Novel & Cerita Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Author

“Oh, you guys are not going to believe this. Our little spy is a massive freak.” I adjusted my posture, holding the diary up to the ambient light of the limo. “‘If he pushed me against the bookshelves, I wouldn’t even fight back,’” I read, my voice dripping with dark amusement. “‘I want him to take control. I want him to rip this stupid sweater off me. I can practically feel his hands gripping my thighs, bruising my skin, pushing his huge dick inside my tight and wet aching pussy while he whispers my name…’”

“We’ll see. I must say, I admire the loyalty act you’re putting on. Running back to St. Clair, begging to be useful, hiding behind his rules. But deep down you know your words—your truth—could shatter him more than any photograph ever could.” I swallowed, bile rising. He was right about one thing: words had weight. My notebook still sat on my desk at home, filled with the kind of detail that could burn Elysium down if it ever slipped into the wrong hands. Adrian leaned closer, his cologne too clean, too sharp. “You’ve already written most of the story, haven’t you? Maybe you think you’ll never publish. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself it’s just a diary now. But the thing about diaries…” His b

David's snoring in the bed beside me, oblivious to what had happened. His arm slung over the pillow where my head should be. But I'm here, in the dim glow of my phone screen, scribbling this out in my diary, because if I don't, it'll eat me alive. Today wasn't just a slip; it was a dive, headfirst into something I've been circling for months. Or years, if I'm honest. ***** At Zephyra Art Gallery, I didn't just let it happen. I started it. Me. Poppy. The good wife, the one who packs David's lunch with snacks, fruit and love notes. What the hell is wrong with me?

Meh, right? Then there was the diary. Meg’s diary. I’d found it by accident one day while cleaning. I didn’t read much, just a few lines, but they’ve stuck with me. She wrote about pain, about betrayal, about things that didn’t make sense at the time. She talked about how she wished she could just end her miserable omega existence and how she missed her best friend Jax and her world, Red was too weak.

Watching the road below the way she watched everything, with the particular patience of someone who had learned a long time ago that threats rarely announced themselves. Caelith sat on the edge of the bed and talked. She started from the beginning. The dreams. The feeling on the street that first Wednesday. The black car and the chemical cloth and the ritual room with the candles that didn't flicker. The stranger who appeared and disappeared and submitted her essay and left her on a bench on a road nobody used. Zara, the courtyard, the blood deal. The journal. The friend she called at midnight who knew things she shouldn't have known from footnotes.

he flipped again, multiple pages this time. “15/10/98 Dear Diary, I met this guy, I love… his name is Jade, Jade Ogr---” tears rolled down my eyes, he wasn’t letting me ready anything. “12/12/2000 Dear Diary, I’m blessed with a baby girl, a daughter, she’ll call me mom---” “Fuck you, let me see it…” it wasn’t forged at all, and even if it was, I didn’t want to believe otherwise. My eyes shedding tears, as many as possible, he closes it right in front of my eyes. “Do you… still not want it?”

With trembling hands, I approached it, my fingers brushing against the rough wood. With a creak, I lifted the lid, revealing a treasure trove of forgotten memories. Among the yellowed pages and faded photographs, my gaze landed on a leather-bound diary. It was weathered with time, its once vibrant cover now worn and aged. I knew instinctively that this diary held the answers we had been searching for.

Dear Diary, From the very first day I became a vampire, I hated my life and I always thought that God was punishing me for still choosing to work in the tavern even though he did not like it. I stayed in that empty cave alone with nowhere to go after leaving the town. During those lonely days it felt as if death would have been a better option, because there was nothing happy or interesting about life anymore. Until my sister, Dana found me. I call her my sister because from the very first day I met her, that is all she has been to me. She gave me a home with a nice big room, she gave me comfort, she gave me love, and she took me on so many wonderful adventures. It was on one of our adventur

Ronald just didn't want them to know it yet, he had everything planned for just the right moment. *In S.T.A.R Labs* Diana kept looking at the piece of paper, and she finally said," I have seen this paper before" "What?! Where?!", said Oliver. "It's a page from my diary!",said Diana. "Are you sure?!",asked Sam. Diana's cheek reddened as she said," Well, I write in it , everyday, so I am certain that this piece of paper is from my diary.My aunt had given it to me..... It has concealed writings, by which I mean.....that....you may write on this paper all you like, but you can conceal the main message! That's it! Light a fire!"

To give them the reaction they came for. Bianca steps forward angrily. “You bitch—” I catch her wrist. “Don’t.” “But, Angel—” “Please.” My voice is so quiet that even I barely hear it. I look down at the books scattered across the wet pavement. Then I see it. My diary. It lies beside them, its leather cover splashed with coffee. Everything inside me goes still—I can replace my hoodie. I can buy new textbooks. I can wash the coffee from my skin.