Novel & Cerita Diary Of The Oxygen Theif

🖱️Victor🖱️ The diary sat in my hand like it was alive, breathing, watching me, judging me, and the blue fire wrapped around my fingers didn’t burn anymore, it just existed like it belonged there, like it had always been waiting for me to notice it. I stared at it for a long time, longer than I should have, my thoughts drifting somewhere I had been trying very hard not to go. Jayden.

But, The ones above were harder to reach, forcing me to stretch, my fingers roaming blindly across the upper shelves. Suddenly, something solid brushed against my fingertips. Frowning, I pulled it free. It fell to the floor with a soft thud. A black diary falls right at my feet. Frowning, I picked it up out of curiosity. Its leather cover was worn, its pages yellowed with age. My heart skipped as I picked it up, and curiously opened to the first page... A date stared back at me— it was 27th August, 2005. “A twenty year old diary in the bathroom cabinet? What the hell?”

She set it on the ottoman and opened the latch. The lock was broken. Her breath caught in her throat. “No. No, no—” she whispered. The box was empty. Her diary was gone. Her most intimate confessions, written in the rawest moments of pain and hope. Every twisted memory from Russia. Every wound Cynthia left on her skin and soul. Every moment of self-loathing, every hesitant word about Damian… even that one vivid entry—the night she gave herself to him, trembling, finally feeling safe. All of it. Gone.

" 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 pulled it out. It was a black diary with worn edges. Two initials were pressed into the front in faded gold. K.C. My breath stopped for a second. Astra moved closer inside me. Her voice became softer, almost pleased. “The mother-wolf’s scent is here. Deep and sad.” Kathy Constantine. I opened the first page, but before I could read, a sound came from the door. Metal shifted. My head snapped up. Suddenly, someone turned the lock from the outside.

"Or is that just what you told yourself so you wouldn't feel like a thief every time you stole my notes for your quarterly reports?" Daniel’s face went from red to a sickly white. His eyes darted to the door, then back to me. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Of course you don't. That’s the problem with the medicine you gave me, Daniel. It made me forget things. But it didn't make the journals go away. And it didn't make me stupid." I turned the tablet around. On the screen was a side-by-side comparison of his "breakthrough" strategy from 2023 and my handwritten diary from 2022. "Alexander was very interested in the dates. He’s big on intellectual property."

My throat burned. I grabbed a half-filled bottle of water I had left on my desk and gulped it down at once. The feeling came again, rumbling down in my stomach. I couldn’t tell if this was pregnancy-induced or the pool of blood that kept flashing back to my mind. I got to the bathroom before I let it out. The sink was covered in my puke. I ran water over my face. I dragged in air slowly as I walked back to the office. A diary caught my eye as I packed every file and document back into the drawers. Pink colored thick-covered diary. This must have belonged to Victoria.

My pulse hammered even faster as I leaned forward in my seat. Could this be connected to that dream I had earlier? The next entry was shorter, much shorter. It was only three lines, but those three lines… they were just enough; Felix Whitmore His name is Felix Whitmore, and I think I’m in trouble. My breath stopped as the car suddenly disappeared, the road disappeared….hell, everything disappeared with it. All I could see were the words. Felix Whitmore, and I think I’m in trouble. The next page made it even worse because there was a pressed movie ticket taped into the diary. Beside it was a photograph, a blurry Polaroid selfie.

The first page was blank and a sigh left her lips, but her heart resumed its marathon again as she reached forward to the next page. " Hey, I'm Nora. Nora Luke and I'm an omega. My father is the lake pack former beta and one of the unlucky she-wolf out there. If you come across this diary, note that it's my personal property and I'll expect you to respect my privacy because it holds my secrets and feelings,"

Jessup’s face. Kenny Greenleigh and Michael Bishop had his backpack and were rooting through it. “Hey, look, it’s the fucker’s diary,” Michael Bishop exclaimed. “No…” Jaxsen didn’t mean to vocalize the protest, but he did, and Billy Jessup heard. His sneer turned into something altogether darker. It was clear to Jaxsen at that moment, when he turned, snatching the precious book from his comrades’ hands, that this would be his undoing. Billy Jessup began shredding the journal. Page by page. Words of moratorium stuck in his gut as the sound of ripping pages morphed into his mother’s screaming before the abrupt cut-off that signaled the end of her line. Once he’d eviscerated the pages from the