Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Author Mga Nobela at Kwento

It was as if the world outside had disappeared in a blanket of ink. Her body felt heavy, and she decided to sit on the bed. It was pretty soft, and it was nothing like she'd ever been on. She opened the drawer and saw a small, leatherbound journal with the name Dorothy Stein on it. Carefully, she opened the peeling leather covers and read the first entry, which was miraculously legible.

The book he, her old bestie had bought for her. It was a simple gift for her 14th birthday, 10 years ago. It was the last birthday he had spent with her. Or rather, the last day. He left her a small note that she noticed a few hours after his family had left. They were celebrating her birthday with her family as they were like one family. Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from.

Nora reached into the deep pocket of her apron, pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook with frayed edges, and handed it to me with trembling fingers. "I found this accidentally while cleaning the maids' quarters," Nora whispered, leaning in close. "It's Tessa's personal diary. She hid it under her mattress frame. Luna, she wrote down everything, the dates she met Dr. Vance's apprentice, how much Lady Bianca paid her, even how they planned to execute the blood swap on the Capital Board team!" I took the small book, flipping through the handwritten pages under the narrow beam of moonlight. The entries were meticulous, detailed, and utterly damning.

The first page was blank and a sigh left her lips, but her heart resumed its marathon again as she reached forward to the next page. " Hey, I'm Nora. Nora Luke and I'm an omega. My father is the lake pack former beta and one of the unlucky she-wolf out there. If you come across this diary, note that it's my personal property and I'll expect you to respect my privacy because it holds my secrets and feelings,"

I spun around in the black desk chair watching as the white walls mixed with the blur of my Colton Dixon poster and the purple of my roommates tapestry. I stopped myself staring back down at the bright pink diary laying flat on the dark wood of the desk. My mother had gotten it for me as a going away gift to "reflect on my choices while away at college" but I don't think we have the same idea of what good and bad decisions are anymore. I opened the cover revealing the thin gray lines running down the first page and grabbed a pen from the cup on the left hand side of the desk.

I had forgotten all about that book, it had fallen out yesterday night from the top of Phobos's cupboard when I had mopped his chamber floors but I had no time to look into its contents so I thrust it into the box hoping to be able to read it later. I lift my hand to him indirectly demanding for it and he directly gives it to me. A deep inward breath I take in as my heart pounds vigorously in suspicion of what I might see. I know it is wrong of me to wish to invade his privacy this way but this is the diary I was determined to steal when I was eight. The pad of my thumb tenderly skims across the leather covering as memories of our childhood ignite to life within my mind.

She did not dare to ask us anymore. *** Dear Diary, All is happening according to my plan and it gives me happiness. I really think I should celebrate my little success. I know, I still have more things to do but my first plan happened well and I think I deserve to celebrate, alone. I do not need someone’s accompaniment since I have done all of this alone. No one knows about my plan. It’s only me and you, my dearest diary. You will know all of my success because you are part o it. You know me well and if you could have a life, I know, you will be happy for me too. If I die, I'll ask my parents to bury you with me and do not dare to open you. I’m anxious that they will know my secret. I wrote

But now I could see the torment in his eyes. He ran a hand through his curls and sat down slowly, motioning for me to do the same. There was a small fire burning in a metal bowl on the table. Beside it, a leather-bound journal sat, its pages partially torn. “I didn’t know who else to call,” he began. “You’re the only person I trust now.” I didn’t speak. I only nodded, urging him to speak on. By now, I was restless, the air around us was tensed.

🖱️Victor🖱️ The diary sat in my hand like it was alive, breathing, watching me, judging me, and the blue fire wrapped around my fingers didn’t burn anymore, it just existed like it belonged there, like it had always been waiting for me to notice it. I stared at it for a long time, longer than I should have, my thoughts drifting somewhere I had been trying very hard not to go. Jayden.

my head is still filled with this insane images and I didn't need some boy problems now the locker room was empty when I got there, perfect just what I needed , silence. I sat down slowly, my hands trembling slightly as I opened my bag. the diary was still there, staring at the cover, the bright colors, the stickers filled it front and back, the pink, purple, blue, white, red, all the fucking colors you can think of, it was her, literally and metaphorically her, it was supposed to be filled with adventures and names of friends but instead it corrupted with one persons name, it's so sickening how someone turned something so bright to something so dark, my hands tightens around the book , tear