Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Novels & Stories

It was dark-brown in colour. I could remember the oven having a regulator which I used to argue with Chimezie, my elder brother that it was a wrist watch imbedded inside the cooker just like our Dad's wrist watches. It was later on that I learnt from Dad that it was a kind of timer like the watches. The explanation ended a series of arguments I usually had with my elder brother over the regulator.

She was duped once more about her devotion to the royal family. On the short break for the taping session, Terrence sat on the bench and picked his ballpen and notebook from his bag. He began to write sentences on the thing he was holding with dates and titles. It was his personal diary. He named it "Diary of a Billionaire's Son", since he was the heir to a billionaire's property. All events were put in there. His achievements, tragedies, and realities in life, including bad instances. No one ever read it, because it was his exclusive memorabilia written by himself as his daily routine.

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.

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,

She marvelled at her erratic heart beats and wondered if they would ever get normal in his presence. As she searched her bag for the comb, she found the small handpocket sized diary that she bought in a thrift store a long time back. She opened it and skimmed through the enty pages of the book when a crazy creative idea popped up. Smiling to herself, she picked a pen from the nearby table as she decided to write about all the beautiful memories she had with Ronan the previous day. This way, she can relive them whenever she wanted without missing out on even the smallest details. Excerpts from Anya's Diary:

He’s so easy to manipulate when he’s nostalgic. Day 12: She’s getting suspicious. I need to ramp up the symptoms. Fainting spell tomorrow? My hands shook as I turned the pages. It was all there. The calculation. The malice. But a diary could be dismissed as venting or fiction. Elise could claim she was writing a novel. I needed something physical. Something medical. I put the diary back and turned to the nightstand. The three pill bottles were there. Digoxin. Warfarin. Furosemide.

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.

Cold. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle a cough from the thick air. Carefully stepping back, my heel hit something. A shelf. A loud thud hit the floor behind me. “Damn it…” I muttered under my breath, fumbling to pull out my phone. I turned on the flashlight and aimed it toward the object. It was a book. Old. Worn. A diary. I bent down and picked it up. The name on the first page stopped my breath cold.