Diaries Aphmau Novels & Stories

He shook his head while staring at the empty pages. “It’s a diary.” Amy began. “I want you to write anything you can remember that happens everyday… It could be at home, it could be what happened at school. Just anything you can think of.” “Why?” Carl asked so innocently and Amy couldn’t help but kiss his cheeks. He was so cute. “Think of it as a way of talking to me, like you’re writing me letters. Because, I don’t wanna miss any moment that passes in your life.” She carefully explained.

" For all I know, it sounds fascinating. “Not the best. - Not so much. All those wonderful affairs with Aunt Maideh . The gossip and gossip, the way women worked to get what they wanted from men. Do you have a diary? “I have ten. I started collecting them when I was seven. She reached under the bedclothes and pulled out a leather-bound notebook. “It's weird that you tell me to write about my childhood. I was reading one of my journals right before you came in. Read it and tell me what you think.

I whispered. Meg nodded. The walls were empty. There wasn't a single picture in sight. Minutes turned into hours, and frustration threatened to consume us. Just as the doubt began to seep into the room, Meg's eyes landed on a small diary hidden beneath a stack of papers in a box. Her fingers, now trembling slightly, reached out and delicately retrieved it. "I think this is it," Meg whispered, her voice barely audible. "Come look at this." On the cover were the initials A.M. written in block letters. A.M. Alec McCain.

*Brief Introduction. *Book name: Dynamic Diary of Tee. *Author name: Omah Susan. *Dedication This book is dedicated to all my loyal fans so far who had in one way or the other encouraged me. *AL RIGHTS RESERVED ® No part of this book should be republished or uploaded in any other website nor app without the author's consent. Be warned. This story is partially a true life story as it is a book. Also, the names of the characters are randomly selected and is entirely out of the blues.

Harper looked so tired from everything she had faced that morning. “Why did you stop writing about Austin?” “Austin?” Alex opened the last page of the diary and shrugged his shoulders in resignation. “Why did you stop writing?” “I haven't written in that diary for a long time. I'm running out of time after having too many patients.” "Mommy!" “Goshh!” Harper sighed softly. “Wait a minute, darling.” "What happened?" “Leo doesn't want to get out of the bathtub. It's time for you to act. I'll wake Heidi and tell her to take a shower.”

With trembling hands, I approached it, my fingers brushing against the rough wood. With a creak, I lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Among the yellowed pages and faded photographs, my gaze landed on a leather-bound diary. It was weathered with time, its once vibrant cover now worn and aged. I knew instinctively that this diary held the answers we had been searching for.

For himself or Irena . Sage cleared his throat. He didn't want to think about it right now. She moved on and so did he. Or at least he will. As soon as he was no longer attached to those screens. Amanda comes and opens the curtains. "Did you see the article?" she asked, turning to look at him. "What? Why?" Why is Amanda so mysterious? She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a copy of the Diary and gave it to him. "It was published a few days ago. Return to page thirty-five. I am sure you will find it instructive."

"Yes, sir." Zacharie watched him write it down and the moment the pen left the screen of his tablet, his driver began to drive off. "Good." Zacharie mused. ~~ ~~ At the hospital, Amelie was busy going through the information she had gathered, making sure to commit every detail to memory. She had just finished studying the last bit of information and had leaned back against the chair to stretch her limbs, when the door to the conference room suddenly opened and Diana stepped in looking furious.

Maybe not everything, maybe not enough to ruin me yet—but enough to remind me how precarious all of this was. My steps home blurred, every face in the crowd suddenly suspect. My apartment felt less like shelter and more like glass walls waiting to be shattered. I dropped my bag on the table and pulled out my notebook, flipping through the pages. Names, dates, sensations scrawled in my messy hand. The evidence of everything I’d been. He was right. Diaries beg to be read. But maybe… maybe they can also be rewritten.

Toward him! I had never been to St. Calliope’s, but when you have the Internet, the maps and pictures do a great job at giving directions. Somehow I ended up in the school library at past nine. The halls were quiet, and the library was much larger than I had anticipated. Ancient diaries of hunters were always kept in plain sight as Mundanes do find the supernatural world boring. If only they knew. Comtesse D’Aubray. Who knew I'd find a page on her as quickly as I opened Hunter Salem's diary of the unknown.