Contoh Diary Remaja Novels & Stories

I calmed myself and went to sleep even it was still daytime. I write on my diary. I started my diary since the time Hero started making moves on me because I have no one to tell my feelings about him. I can't tell my problems and worries about him to my father, so I bought a thick notebook and a small box that I can securely keep it. In my diary I write everything about him, my feelings, hatred, anger, happiness, worries, and funny things we did. It made me smile so crazily when I wrote about our sex escapades, his insatiable sex drive on me, how I love him, his weird allergy to women.

I heard the car engine start before i hang up the phone. Taking another deep breath, i leaned back on the bench after picking my Diary up. Flicking the lock open, i stared at my neath handwriting and at the top right corner of the first page, it bare the date of the day i started writing on my last Diary. Senior year of highschool...

I'd rather write it down in a diary than share it with someone who can't even understand the words I tell. For seventeen years, I have kept this diary inside my old bag. Luckily, I didn't lose it. It's one of the things that I cherished the most. This diary make me feel like grandma was just beside me. As I opened it, I saw the letters I wrote since I was in elementary. Until I turn into a teenager, I still wrote in this diary.

Dear Diary, Hi. It's Gabriella. This is the first time I've kept a diary so excuse me if this turns out awkward. I decided to write because something weird happened to me last week - until now actually - and I badly needed someone to confide in since I don't have any friends.

It was easy to spot her since they were having a sports day. "You only got me, unfortunately," I chuckled as I pulled out a diary book for her from my handbag. "This is for you." "What is it?" She asked as she took the diary. "I had one when I was your age. It helps to write down the chaos in your head and keep them inside the book. That way, things don't get into you very easily. I know how chaotic things get when you're 15." She gave me a brief hug again. "Thank you, Miss Darla."

“Are you okay?” “I will be,” I replied, clutching the journal tightly. The truth was in my hands, and soon, everything would be clear. Later that evening, I sat on my bed, the journal in front of me. Martins sat beside me, his presence comforting. I took a deep breath and opened it, flipping through the pages filled with teenage musings and high school memories. Then I found it. The entry from the night of the bonfire. My hands trembled as I read my own words:

That would be one of the worst things to do… --------------- Dear Diary…. This is getting out of hand, I think. I need to stop this now. I am pretty certain I am crushing on him. Nooooo! Maybe it’s because he’s older and he’s paying me attention. Like crushing on a friend's older brother sort of thing. That’s all, I’m sure. But I feel drawn to him. It is driving me insane! Though he doesn’t help with how he acts. He should know better. He is older. Well, not much. I think he is 20, 21? 22 at a push. So maybe a few years older than me. So he isn’t massively older, but I’ll still blame him and say he should know better. I am almost 17. I am meant to be all heart-eyed over guys, right? So total

The sides of the pages of the diary crumble in my hands and are reduced to ashes. The sun has come out and I start to sweat. I look at the diary. It has nothing written on the cover, except the year—2010—which is faded. There is no auto in sight. I sit on the pavement and flip through the contents. It is nearly full. The handwriting is not the best, but it is neat and deliberate. The first few pages are damaged beyond recognition. The top-right corners of the pages keep crumbling into charcoal.

*** Dear Diary, As I write on this final page, I want to thank you for being a safe space for me to share my thoughts. Writing here has always been a way for me to communicate with clarity, to learn more and to be more productive. It has always given me an awareness of reality, thus helping me make better decisions for me to be happier and to live more focused. I have a lot of written memories here, and I wish I could write here forever. Thankfully, I can go to the pixie in the enchanted forest to get another diary just like this one so I can continue those special memories. I will definitely miss writing here, but I am also glad that I had the chance to share all my special times here. I ho

Well, duh, it's my diary, after all. As I open it, the date was way back 20 years ago. It feels like a child wrote this. It's a sketch of a boy and a girl playing on the ground. I drew this using crayons. It's fascinating that the color didn't fade. I attempt to touch it, and after I gently rub the drawing, it begins a trigger when I blink. I see myself in a playground where all children play, they might be five o six years old, and it seems like pre-school.