Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Author Novels & Stories

He didn’t say much—just nodded when Vittorio barked orders. I found a side room. Empty. Quiet. Inside, a dusty bookshelf. Half-burned candles. A fur blanket. And a drawer. I opened it. Inside was a leather-bound journal. Old. Worn. The name was scribbled in faded black ink across the first page. Inside: a diary. Fiorella. My stomach twisted. I curled into bed with it. Lit the lamp low. Opened the first page.

All while she, Almay, the one who raised her, clothed her, albeit barely, was rotting in a dump with a plastic kettle and expired canned food. It was not right. It was not fair. She reached deeper into the suitcase, fingers brushing against worn velvet. She pulled out a small, nondescript wooden box. Her breath hitched. Slowly, she opened it. Inside lay a faded leather-bound diary. The edges were frayed, the gold-embossed letters barely visible now, but they read: “Diamante Lunaria Hernandez.”

“You weren’t here – I looked. I called out, and you didn’t answer!” “Baby – calm down, ok?” David reached out to her, but she shook him off, glaring at me. Even Ben backed up, knowing this was strictly between us girls. I had to think fast. “Did you check the other stall?” I tossed out quickly. “I was feeling a little sick, thought I was going to throw up. Probably shouldn’t have downed that last screwdriver so fast – I’m sorry I couldn’t answer you.” Man, I hated lying. But what was I supposed to say? Oh, I was here the whole time, but the vampire made us invisible? Yeah – I’m not into padded rooms, thank you.

I took a deep breath inhaling all the dust that had been stagnating in the room. 'The watchman has become blind ', I thought as I decided to lock the door again when I noticed something. A diary. I walked in and picked it up. Pink I'm colour, had to be a girl's diary. I walked out with it turning off the lights and locking the door again. I opened it. This Diary belongs to Akansha Goenka. The first sentence I read after opening it in fine cursive handwriting. It belonged to Akansha. Not that bad either.

It’s from Jasmine this time. Sitting back at my favorite chair, I look at the diary on the table. I don’t know if I should be feeling scared or cautious but… mysteriously, I saw the odd book that I read at the library. The one that went missing. I tried finding it and it almost led me to entering one of the forbidden areas, which was the chained room. I remembered accusing Gavin for hiding corpses inside of that room.. But anyways, I saw it together with Diana’s diary… Now that I think about it, the book also has an engraved pen name on its leather cover. It was the initial D.M. that is also written in Diana's diary.

Naomi’s. My gut tightened. If it was here, she wasn’t. That meant trouble. I grabbed it, shoved it into my pocket, eyes already scanning the room for anything else useful. Then I spotted a leather-bound diary tossed on the bed. Maria’s handwriting carved across the cover in firm strokes. I flipped it open without thinking. Pages crammed with her thoughts, sharp and unfiltered: Pages filled with her thoughts. Words about me. "Darian’s eyes cut through me, making me feel alive."

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.

She is mine. It was all there. The diary started when I was a teenager. This arrogant, tyrannical Mafia boss, my sworn enemy, had been secretly, almost pathologically, obsessed with me for years, like a worshipper at a twisted shrine. Just as I was reeling, the study door opened. Lorenzo stood in the doorway, his eyes full of a deep, dark despair. "Back again? Stealing my secrets for that man?" He gave a hollow, bitter laugh, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Daisy, my patience has a—"

My throat burned. I grabbed a half-filled bottle of water I had left on my desk and gulped it down at once. The feeling came again, rumbling down in my stomach. I couldn’t tell if this was pregnancy-induced or the pool of blood that kept flashing back to my mind. I got to the bathroom before I let it out. The sink was covered in my puke. I ran water over my face. I dragged in air slowly as I walked back to the office. A diary caught my eye as I packed every file and document back into the drawers. Pink colored thick-covered diary. This must have belonged to Victoria.

A very elegant design covered the book cover and the words written on the first page filled my heart with nostalgia and longlines. "Personal diary of Aurora Sapphire Brown" Flipping through the pages of the diary at once my eyes saw how her handwriting changed from a kid to an adult...as the dates and years passed with a flip my hand stopped on her last entry ...... Date 27th Feb Time :2 am I can't sleep again ... The medicines are of no use when his eyes haunt my nights... Those cold eyes were again looking at me with hate... Hate is nothing new. I am used to it now...but his hate matters