Example Diary Novels & Stories

I walk to the door to check if it's locked. After checking it twice, I move to the window and lock it before losing the curtains. I look around to see if everything is set. And yes, we are good to read! I run to the cupboard and take the diary out. This diary smells like old times. I brush it a few times while walking to my bed. I lay in the most comfortable reading position I can find before opening the diary. 'Rily Dencer.' I turn the page and see a picture of a young girl. The picture has become yellow because of time maybe but still can't hide the beautiful lady beneath it.

There engraved was our family name: KINSMAN. "Get inside, Sam" father said while holding the door. "Do you have everything?" he said when I entered the door "I still don't have my diary." I replied weary. He looked at me and brushed my hair, "You're my dear child. I'm happy that you grew well." I felt shivers, it seems his words were a premonition. I smiled at father and replied, "You were great parents to me. I love you both" He took his hand again, and he held a book sized diary. The features of the diary is familiar, wait!

I think I need to buy more because what is happening is so exciting for me. In just one day, I use two pages just to tell what happened in my day and how I narrate about what happened when I killed one of my classmates. My diary is literally my friend. He knows a lot about me rathe than a person who doesn’t know even a single fact about me. Even my family does not know the real me. Dear Diary,

he ignored my question and called the server. “Do you have anything spicy here?” “Um...like what?” “Never mind, Do you have French fries?” “Yes.” “I will bring it.” When the server left, he turned to me. “Then what’s that note? Any study stuffs.” “It’s my diary. I will write about myself and my daily life. But I don’t feel like writing it anymore” “Why?” he said without taking his eyes off me. “Cause nothing good happens in my life, so why should I have one. I want life to be happy, interesting with a little of passion, adventure, love which I never found.”

I see he is on his way to Johannesburg tomorrow morning. The diary is held open at the top with a paper clip and a smaller piece of paper. The word that first catches my attention on the piece of paper is Password. My heart skips a beat. "That's what people do," I still hear Gregory say. "They are naturally lazy when it comes to things like remembering passwords, so they write them in their diaries, or they put them in a desk drawer. Some write them on a calendar where they can find them easily." Password... But before I can lower it properly, Dale is behind me.

There's still a lot to do today in preparation for your third wedding anniversary tomorrow with Lobo, not to mention the preparations that need to be made for the banquet. Wait, what?" Do you mean to say that the banquet is tomorrow? "Well, yes, don't you remember?" The dagger had pierced my chest so forcefully that I reached up and placed my palm there, but there was no visible damage. Maybe everything that had happened was just a dream. I promptly hopped out of bed and went directly to my desk, pulling my diary from the drawer. This journal helped me immensely with day-to-day life management. I kept track of official events and pack-related activities in there, as well as my mood and a sum

I start to write, my hand moving quickly across the paper: "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!"

“Look what I dug up our teen diaries from that first summer here!” Betty’s eyes widened as I pulled out two worn notebooks. “Oh god, no. Don’t read those. I was such an angsty mess.” “Too late,” I teased, flipping one open. “‘Dear Diary, Daisy is so confident with her camera. Wish I could be like her. She makes this stepsister thing feel… nice. Safe. Maybe too safe?’ Hmm, interesting.” Betty snatched it, laughing embarrassedly. “Give that back! Yours probably says I was a boring bookworm who followed you around like a puppy.”

My first memoir in a new diary. My old diary was filled with stories and stories of girls I've fucked and turned but after this incident that happened on 23/4/2027 I had to start a new diary. So... I was angry that mum was remarrying. I really hate the thought that she couldn't keep her pussy at check after dad's death and jumped into another man's arms. However, she kept reassuring me that it's going to be fine but I hate it as hell.

I take a look at the contents of the box. Inside are diaries. At least ten of them, all labeled with her initials. S.R. My hands shake as I pick up the one on top. When I open it, dust flies off the pages like trapped breath being released. And then I read, even when my fingers trembled. Even when the pages felt like they were burning. The diary began innocently. April 7 “Mama braided my hair today. She says it makes me look like a princess. Papa didn’t come home last night…”