Diary Buku Novels & Stories

My mouthwatering from the site. Walking back over to me, Angela hands me the book. It was black. Soft leather with nothing on the cover to signal what it was. Explaining to me that it was a diary. Before explaining to me that I should write down everything that goes on with me, so I don't have to bottle up my feelings.

she asks, looking at Occisor. "It's a diary, darling," Mary answers even though the question was not addressed to her. "In it you will be able to write anything, a random thought, a feeling that you do not want anyone else to know, what happens to you in your daily life, or else, write about your past and what it means to you. In short, it is a small book where you decide its content and no one but you will read it." "That's amazing," Sasha smoothes the cover of the notebook, "Putting what I think in words is certainly wonderful, but..."

The first image nearly knocks the air out of my lungs. A woman. Beautiful. Fierce. Eyes sharp with intelligence and sorrow. Blue fire dancing effortlessly in her hands like it belongs there. And in her arms. A baby. My breath goes shallow. That is not a legend. That is a memory. I turn the page. And freeze. This is not a history book. It’s a diary. Handwritten entries. Personal notes. Dates. Emotions bleeding through ink. Why would a woman’s diary be locked away in the forbidden section of the academy library.

Something about those words pulls me in closer, and before I can stop myself, I step inside the section. Unlike the other shelves, these ones are not filled with thick books. Instead, I see journals, photo albums, records, and many leather-bound diaries lined up neatly. My hand slowly reaches for the closest one. I do not know why, but it feels like the right thing to do. The diary looks very old. Its leather cover is worn and faded from many years of useage. I open it carefully. The moment I turn to the first page, something falls out. It is a photograph, and I gasp softly in surprise.

I don't need anyone's permission, that's it. I turned the first page and started reading it: "Dear diary, Hi... This is me Ivana. Ivana Williams, sixteen now. I bought you with the money I earned from the first ever salary I got in my life from tutions. You're not only a diary, but also now my friend after Miya.

"You could say that." I didn't appreciate his cryptic reply. "You found me, so obviously you already know the answer. How did you find me, by the way?" His lips curled up, satisfaction, back on his face. He walked around his desk and opened the top drawer. When he pulled out a small leather bound book, I inhaled sharply -it was my diary! My journal where I wrote all of my nonsense, little girl thoughts and where I drew picture after picture, all things I found beautiful. He must have salvaged it from the fire.

I am just afraid to read the content inside, and I told her I would take It home and read it when I'm a bit calm and less nervous, but up until now, I'm still hella nervous to open it up. I silently breathed in and out, letting my shoulder relax, my hand reached for the diary and I stared at it for a while, I closed my eyes and breathed out as I unzipped the book, which had a zipper on it, Remi never kept a diary when we were in Texas, I am not sure what prompted her to start doing so. I opened the diary and swiped to the first page, a smile spread across my lips as I read the first paragraph. "Dear Diary, I hope you keep my little secrets safe."

He’s a warning. Adam closes the diary halfway, tapping his finger lightly against the cover like he’s still thinking… then slowly opens it again, curiosity pulling her forward… Alright… Next one.

I flipped the page of my notebook, leaning down to grab my textbook from the door beside my chair. And that’s when the idea struck. Slowly, deliberately, I let the book slip from my fingers. It hit the floor with a soft thud. “Oh—" I bent down immediately to pick it up and the classroom suddenly felt very quiet. Very still. I didn’t rush. Instead, I took my time reaching for the book, my skirt shifting slightly as I moved. A risky move. A deliberate move. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then— Jeff cleared his throat sharply.

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.