Booktok Journal 소설 & 이야기

Dora smiled warmly and handed me the old book, saying, "Your mother would have wanted you to have it. It's time for you to know the truth about your past." Different emotions ran through my blood as I looked at the journal, belonging to a woman I barely knew. I opened the worn pages of the journal. Inside, I found detailed accounts of her life, spells, and magical discoveries. The pages were filled with sketches, incantations, and notes. “Thank you,” I said as I put it into my bag. I stepped out of my chamber and was relieved to see Troy and Antonio waiting for me just as they had promised. Troy pulled him into his arms and hugged me tightly

Alpha Kai nervously scratched the back of his neck and nodded. He had overdone things. "They are… they…" Reign stammered. "There are a lot! And no I'm not complaining, I'm just really, truly amazed!" Her smile was so bright that it lit the entire room. Alpha Kai smiled nervously as she began taking the things out of the bags. "Cookies, candy, more cookies, fruit juices, maternity pyjamas and what is this?" She asked, holding up a book. "It's uh… a… uh… a pregnancy journal. The store kept saying you'll love the idea of jotting down everything you experience throughout this journey."

He was thinking who would really be the male Alpha. "No one should be born to be the King of Alpha, if that happens I can no longer do anything." Lex exclaimed to himself while he hit the table with his hand. "Or maybe he would kill me rather if I may not follow him." Lex continues with his thoughts regarding the King of Alpha and then he shook off his head to get out of that thought. Senan who were reading a book at that time but his mind was occupied with the female Alpha. "Just incase I will not be the father of the King Alpha. What if I will kill one of my brother so no one will be a King?" Senan whispered those words in his self thinking about how would be anle to resolve his problem.

However, it is clear that from the days of yore, these two kinds have always come up with one sinister plot or another. I do not know how Arthur acquired this book but this is a personal book that I am sure was not given out willingly. In actual fact, this book is written like a journal. In it, different projects where the two kinds sort to work with each other, are recorded. I suck in my breath and adjust my posture.

I let out a sigh of relief while feeling some triumph. I decided to begin journaling – someone has told me to try it as it will help you find out who you are. I did not think much of it but as soon as I started writing down points , I felt my soul being filled with self love. After I was done with my journaling , I just sat back against my chair. Today has been good – I feel as if something was lifted of my chest , I felt something different was stirring in the air. Maybe it has to do with the weather today , but I feel like I can conquer anything that comes my way.

It pricks my interest and I wonder why I didn’t see it before. Guess I was too cut up trying to find a way and escape the suffocating smoke in the space. Scooting over, I grab the book. It’s an old leather-bound journal with several drawings and writings. I sit back down on the creaky floor, folding my legs together and then I flip through the first page that has a written sentence. “The world is dark. Full of myths. But how much do humans know?” That statement alone stirs my nerve and my curiosity flares to the nth degree. I turn the next page and surprisingly a picture falls off.

The library, her sanctuary of silence, had become a catalyst for her own story, a story waiting to be told, a story waiting to be shared with the world. This newfound desire to share her story manifested in a way she hadn't anticipated. She started writing. Not in her notebook, filled with notes and interpretations of "The Odyssey," but in a fresh, unlined journal she found tucked away in the back of a dusty bookshelf at the library. It was a small, leather-bound journal, its pages blank and inviting, a canvas for her thoughts and emotions.

The key smoothly entered the hole, with a slow twist, I heard a 'click' sound, and the drawer opened. My heart raced with joy; inside were four books. I took one and looked inside. Clearly, it was a handwritten diary. Next, I read and studied all four diaries. Only then did I understand who instructed me to write Alex's biography. And the real purpose of this book was to be made with secrecy about the names of places and notes for the authenticity of the biography.

With a cry of ecstasy, I let the overwhelming tide of sensation wash over me, my entire being shaking. BOOK REVIEW PLEASE! THANK YOU!