Diary Buku Novels & Stories

I was about to see a time before the one I read. “A diary?” I ask, gingerly picking up the book. “No, a journal. And proof that every family is as fucked up as yours.”

Malia's heart skipped a beat as she opened the book, revealing page after page of handwritten notes. It was Bianca's diary. Malia's eyes scanned the first page and her heart broke as she read the words. Bianca had started writing in this diary when she discovered she had a brain tumor, a condition that could potentially erase all her memories. The thought sent a shiver down Malia's spine. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for her sister to live with that fear.

My first memoir in a new diary. My old diary was filled with stories and stories of girls I've fucked and turned but after this incident that happened on 23/4/2027 I had to start a new diary. So... I was angry that mum was remarrying. I really hate the thought that she couldn't keep her pussy at check after dad's death and jumped into another man's arms. However, she kept reassuring me that it's going to be fine but I hate it as hell.

"It's easy to see how someone could get pulled into that." Another glance at the name. "Still though," she muttered, a small smile returning, "Diary Chloe, you really didn't hold back, huh?" A beat. "...and now I have to sit here sharing a name with you." She closed the diary halfway this time, her thumb resting between the pages like she wasn't quite ready to leave it yet. "...this book is actually dangerous," she whispered to herself. Not because of what it showed but because of what it made her feel.

Maybe he had been using this and I just was too blind to see it. I put the book back trying to match where it had been hoping he wouldn’t think I was snooping. Turning back to the book shelves I looked further at the many diaries. It brought back memories of the one I had lost but maybe I could still gain something from some of the other ones. I pulled out one but it was written in some weird style. I opened the diary but the words were jumbled. They weren’t even human. What was going on with it? I flipped through page after page getting entranced with the very writing until the book was snatched from my hands.

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!"

"No. We should apologize instead." We held each other and broke down in tears. Leonard was still in a critical stage. Meanwhile, the content of his diary was published on the Internet. The diary recorded every moment we had spent together. I sat on the bench outside the ICU, and my phone kept vibrating. "Liv, have you seen the news? Leonard's diary has gone viral on the Internet!" "Oh my God! You guys had such great memories together!" "He loves you so much…" I tapped on my phone. The topic at the top of the trending list read, "high school memories of Leonard Burton."

"I understand, Perer. We are good friends. Aren't we?" "Yes, we are." "Good!" Henry acknowledged. "Now, tell me about this diary of yours you have been writing for almost a year now." “You want to hear all about it?” “Yeah! Tell me all about it.” "Well," I started, trying to bring my diary/book/memoir into a positive limelight, "the book I am writing is basically a diary. Inside it, are events of my life that I have recorded. Though, there are times I would like to see it as my memoir but I can't due to the nature of it. My book is not something you will see on every regular bookstore in the market. It is unique and addresses the reader in a way you have never seen before. I know you know it

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.

“Hello, I’m Mariana, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please don’t be mad at Marylin, she’s been nothing but an angel to me, if it weren’t for her, I’m not sure I would have been able to return home.” “No problem,” Dana said. “I can never be mad at her for helping you.” “Thank you!” Mariana went in again and returned shortly with a small book in her hand. She gave it to me and before I knew it, the little book began to expand and increase in size until it was just the right fit for me. It had the words ‘DIARY’ written in front of it. “It’s a magic diary,” she told me. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m going to have to refuse this, I could never keep track or even keep a diary.”