Diary Novels & Stories

MAYALINA May 14th 2018 I pick up the large sack of rubbish from the bar, fling it over my shoulder and wobble my weak butt to the back entrance where the large skip bins are. I walk through the halls and look into the rooms as I pass them by. All the doors are open except the room that used to be mine. Things have been really slow on our side of the wing lately. It's like we've all dispersed for our own painful reasons.

I think I need to buy more because what is happening is so exciting for me. In just one day, I use two pages just to tell what happened in my day and how I narrate about what happened when I killed one of my classmates. My diary is literally my friend. He knows a lot about me rathe than a person who doesn’t know even a single fact about me. Even my family does not know the real me. Dear Diary,

Instead, she shifted gears, asking, "What were you reading?" I snapped my fingers, and my journal reappeared in my hand. It was a treasured possession, filled with entries spanning the past 100 years. I had amassed a collection of these journals, each one a testament to my love of recording every detail of my life. I wrote about experiences, adventures, thoughts, plans, and ideas - nothing was left unrecorded.

When he got there it was almost late, he was the last to get in the car. He sat down beside a girl but paid little to no attention to her. He opened up his diary and started writing. "Is that a diary? I have one too." A soft girly voice asked it was the girl beside him. He looked up and she was in the same uniform as he was. She was so beautiful he couldn't make himself answer her question. He just kept staring with his mouth half-open. "Is something wrong with my uniform? I just got it. It's my first day, you see?" She said with a smile.

Azrael gasped. “Thank you, for standing up for me.” I thanked Azrael and he nodded, I, then opened the book, reading the first page. “05/08/90 Dear Diary, I’ve decided to write a journal from now on, it sounds cool to have your life written on the paper. Let’s work together… but I actually don’t have anything to say right now, I’ll come back tomorrow.” I snickered at my mother’s words, my eyes beginning to water and I sniff them back in.

and I'm still celebrating it alone like I did the previous year. Although , the weather looks good enough for my comfort today. But the wind has failed to take my pain away along with it.' He flipped through the many pages, and as he was about to close it up due to how much her words were piercing through his heart–The words in this diary were like a sharp edge of a dagger. As he was about to close it, his eyes fell on a particular date that gripped his attention. This date was a very special one to him , although he never showed that he really cared about it but it was. November 14, Strange Weather. ' It's strange, isn't it? I woke up with a groggy body toda

I tried to reach it after I bent down. My brows furrowed when I saw my old diary, it was so old and I almost forgot about this. Slowly wiping the dust that covers my diary, I keep shaking my head trying to remember what this is for. "I used to do something like this?" I asked myself and slowly sat down on my bed. This journal is covered with a black leather hardbound but full of batman stickers?! What the fuck? I keep on examining the diary until I decide to open it when a message greets my eyes.

I had my journal in my hand, somehow I felt a new need to hold on to it everywhere I went. I was with Damien, though I was bruised all over, it was easy to hide the pain. Besides, I was used to being flogged. We were talking about something that made me laugh so hard. It was actually a comedy skit we watched. I almost lost balance, my journal scattered on the ground. I was embarrassed, more embarrassed because the name "Annabelle Steele" was written boldly on its front page.

“Thank you.” “It’s all good.” She got up and went over to the counter kept at a corner. Bringing a notebook, she gave it to me. “I know that I can’t remember much after a few hours. Most days, I—I can’t even remember that I can’t. So, I started writing everything down as much as I could. I want you to take this.” I took the pink diary and flipped through the pages—it was at least fifty pages, all filled completely. “But, uh,” I chuckled. “Isn’t this kind of personal?”

I can’t wait to run to my room and talk to my confidant and best friend,Diary. Dear Diary, Today I felt alive.I never quite understood somethings people do that totally put their lives at risk,never desired the fast life.Now I completely understand.Flying though that field,my mind void of every other thing was wondrous.I might actually be getting an adrenaline addiction with just two exposures.Thing is though,I don’t think I would be able to run as fast with nothing to get out of mind.I think I would be ordinary if I was carefree.The I need all my anxiety,insecurities and doubts to push me across the finish line.