Dear America The Diary Of Abigail Jane Stewart の小説・ストーリー

Dinner was the same as breakfast. She shuffled in the bed, trying to find the best position to sleep. It was hard to let sleep take over when millions of thoughts were going through her mind. She finally surrendered and walked up. She got her phone silently and sat back on the bed. She entered the sight Sima had sent her a week ago. Sima was her and her brother’s Indian friend. She was a sweet Indian woman in her mid thirties. They had met her in the library they go to every weekend and had been seeing her there every time. They gave her the nickname Simba. Sima had travelled back to her country a couple of days ago to visit her mother. She lived in America with her husband and children but

All he could do was sit on the throne, have feasts, and whore around—not a king, a nobody. Abigail. She was more than ten years younger than her husband and went out of her way to take care of herself. She had thick black hair, a rat-like face, even if a pretty one, a thin figure—but with all the necessary curves—and wore a magnificent blue dress the same color as her eyes. Inside, however, she was a venomous slut, like a parasitic ivy that attached itself to a person, draining them of their strength, and enveloping them in its deadly embrace—a sundew, a flytrap. Both stared at me with different expressions on their faces.

Thank you. I would love to hear from you guys in the comments and reviews, please. Let me know what you think and help me to get better. Thank you. I also want you to know that, as this story draws to a close, I already have more titles in the Street Diaries series in the work. Yeah, it's gonna be a series. Love you all.

Abigail embraces me, then pulls Layla into her arms and hugs her tightly, smiling as she says, “It's a pleasure to meet you, Layla; I am Abigail, Darius’s housekeeper. Where are these beautiful little girls Diana has told me so much about?” Abigail's blue eyes sparkle when she sees Ellie and Beth. Abigail is in her early fifties; she always wears her graying blonde hair in a bun on top of her head. Since I have known Abigail, she has always smelt like homemade chocolate chip cookies. I smile at Abigail before handing Ellie to her. The first thing Ellie does is try to take Abigail's glasses off her face; Abigail takes hold of Ellie's hand in hers and chuckles as she whispers,

Her hands started hitting her own chest. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. Diana quickly wiped her tears. "Yes?" "Grandma," Abigail poked her head through the door, "today's menu is sandwiches and chicken salad. Which would you like? Both?" Diana shook her head weakly. "I don't want to eat. Just have it for you guys." Abigail's brows suddenly furrowed. "How can you not eat? Wait a moment. I'll take both of them." "I said I don't want to eat! Please don't force me."

Her voice was steady, but her heart was lost. *** Abigail danced her way to the pool cabana, feeling excited. Holding an apple in one hand and a book in the other, she was determined to make the most of her free time while her sister, Iris, was away. The incredible tunes from her headset fueled her energy, pushing her to explore a different kind of adventure. She was stuck at home, thanks to the silent war at school. Abigail was tired of virtual assignments and the monotony of video games; it was time to break free, even if just for a little while.

And the monster’s victory is so complete, it leaves you wondering if you’re reading the journal of the victim… or the secret, proud biography of the victor. Then, after a long pause, Adam lifted the diary again. His thumb brushed along the edge of the next page. “…Okay,” he whispered. And he opened the diary. ——— Episode 20 – Pool Party The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of chlorine and expensive perfume. Mason’s name was scrawled across the front in a looping, feminine hand. He slit it open with a thumb, his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the delicate stationery. Inside, on a cardstock the color of a summer sky, were the words:

I start to write, my hand moving quickly across the paper: "Dear Diary, Today is the day I decided to spend an entire day naked. I know it sounds crazy, but I just couldn't resist the urge. I'm going to do everything naked – watch TV, eat, clean the house, maybe even dance around a little. I'm not sure what possessed me to do this, but I'm excited to see where the day takes me. Wish me luck!"

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

Heaving out another sigh, Abigail placed the phone on her nightstand facing down and carried a passed out Joshua to his crib in Elizabeth’s room. Yet again, a day had come and ended as the clock struck five on the wall. Her stomach growled as she strolled to the kitchen, where her aunt, Debby, sat with a newspaper. “Anything interesting today?” Abigail asked, ducking her head in the fridge to grab some leftovers. “Nah,” Debby mumbled, closing the paper and throwing it against the counter. “Just more rich people stuff and crime.” “Then again, what’s new?” Abigail paused abruptly as she glanced at the paper. On the front page sat a picture of Theodore--smiling and looking as handsome as ever--