Diary Buku Novels & Stories

It was bound in dark red leather, the surface cracked and worn, stamped with the private seal of the late King. My breath caught in my throat. I pulled the book out and brought it over to the stone table where Jiji had the lamp. "Did you find it?" Jiji asked, leaning over my shoulder. "It's his personal diary," I whispered, my fingers carefully turning the brittle, yellowed pages.

I found a few notes of cash so I took out a few notes from that drawer. When I was getting money from the drawer something fell on the ground. I bent down and picked up the book from the ground. I saw that it was a diary. I opened the diary. On the first page, it was written that it solely belongs to Aaron Malhotra. Whoever reads this diary without its owner's permission will face severe consequences... I kept the diary on the bed and gave money to the maid. I told her to bring me 2-3 packets of sanitary pads.

and I can't help myself. **** We read through his diary or whatever he called it. And learnt some shocking details. Russell was sick and the entries that he had written down were all about me and those killed. Where he made it seem as if we were dating, and part take in some very detailed activities. He went as far as making it out as if I was the one that was crazy and stalking him. "We should get rid of these." Felix said. "Wait." I took the book from him and read something that caught my eye, then laughed.

But today, something had drawn him in, a need to connect with the person he had lost so tragically. As he rummaged through his brother's belongings, his fingers brushed against a leather-bound book hidden beneath a stack of papers. He hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, recognizing it as his brother’s diary. The worn cover and frayed edges showed signs of frequent use, a testament to the secrets and thoughts it held within. Damon’s heart clenched as he opened the diary, the pages filled with his brother’s handwriting staring back at him. It felt like he was about to intrude on something deeply personal, but his need to understand, to know what his brother had been going through, ov

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."

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

My diary helped me grow personally and captured events that passed by instantly. I desiderated to pen down everything that day. I wanted my diary to have all the precious moments inked in that. That day I experienced things that I could not share with anybody. As I had no one with whom I could do so. I wanted to write whatever I felt like, freely and without outside judgment or criticism.

I walked over and picked it up and Adrian made a noise like he was going to stop me but I opened it anyway. The first page had Sophia's name and a date from three years ago and the pages were filled with her handwriting, paragraphs of tiny neat words. "This is her diary," I said. "That's not—" Adrian stopped. "I thought that was a work journal." "It's her diary." I flipped through and saw they were all dated, all personal entries about her life and thoughts. I turned to the last entry and my blood went cold when I saw the date. The day before she died.

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

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.