Bad Thingking Diary Novels & Stories

ALICIA It was a wonderful day. I enjoyed the environment so much that the noise that filled the café didn’t act as a distraction. The breeze that found its way to me whenever the Café’s door opened, the laughter and jokes from a group of high school students that sat at a huge table, the fussing toddler and the two old men that were debating loudly about soccer in the corner didn’t bother me at all —my eyes were fixed on the screen of my laptop, my heart beating fast and loud, it felt like everyone in the café could hear it.

Chapter 001 ~ Hello, Little Kitten —————— LAS VEGAS, 8:00pm ‘Haruki Murakami once said, “Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional”, so I have decided not to let the pain make me suffer or lose sight of what I have. I might have lost love, but I have life, and I am going to rewrite my story.’ Amber smiled as she snapped her diary closed, feeling a sense of satisfaction and peace. She had written this two years ago, and whenever she felt hurt, she would go back to read it and remind herself of the promise she made to herself.

One biting into my neck with his large canines as he pumped into me. I pressed my thighs together tighter and cursed at myself. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Pretty Bird,” Thayer growled, “if you don’t stop that, I’m going to eatyoufor breakfast.” Cheeks flushing harder, I cursed at myself for being so fucking embarrassing and desperately tried to calm myself. This wasnothow I’d expected this conversation to go, but I couldn’t help it. I had fantasized about them for far too long. “Do you guys have my diary?” I asked, staring at the granite tabletop.

I was expecting to see him with you, but he is a low-effort Prince since he can't take care of his princess. I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I expected nothing but snide comments from him. “So, will you tell me why exactly you called me here?” He suddenly threw a book at me, hitting me squarely in the face. My face felt numb, and I picked it up. "What is this?" I asked, picking up the book and looking through it curiously. "It is Stacie's diary. Every evil thing that you ever did to her is written inside it. She always said you were a monster, and I never believed it until I saw this. You are horrible, April.”

I start to write, my hand moving quickly across the paper: "Dear Diary, I did it. I spent an entire day naked, and it was the most liberating experience of my life. I felt so free, so uninhibited. I did everything naked – watched TV, ate, cleaned the house, even danced around like a fool. And you know what? It was amazing. I felt sexy and powerful and alive. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I might do it again sometime. Maybe next weekend. Wish me luck!"

CHARLIE * * * The person I hated the most was myself, I’ve never felt so stupid, everything that happened today felt like a shadow, i didn’t even realize it until the end of the day . I was just in the room but I wasn’t there. Everyone around me kept telling me to smile for the camera, I couldn’t even fake that one thing I do everyday. I was so drained. I didn’t see Mason throughout, I saw him briefly at the after party when he came to say hello to my mother.

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

Breath hanging as i read the words; “Day 2; I met a sad boy, dear diary. A sad boy who doesn’t cry.” Doesn’t cry? A sad boy who doesn’- The room tilted for a second then. The air suddenly thick as a memory flowed in like water. My vision blurring slightly. “Why don’t you keep a diary?” His voice echoed, “You can use it to say whatever you don’t want to tell anyone. It’ll be your own secret.” I stared at him, face unclear. A young boy, A younger me. Cheeks wet with tears.

I was having a full-blown existential crisis at 11:47 PM. My laptop screen was still glowing with the evidence of my downfall: a 47-page G****e Doc titled “BDSM Research Notes – Things I Want To Try (Don’t Judge Me, Riley)”. It had bullet points, star ratings, hearts, and several unhinged paragraphs about wanting to be “gently destroyed by a hot older man who looks like he could snap me like a KitKat.” I had meant to send it to my best friend Biley. Instead, I sent it to Lucas Blackwell — my terrifyingly hot 42-year-old neighbor from the penthouse upstairs.

He watched me with quiet interest, like he already knew what I was about to reveal. When the knot finally came loose, I slowly slid the coat off my shoulders. The lingerie underneath caught the dim light. His expression changed instantly. “Fuck,” he growled, eyes dragging over me like he couldn’t help it. “You’re a bad girl.” He paused as his gaze darkened. “And I don’t like bad girls.”