Diary Of Jane Meaning Novels & Stories

Jack asked. Dianna looked up from the under-bench cupboard to where Jack was standing, leafing through her art journal. “Um, yeah,” she said. She should feel embarrassed, but she didn’t. She was proud of her work. No, it would never hang in a gallery, but that wasn’t why she drew. The journal Jack was currently looking through was her concept journal for Paper Gate. The characters and scenes had changed a lot from concept to final production, but it didn’t diminish those early drawings at all.

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 kind you’d expect from a bored, spoiled girl. But then on the fifth page of one of the older journals—I found something. Something that sent a chill down my spine. “Dear diary, Today is March, 2012. I will see him again. I’ve only seen him once before, but he’s the kind of person I know I can’t be with. I’m writing this down so maybe one day I’ll remember because I forget things so easily. Oh, I forget things so easily. But the one thing I can’t forget… are his eyes.

I saw Ma jane sitting at the edge of her bed, with her hands clasped tightly in her lap “Ma Jane.. am sorry” I stuttered “I read your diary and thought this was the right approach” She looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears “Avery.. am fine. You don't need to worry about me” “Ma Jane” I called out gently and moved to sit closer to her, wrapping her hands in mine “Am sorry” “You don't need to apologize dear. It's nothing” she said, staring directly into my eyes “Child sometimes it's better to let things be. Am happy being an important part of your life and that's enough for me. If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone” Ma Jane said, clearly heartbroken.

Jax pov I creep quietly in the darkness of the wealthy widow's estate. The moon shines at late night, casting its rays on the expansive garden. My heart races as I search for guards. My name is Jax, and I'm a thief looking for quick cash. The widow is currently unmarried, or so I think. Her husband died rich, and the estate is full of riches. I slip between the tall fence and proceed towards the back door. The lock is simple. I open it with my tools and push the door in softly. Silent in there.

Adam closed the diary slowly, his thumb still pressed between the pages as if he hadn’t fully decided whether to let the story go. For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the worn cover. “Damn, Mark…” he muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, not shocked exactly but unsettled in a way that lingered. This wasn’t just some wild fantasy written for effect. It read as something lived. Something processed after the fact. And that made it heavier.

Zane laughed, catching it easily. "See? Teamwork." Ryan exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Why did I even agree to live with you..." Zane Smiled lightly for that, getting up at last.He began picking up things randomly, opening boxes without care. As they sorted through bags and boxes, Zane's eyes suddenly fell on something. A diary. Something about it instantly caught his attention. Without thinking much, he picked it up and slowly opened it. The very first page made his breath hitch.

Damien Cross looked up from the stack of papers, his dark brows pulling together in that serious way that always got me going. He was older, mid-thirties, with a sharp jawline and those broad shoulders straining against his button-down shirt. “Lila, you’re my brightest student, but you keep pushing this angle. Forbidden doesn’t make it right. It just makes the consequences messier.” His voice was low and rough, like he was trying to stay professional but failing a little more each week. I smiled, crossing my legs slowly so the fabric whispered against my skin. “Messy is the fun part. Take Anna Karenina.

He chuckles low and mocking while steeping closer as the scent of his cologne hits me— musky, masculine and I swear my pussy twitches. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But we both know who's really close here.” Brian stance shifts and I can’t stop staring at the way his pants hug his thighs. Fuck, is that a bulge? No, stop it, Jane. This is ridiculous. I hate this feeling and this betrayal from my own body. “Don’t call me sweetheart,” I snap, grabbing my folder and turning my heel. “We’re done here.” I stormed out while my face was burning and my pulse racing.

When he got there it was almost late, he was the last to get in the car. He sat down beside a girl but paid little to no attention to her. He opened up his diary and started writing. "Is that a diary? I have one too." A soft girly voice asked it was the girl beside him. He looked up and she was in the same uniform as he was. She was so beautiful he couldn't make himself answer her question. He just kept staring with his mouth half-open. "Is something wrong with my uniform? I just got it. It's my first day, you see?" She said with a smile.