Diaries Aphmau Novels & Stories

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?

There were only a bed and a small cabinet. I went to the cabinet and opened it. There were couple of books inside, nothing special. “Vivian would never be interested in these books; I might as well throw them out.” I dumped them into the trash bag. Old cosmetics products, I threw those in the bag as well. Then a pink book appeared almost hidden behind everything. I took it and opened it. It was Aurora’s diary. First entry was the day we picked her up from the orphanage. “Dear Diary,

The craving for the ritual itself. The sauna had become less of a location and more of an identity. “That’s the dangerous part,” Chloe murmured. “When a fantasy stops feeling temporary.” She looked down at the diary again, her fingers resting against the worn cover. Then, after a long silence, Chloe slowly opened it once more and turned the page, preparing herself for the next confession waiting inside. _______ Episode 59 – The Whisper App The notification chimed on her phone with a sound like a tiny, digital bell. Sloane didn’t jump. She let it sit, glowing on the dark screen of her device, a single point of light in her minimalist, steel-and-onyx apartment.

I wish he could take me now… “Anna,” Mia whispered beside me, elbowing my arm. I blinked. “What is it?” “You’ve been staring for, like… five minutes.” I smirked, lowering my voice. “So?” Mia rolled her eyes. “So… that’s Professor Jeff. He’s your professor.” I shrugged, leaning forward slightly. “Exactly. And?” She shook her head. “You’re crazy.” I didn’t argue. I just watched him from the corner of my eye. Every step he took between the desks made my pulse spike. I could feel the blood rushing in my ears, the little flutter in my chest, the way my fingers tightened around my pen without me realizing it.

The file looked ordinary. Completely ordinary. Which was somehow alarming. Arthur noticed her expression. “Exactly.” “What?” Arthur slid the file toward her. “It appeared this morning.” Ama opened it. Inside was a collection of reports. Normal reports. Routine reports. Research proposals. Environmental studies. Urban development plans. Nothing unusual. Nothing impossible. Nothing supernatural. Gabriel frowned. “Am I missing something?” Arthur leaned back. “Read the author list.” Ama looked again. Then froze. Dozens of names filled the pages.

type gesture, and was about to take a swig, when Michael interrupted. “Whoa! Hold on, hold on!” He jumped into the center of our little circle, his hands clamped around several little test tubes, filled with a blue liquid. He began passing them out, and once everyone in our group had one, he continued, “I figured we’d all do a shot in honor of Danni’s 18th!” Danni looked at the vial in her hand questioningly. “What is it?” “It’s a blue kamikaze.” He replied. “Trust me, it’s good.” He flipped the top off of his with his thumb, and held it out, as he glanced around at the group. “Well?”

I needed to see Mikey, so I told Chuks to drive over to my school at Taiwo Avenue. The cabin was starting to kill me, it was empty and Kaz and his guys did not return. I kept thinking about how to do what I had to do throughout the night, rolling in my not-so-comfortable bed. The man was a corrupt politician, he was responsible for the misery of a lot of people. I said all these things in my mind to justify what I was about to do, it never really got old, trying to rationalize taking a person's life, no matter how much they deserved it. For someone who committed a lot of murders in his life, I really could not get past the guilt, it's a sort of punishment I placed upon myself. After a while,

I immediately knew that it was all Mireya's. "I will leave you to it," Adrian left me alone with the box filled with sketchbooks, drawings, diaries, and a lot of personal diaries. I took the first diary of 2008 as I stared at it. She has been writing in her diary since she was eight years old. I looked at the last diary 2022, the current year. Jan 2008 Hey Violet,

blah blah blah, but the therapist swore she could hear disother in every shit that the doctor spoke. philbert leaned tp his wife on the sick bed and kissed her forehead. he did not know that she was awake."im sorry i did this to you rylee. but i have to." He told her that he feared she saw too much. And too much was too dangerous. Montoya's diary. Dear montoya, youre not going to believe in anything again apart from the things you write and only when you come to your senses. Every single thing that happens to you, and every little thibg, you must put down. Do not forget to write them, once youre back into reality.

Shaking my head for being this distracted, i walked over to my desk and opened the top drawer. Diaries, notebooks and my year book stared at me from within the top drawer and i was hit by a sudden wave of emotions. Reaching in, i picked out the first Diary on top of may. The cover looked old and the corners were starting to rip. The last day i wrote on my last Diary was after i started therapy with Dr. Goodman. Saying and then writing the same thing over and over again was starting to lose its appeal so, I'd stopped. Smiling a bit, i placed the Diary on the desk, knowing i wouldn't leave it behind. I took a deep breath of heavily perfumed air and looked back into the drawer. Not reaching for