Diary Of An Oxygen Thief Novels & Stories

As time passed, Zac got used to the treatments and stopped crying, so they weren't satisfied. When the camera wasn't pointed at them, they pinched him to make him sob louder. Meanwhile, I hid in a hotel far away, watching everything unfold as I compiled the evidence I had. They had forgotten something: Back then, to monitor Zac's homework, they had asked me to buy a small camera online and install it in the living room corner. That day's confrontation—the whole ugly scene—had been recorded. I compiled the footage, added subtitles so everything was clear, and posted it online.

"Dear Diary, Today is the day I decided to spend an entire day naked. I know it sounds crazy, but I just couldn't resist the urge. I'm going to do everything naked – watch TV, eat, clean the house, maybe even dance around a little. I'm not sure what possessed me to do this, but I'm excited to see where the day takes me. Wish me luck!" With that, I set the diary aside and stand up, taking a deep breath. It's now or never, I think to myself. I make my way back to the living room, my bare feet padding softly against the hardwood floor. I plop down on the couch, feeling the cool leather against my naked skin. I grab the remote and start flipping through the channels again, this time without a st

“But it tells you where the bones are buried.” Silence settled. “He’s not just forcefully taking what he thinks I owe him in Naples, he also wanted to see how I think,” I continued. “How I grow. How do I protect? That warehouse wasn’t a vault. It was a diary.” “And diaries,” Diego muttered, “aren’t meant to be read.” I looked at Milo. “Any trace?” “None,” he said. “No alarms. No internal damage. No deletions. They copied everything and left.”

It was a double-drawer compartment under the floor of his study. "Oscar's study! There's a double-drawer in the floor!" Olivia exclaimed. David and Olivia immediately rushed to Oscar's study. David pushed aside the heavy carpet and quickly located the mechanism to open the hidden compartment. Inside, they found several neatly folded documents, a small flash drive, and most surprisingly, an old diary belonging to Oscar. Olivia took the diary with trembling hands. On the first page, written in bold, was:

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.

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

~Rose~ I had woken up to an empty apartment, still wearing my clothes from yesterday. I was stadning by the window with a cup of coffee in my hands, looking out over the city. The people were moving around beneath me, going to their destinations, and some, wondering what their destination was. How did my life take this turn? How did I go from making a living by stealing from people, to signing a contract, giving myself to a cold-hearted, gazilionare-CEO?

I had my journal in my hand, somehow I felt a new need to hold on to it everywhere I went. I was with Damien, though I was bruised all over, it was easy to hide the pain. Besides, I was used to being flogged. We were talking about something that made me laugh so hard. It was actually a comedy skit we watched. I almost lost balance, my journal scattered on the ground. I was embarrassed, more embarrassed because the name "Annabelle Steele" was written boldly on its front page.

UNKNOWN POV DEAR DIARY, She grows beautiful each and every passing day. It was just yesterday she was a child, and now she has tits and curves in all the right places. I stare at her through this broken mirror, I see her every step, her every move… I feel pain when she’s happy, and I relish in the joy her sadness brings me. She is mine, Diary. Mineee! Oh, it won’t be long now…