Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Romane & Geschichten

" I lowered my gaze to the card again. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was looking for answers that didn't exist. Ryder had already told me. I talked too much. I slept. That was it. Still... I couldn't bring myself to throw the card away. Instead, I walked toward my bookshelf and pulled out the leather-bound diary I had kept since I was sixteen. Between pages filled with old memories, pressed flowers, random sketches, and thoughts I'd never shared with anyone... I carefully slipped the black key card inside. Closed the diary. Then slid it back into its place. Hidden.

I shrieked, the towel clutched tighter to my chest. He turned slowly, a book in his hand. My stomach dropped. It wasn’t just a book. It was my diary. The one with the cheap floral cover, the one I’d hidden beneath a pile of sweaters in my bottom drawer. I took it out last night and forgot to return it back there. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked from my face to the diary, then back again. A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips.

“What mai—” The words died as I followed her gaze. A plain brown envelope lay beside her boot. My brows snapped together. “Who the hell dropped this?” I muttered, crouching to snatch it up. We never got mail. Not bills, not flyers, nothing. Wrong house, I almost decided until I flipped it over and saw the two words scrawled in precise black ink across the front: To Little Thief. My heart did a sickening flip. Little Thief. Only one person had ever called me that.

I growle, shoving him hard against the glass wall until he gasps for air. Vance slumps against the glass, defeated and shaking, leaving the dropped journal lying wide open in the mud between our boots. I release his collar with a disgusted flick of my wrist, letting him slide down onto the gravel while my attention snaps downward toward the exposed pages of the fallen book. The dim moonlight filters through the greenhouse roof, illuminating the familiar, precise handwriting scrawled across the open paper entries. My breath catches sharply in my throat as I recognize the unmistakable script immediately, realizing it does not belong to any faculty member or council archivist. I drop to one kne

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.

I was supposed to be nothing more than a doomed side character in someone else's story. After I woke up to the truth, though, I became the male lead's best friend instead—and ended up with the wealthy girl who had always loved him, leaving him free to live happily ever after with the school's golden girl. Ten years later, though, he made a very public announcement that he was single and back in town. Then, in the old class group chat that had been inactive for a long time, he sent two messages. [I'm back. We should all get together sometime.] [@Whitney Charlton, you'll be there, right?] The group chat exploded instantly. After all, everyone still remembered the golden boy we had known b

“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.

Two years ago, my older sister Jaslyn and I were trapped in a housefire. The firefighters told Mom she had to make a choice. They could only save one of us. Mom chose me because I was closer to the door. Later, when she learned that the fire had been caused by us breaking into the neighbor's house to steal stuff, she grabbed me by the hair and yelled at me. "Your sister Jaslyn was a model student. There's no way she would steal anything. "You're the thief! If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have died!" From then on, I wasn't allowed to eat good food or wear nice clothes. Every day, I had to kneel before Jaslyn's portrait and atone for my sins. One day, the class fund went missing at

The floorboard creaked under my foot like it had been waiting years to give up its secret. I froze in my mother's empty bedroom, dust motes swirling in the thin shaft of light from the shuttered window. The estate was still locked down tight after last night's chaos, but I could not sit still any longer. Answers about the heist that ruined my family had to be here somewhere. I dropped to my knees and pried at the loose board with trembling fingers. It lifted easier than expected. My heart slammed against my ribs as I reached into the dark space below. My hand closed around a worn leather diary, its edges cracked and faded. I pulled it out, flipping it open to the first page. Father's handwri

He mused. It was understandable that it might belong to Zoriana, Liam's girlfriend. But what Owen couldn't understand was how it happened to be in Liam's custody, afterall people keep diaries for their own personal interest, to keep their secrets and he didn't think Zori would keep a diary if she had wanted the world to know what's in it. Not restraining himself any longer, he flip over to the next page and while reading through, he got stunned on discovering its content. DEAR Future Husband,