Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Author Novels & Stories

Her diary. I felt around blindly, my fingers tracing the lines of an old, wooden chest. I found the catch and undid it. There, under a thin layer of dust, was a leather-bound book. Lira Mooncrest's diary. I grasped it firmly, a silent prayer on my lips. I caught the sound of a noise above me. The floorboards creaked. I remained motionless, my heart pounding in my chest. My name was spoken in a low, male voice, and then there were footsteps, slow and strained.

Her thighs trembled, the diary sliding to the floor, pages open and smeared with shaky ink. When she could finally breathe, she pulled the toy out, her body still quivering. She grabbed the diary with trembling hands, slammed it shut, and shoved it into her bag. “Never again,” she whispered to herself, cheeks burning. But she knew she was lying. --- The next afternoon, she sat in Professor Hayes’s office for her private session. The room smelled faintly of coffee and old books, his desk stacked with papers. He leaned against it while explaining a passage from Shakespeare, his deep voice filling the quiet space.

"No. We should apologize instead." We held each other and broke down in tears. Leonard was still in a critical stage. Meanwhile, the content of his diary was published on the Internet. The diary recorded every moment we had spent together. I sat on the bench outside the ICU, and my phone kept vibrating. "Liv, have you seen the news? Leonard's diary has gone viral on the Internet!" "Oh my God! You guys had such great memories together!" "He loves you so much…" I tapped on my phone. The topic at the top of the trending list read, "high school memories of Leonard Burton."

And there he was, Xavier, hoisting her up on his shoulders in her graduation gown, refusing to let her down. Her, clinging to his hair, half-laughing, half-scolding, "I like you, I like you, okay? Xavier, you're so boring!" Xavier, spinning her around, his laughter echoing under the camphor trees. Her screams of joy mixed with his. And then there was the diary. Tucked away in my office drawer. Filled with her thoughts, her dreams. And I, the man who supposedly mattered, wasn't even the protagonist. Yet, like a masochist, I’d memorized every single word.

However as I read on my heart started beating quickly once more. This document wasnt your typical one. It was a diary. The journal of Fiona. I felt my fingers shake as I turned the page and the words jumped out at me. I had a nagging feeling that I shouldnt be doing this that I shouldnt be reading these words and that dread was creeping under my skin. I couldnt stop though.

I blushed at his loving words. Moments later, Owen stormed into the room. He was all sweaty and out of breath. “Look what I found!” he said triumphantly, holding up an old journal. Then he realized I couldn’t see. “Oh, uh… It’s an old, worn journal. The leather binding is peeling off. It has pink flower stickers all over it,” he described. I recognized it instantly. “Oh yes, that’s Josie’s diary! She’s had it since she was a teenager. I often visited her at the orphanage after moving in with Owen’s family. She always kept it hidden in her sock drawer,” I said excitedly. “This should give us some answers!”

I muttered as I ran toward my chambers, driven by a strange pull, a gut feeling that something was there waiting for me. In my room, I scanned my surroundings, something drawing me to a concealed compartment behind my bookshelf. I opened it, finding a small, worn book—a diary. My heart sank as I opened it, the words inside telling a dark, familiar story. This wasn’t just any diary; this was Luna Nora’s collection of secrets, a meticulous record of every vile act, every betrayal. The curses, the deaths, the machinations that had torn my family apart—it was all here.

Enlightenment came when he warned me about the bloodsuckers; the girl, Lori, was more like Ingrid than Diana. Had they swapped places as part of some bizarre game? Deciding I had nothing to lose, I asked my new master. “Very astute of you to notice,” he said. “I’ll ask my mistress to lend you the diary. Jake was fascinated by it, though it’s a work of pure fiction.” “That’s not like him,” I muttered. “It’s a prurient fantasy concocted by Lori.” “I see.” He grinned wickedly. “No, you don’t. Some parts of it are true and some aren’t. What kind of diarist doesn’t bother to put details under dates?”

I was feeling scared and antsy. I opened the door and went inside . I ran upstairs and there was no sign of Max ; but I could smell his body wash . I took a deep breath and went back downstairs towards the part that was extended. I had never shown Max what I was doing , I never got around to doing it until I was done. I kept the room secret. I still felt bad about what I said at the Club yesterday. I walked towards the door and turned the knob gently and I stepped inside. I looked around and everything was as I left it except for the corner couch next to a window where I kept a couple of my old journals, and my baby diary. I had bought the diary for myself when I found out about the baby we

It is old but seems to be well cared for. “Diary? Who uses a diary now? ” I whispered to myself as I hurried to open it. I was not mistaken. It was indeed a diary. Stoney isn’t a pure stone at all. He’s a softie. Funny that there were still drawings around the notebook cover back then. This is really it. I can already feel the MMK-like story of Cormac. . . the story that will win us over to AFA 2020. The first entry in that diary came to me. It was dated sixteen years ago. March 21, 2004.