Diary Of A Wimpy Kid Novels & Stories

The door opens up and the principal walks in with a boy I've never seen before. It's a tall muscular boy with shoulder length blond hair tied in a low ponytail. He looks really pretty. I don't think I've ever seen him at our school before. There aren't many students or teachers here and I'm pretty sure I know each and every one of them by face. Is he new here? That would be weird, transferring so late into the school year. But if he's here, that means he's a witch. Is he transferring from another witch academy or a normal human high school?

I said. “That and also maybe you don’t want your classmates to think you are weird” he questioned. “They already know that” I said. God I hate this guy. He turned his head and asked “What where you doing in the woods in the first place?” “I write” I said, not want to answer any further. “Oh yes your diary” he said smiling. “You read it?” I asked. “Yes, it’s not every day you find a diary in the woods” He said as if it’s a good thing.

The letters sitting side by side made each sentence which gave me shock after shocks. "Dear diary, I know I had said that you are my only friend but today I found another one. He is so cute and chubby and he didn't mock me for my stuttering. He was like me without any friends. He said he will be my best friend so I named him chubby bro. He also gave me a cute name, a little doll. I'm so happy, finally I have a friend, a best friend. I don't think I'll need you again dear diary because now I have someone to play with. From now on I'll write about what me and my chubby bro did."

Whitmore stands gaping at my diary. "Oh, wow! I didn't know you were a fan of Miss.OG, Ms. Sanders." He said turning the pages and reading my oh-so-difficulty collected handiwork. I sighed in relief. Good, the jerk hasn't figured it out yet. So I decided to play along. "Yes Sir. I'm a really big fan of hers. Well, you know hormonal teenagers, exam and college stress and all that..." I trailed off, laughing nervously. He frowned, thinking. And I took the opportunity to grab a hold of my diary and make a run for it. I snatched the diary from his hands and turned tail.

I wave him goodbye, he checks his noodle hair in the mirror and leaves. There is not much work. There is never much work. I sit in front of the laptop and check my F******k account. F******k is boring when you’re dating the prettiest girl there will ever be. I don’t want to, but I still end up doing what I’ve been avoiding since morning. I fetch the diary from my drawer and open it. RD.

Everything that she hadn't told me or she couldn't have the chance to show. I sat on the bed beside her and opened it. I wasn't ready actually for what I saw. The first page had her name, written in a toddler's handwriting with crayons. Undoubtedly, she wrote it. The diary itself looked so old. The first few pages were filled with her childish demands like "Why do we need to study?" "I hate school" "The math teacher is a witch" "The principal is also a witch. She scolded me because I broke that stupid girl's nose. She was bullying me. I want to break her legs too"

"It has been a long fairly self-sufficient journey, Henry, and I wasn't sure I was going to last with this book considering my level of education, knowledge of words and sentence construction. To be honest, I have thought of throwing this book away and not completing it but I can't because it is my life's work. I find myself telling stories on days when I have nothing to write about and I am not sure if the stories I tell are amazing stories or just a piece of shit that people are going to struggle to read. But, my entire life's work lies in what I am writing. I know it doesn't sound decent for me to call it my life work since I have been writing it in less than a year but I have to admit, I

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.

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,

Sinclair chimed in, approving of every word that left Claire's mouth. Without even looking at them, I knew they formed the picture-perfect definition of a happy family. The sounds were so... domestic. I held tightly onto a book I had grabbed from the room's closet. It was covered in dust, but it had caught my eye. Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I remembered seeing books like this growing up, but I had never gotten to read the series. I had lost interest in childhood novelties back then, completely consumed by trying to win over a family that would eventually orchestrate my death.