Novel & Cerita Diaryofawimpykid Books

Caitlin sat in her large room in Dunvegan in Castle at a writing desk, looking out the window at the sunset sky. She examined the torn page McCleod had given her, holding it up to the light. She slowly ran her fingertips along the embossed, Latin letters. They looked and felt ancient. The entire page was so beautifully and intricately designed, and she marveled at the intricate colors along the paper’s edges. Back then, she realized, books were made to be works of art in and of themselves.

It terrified her. Another loud buzzer sounded and she shuffled her way, with hundreds of kids, towards the entrance. She was jostled roughly by a large girl, and dropped her journal. She picked it up (messing up her hair), and then looked up to see if the girl would apologize. But she was nowhere to be seen, having already moved on in the swarm. She did hear laughter, but couldn’t tell if it was directed at her. She clutched her journal, the one thing that grounded her. It had been with her everywhere. She kept notes and drawings in every place she went. It was a roadmap of her childhood.

I was supposed to keep her safe. She reached up and brushed my tears away, her voice barely a whisper. "Daddy, I heard the doctor. The kidney went to someone else." I held her and fell apart. "I'm useless. I couldn't protect you." She shook her head, weak but stubborn. "Daddy, I don't blame you. You've been trying so hard these six months. Don't cry. I don't hurt..." She was lying. She was drenched in cold sweat. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't rest.

I stuck my fingers in between the two larger books on either side and was surprised when they landed on something much smaller. I pulled it out and stared down at a child’s diary. The small lock and leather strap were still attached, but fell open when I lifted it out. Intrigued, I carried the diary down to the couch below and settled in to read. There was no name on the cover, but as I read, it became clear who this must have belonged to. Had he hid it here, himself, in the expectation that no one would ever bother to find it? As I tore through the pages, my heart broke for the little boy who hadn’t known how to do anything other than write down the horrors he was experiencing. His parents

“That empty feeling after? That’s real. Happens to a lot of guys. First time, especially when it’s… big like that.” He tapped the diary again. “But that doesn’t mean it was wrong. Just means it was a lot to take in.” Adam leaned back again, stretching slightly. “Kid walked in a boy, walked out knowing what it’s about. However, it happened… that’s still a line you cross.” He picked at the edge of the cover with his thumb. “Honestly?” he said. “He’ll figure the rest out later. That part always comes after.” A small, easy breath left him.

I looked down at the book once again before I entered my room and sank down on my bed, opening the weathered book carefully, flipping to a random page. Dear Wynter It's been warmer lately, so I know that my time awake is coming to an end. Miss Emily has been pushing me harder in my lessons, so I think she senses it too. Soon it will be your turn, so I have one request - write often. Your words have become the highlight of my waking periods and I want to know everything about the winter season. I worry that I will never be able to experience it. With love, April Ps. I've stuck my favourite flower in the back of this diary. It's called a daffodil.

She brought out the book and gave it to him. “Come with me now,” Grim said when he saw that it was his diary she was reading. In the diary, he had written things he would never say outside. Where he had written some secrets. And she had read most of it. She followed him quietly, fearing that the smallest calm could upset whatever control he had left. She had read about how he had killed people undeserving of death but now she was deserving. The book had contained secrets about his weakness and Grim didn't look like was going to allow her to walk away with such secrets. She had lived a troubled life but this was such a lame way to go.

Dear Diary, I’ve decided to keep a book recording all my days here at High Hill, should make pleasant reading in the future! Well, let’s start with the basics. I’m Gabriel; surname’s irrelevant as I’d rather not link myself to my parents. I’m 15; average height, wavy mousey brown hair, hazel brown eyes, and I’ve just arrived on my first day here. My parents sent me here because apparently public school isn’t good enough for me. But the reason they don’t know is that my parents would rather not have a son like me around them, snobbish twats. I’m just not good enough for them because I’m gay... Oh yes, did I not mention, I’m gay...and single... and full of a house with lots of boys in it. Oh b

She used to write about kindness in the journal she carried everywhere. Whenever life became overwhelming, I'd open one of those pages and remind myself that good people still existed. Standing here now... I was beginning to believe it again. "Aya?" Jamey's sleepy voice floated through the hallway. "In here!" A few seconds later, my younger brother wandered inside without looking where he was going, his nose buried inside a thick book. "Pancakes," he muttered automatically. Then his foot slammed into one of the stools. "Ouch." He looked up.

“Oh, Daddy I know it’s exactly what I think it is.” She leaned in a bit closer and he caught a whiff of her perfume, it was like a mix of wood and flowers, something intoxicating and seductive in a way. Then she said, “It's about time you know that I’ve seen the history on the computer, Lex. You're not really good at covering your tracks or maybe you wanted me to find out. Hmm….I can remember Stepfather fucks stepdaughter raw, 19 year old spreads pussy for daddy, hardcore daddy-daughter sex, oh, what else? Can you help me remember the rest?”