much written in it. Just feelings and dates, it was not enough, but it was better than nothing. Avi smiled and hurried out of the room before someone noticed after taking one more glance around the room to make sure nothing was out of place.

The moment his foot touched the wooden floor. the endless corridor behind him disappeared. Only the room remained. Dust floated gently through the golden light. Everything was silent. Too silent. On the desk rested an ancient notebook bound in black leather. Unlike the White Book... it had no title. Only a single silver symbol burned softly upon its cover. Adrian reached toward it. The notebook opened by itself. Its first page contained only one sentence. Every author forgets who they were... until the final story calls them home. A sudden pain shot through Adrian's head.

She was feeling amazing and excited because for the very first time, Thyago finally notices and known her existence. When she got home after class, she went straight through her bedroom. Feeling happy and inspired, she decided to make a diary of her own. Not necessarily a typical diary where she'll write about her daily living, it was more like a journal where she will write down all the kept emotions and feelings she has for Thyago. She planned to chronicle all her interactions and emotions she had for Thyago. Something inside her wanted to write and savor this feeling of happiness she has for him because if not, her heart will explode in too much excitement and joy. And there into her bedr

Stop giving out too many details," another voice echoed, surprising me. Eliot's lips still moving. Talking. But somehow I couldn't hear anything. His features slowly fading out, my mind a puzzle, shifting, a weird foreign but yet familiar feeling taking over my body. And finally, an image played out. "Why don’t you keep a diary?” the voice echoed. From a boy. A much younger boy. Very young. “You give out too many details, you may as well keep a diary. You can use it to say whatever you don’t want to tell anyone. It’ll be your own secret.”