Bad Thinking Diary Author Novels & Stories

“She admitted it herself. She was the one who poisoned the tea.” Iris’s expression didn’t change. Her eyes, sharp and focused, held a glint of something between sadness and frustration. She’d suspected it all along, of course. “I knew it,” she murmured, shaking her head slightly. “I told you and Jerry, didn’t I?” “You did,” I said, regret seeping into my voice. “I just… I didn’t want to believe it. I thought maybe she wasn’t capable of something like this.” Iris sighed, her fingers grazing my arm. “It’s hard to see the truth when it’s someone you think you know, Gavin. But Ciara… she’s never been stable. I just wish she hadn’t hurt your mother in her twisted attempt to get to me.”

*WARNING* This book contains strong language and may be unsuitable for children under the age of sixteen. Viewer discretion is advised. Maxine. "What did you do dthis time Maxine?" it was clear by the tone he used that he was not at all happy being here. The feeling was mutual being really... I didn't like him being here almost as much as I didn't like me being here. "Why do you always asume that I've done something?" "You just so happened to be in the principal's office because you scored a perfect grade on your tests?" his question was totally rhetorical and full of sarcasm.

** “Dear Diary of Despair, Help. I was right about the bad feeling about Peter. He wanted to tell me something. It was a veiled cry for help. Why didn't he say it with all the words? Why didn't he open up to me? Why didn't I return his call and pressure him to tell me? I would run back. Now maybe it's too late and I pray not, because I would feel guilty forever. Even though I know that it's not my fault anyway. I didn't want to know details, it doesn't matter now. It doesn't matter if he took too much medicine, used a razor or tried to drown him.

I’m too stupid, too much in love, to realize how pathetic I’ve become. I close the diary, my lips curling in disdain. Stupid. That’s what this is. I guess at 23, it’s normal for a naive and innocent girl like Scarlet to be stupid in love. But I can’t help but judge her. How could she have been so blind, so desperate for a man who clearly didn’t care? I flip the page to another entry, and Scarlet’s words jump out at me, pulling me into her world of pain. **Diary Entry:**

It looked like a primary student being punished for making a spelling mistake after being discovered by the teacher. Hilda looked further down the notebook attentively. The person who wrote the diary had limited education. There were many misspelled words, and the grammar was all over the place. There were only a couple lines of diary entries everyday. On the second day, it was written in the notebook.. 'Adrian took some photografs of me today. I'm so happy.' The handwriting was still wriggly, as if a primary student had written it. Hilda guessed that the writer meant to write 'photographs' instead. Sure enough, the powerful handwriting appeared and drew a large cross on the word, 'photograf

An hour later, I pulled over to my driveway and went straight to bed but I couldn’t sleep that night, trying to come up with a way to save Alicia. All the good memories came back and played over and over again that night—the memories that I was fighting so had to destroy but kept on failing. The good memories then disappeared, allowing that one bad memory that I had of Alicia to keep on playing. The only memory that always clouded the good memories that I had created with her, that one bad memory that made me hate her so much. The thought of the betrayal that I got from her made me so pissed and felt like whatever that she was going through was what she deserved for deceiving me. I had zero

David; ‘Dear Diary; I’m scared. I think Dimitri is going to hurt me. He’s… I thought I understood him, but I was wrong. He is messed up. The way his mind works is alarming. I thought it was just his way of showing love before, but I was wrong. I think I want to break up with him… But I don’t know how to tell him. Or even if to tell him. I’m scared. I’m… I’m really scared.’

David's snoring in the bed beside me, oblivious to what had happened. His arm slung over the pillow where my head should be. But I'm here, in the dim glow of my phone screen, scribbling this out in my diary, because if I don't, it'll eat me alive. Today wasn't just a slip; it was a dive, headfirst into something I've been circling for months. Or years, if I'm honest. ***** At Zephyra Art Gallery, I didn't just let it happen. I started it. Me. Poppy. The good wife, the one who packs David's lunch with snacks, fruit and love notes. What the hell is wrong with me?

With mixed emotions of excitement and curiosity, she started reading Thyago's message: Dearest Miss Pretty; Reading you're diary was the best love letter I've ever read in my entire life. I was one lucky jerk to be loved by you and I hate myself because I let you go. I was a coward and stupid, I know. I just don't know what I've done right to deserve your love, Bea. You knew all of me and loved me even my flaws and weaknesses. I've been asking myself how could I hurt the person who loved me with no hesitations? I was an asshole, I only deserve this despair I feel towards missing you...

“I should be offended, Victoria, but I let it pass since my reputation precedes me. I can’t go back in time and change what I did, but I intend to prove to Matthews that I’m not that person I was yesterday. You may see me as this bully, feared, and overconfident, but what people didn’t see is what I feel deep inside, who I truly am behind this facade. I struggled to find my identity, deal with my grief, and I don’t have real friends. Unlike you, guys. Deep inside, you all are way better than me and have a life better than.” “I’m so sorry, Remy. We all deal with our issues and grievances differently,” Hailey muttered. “I’m an asshole, and it pains me to admit my mistakes when all people see i