Diary Greg Novels & Stories

The hospital bill ate away most of my money, leaving me with nothing. I returned to the apartment Christopher and I had shared. The familiar sight reminded me of how we'd decorated the place and slowly turned it into the cozy nest we called home. Now, I could only think of it as a stinky pile of shit. I tore down the photos we'd covered a wall with and packed everything that had to do with him. The apartment immediately became much emptier. I tried calling Christopher to find that he'd already blocked me. If that were the case, I had no choice but to throw all of his things away. I headed downstairs dejectedly while dragging the bags of trash behind me. That was when I saw a Ferrari parked d

I said, "Sorry, wait a little. I am opening the door." Regina said, "Be fast." Where will I keep my Diary? I don't want Regina to know about my Diary. For the time being, I should keep My Diary under my pillow. As soon as I opened the door, Regina rushed inside the room. I asked her, "What are you doing?" Regina said, "Stop asking questions." I asked again, "What's this rush for?" Regina shouted, "Why the hell can't you understand that tonight is my last chance?"

“She was terrified, convinced no one would believe her. But once she realized Trent couldn’t hurt her anymore, it all came pouring out.” Cassie’s brows drew together. “I still remember the first time we saw that recording,” she said quietly. “It made my skin crawl.” “It should,” Cora said. “What he did was disgusting.” She looked down at her plate, then at Arden. “You really handled that whole thing with grace. Paying off that garbage disposal guy? That was kind.” Arden shrugged, his gaze distant. “He found Daria in that dump when nobody else was even looking. The least I could do was thank him.”

and for me to prove that I’m no longer the girl he can bully. I fished my diary entry and looked out of the window of my apartment. Some people might regard writing a diary as an old fashioned juvenile activity. But for me, it's a way to process my thoughts and emotions. I used to write a diary in school, but I lost it on the day of graduation. In a way, it was good; I was able to start fresh in my adult life without the weight of my past entries. I slipped into my bed and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was a big day. ********************************************************

He was sitting on a pile of yellow straw, leaning back against a wooden post. Greg was wearing loose, baggy cotton shorts. They were old and thin, almost like boxers. He sat with his legs spread wide, trying to catch a breeze. He didn't realize that the wide leg of his shorts was gaping open. Every time he shifted, his heavy, thick length was visible, hanging carelessly in the shadows of the fabric.

I stood under the old locust tree that hadn't changed in ten years, five cold metal boxes resting in my hands. At that moment, I felt like the biggest joke in the world. The wind picked up, stirring a few dry leaves across the ground. It cut straight through me, leaving a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Somewhere I never saw, another man had been fighting his own quiet war with a secret crush. And my fiancée, Natasha Rowe, had been carrying a regret she never once spoke out loud.

I had almost forgotten. "You know what," he continued, his voice carrying just slightly more than it needed to for a private conversation, "I've always wondered. Did you actually have any real training before Diana took you on? Because some of the reviews I read were kind, but the industry people I spoke to didn't quite feel the same way about your works." As Greg kept on talking, I found myself recalling the reason for Greg's beef with me. It had all begun two years ago... * * * London — Two Years Earlier

Hey there, my name is Jun. Typical youth about to graduate college. So... Every year, I do change my diary and so in my last diary, I told the last diary about how I was disvirgined. Now here, I'm eighteen. Just to recap with you about my life, I lived in a home with my mom, in a suburbia and my house was the second to the last on the block, which left an empty house next to ours, or well it was until about three months ago.

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.

Seeing his four-year-old little sweetheart in his mind was enough to steer him back onto the path which, he hoped, was the right one to embark on. The way his little girl clung onto his pants and shirt, hid behind him, and refused to speak whenever the subject was around should have alerted Greg, but it didn’t. And it made the duke feel even more idiotic that it didn’t. It should have. He was Greg Claw. Something as glaring as the pup’s aversion SHOULD have alerted him or - at the very least - made him suspicious. And Greg felt like he failed when he didn’t even instinctively feel that something was wrong.