Novel & Cerita Freedom Writers Diary The Book

I lay on the bed looking at the ceiling, thinking about my demons, the ones that haunt me in my dreams. I am thankful for all the drama that happened today because I didn’t have time to think about my horrible memories. 25th of June, the day my innocence got ripped from me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. Every year, when this time of the year comes—I feel dirty. Today, the 25th of June. I still remember his voice. I don’t think I will ever forget it. The whole reason I started writing; to get everything out of my chest. Everything I wrote in my book ‘Behind Closed Doors’ is based on my life, though people might think its fiction. It’s now the best-selling novel, and people don’t

My diary helped me grow personally and captured events that passed by instantly. I desiderated to pen down everything that day. I wanted my diary to have all the precious moments inked in that. That day I experienced things that I could not share with anybody. As I had no one with whom I could do so. I wanted to write whatever I felt like, freely and without outside judgment or criticism.

I don't want Lucian, and I don't want anyone to decide how a white wolf like me should live. Now, I finally did it. I didn't become someone else's mirror image. I didn't stay trapped in a story written for me. I followed the wind into a life I chose. The wind proved that freedom wasn't losing the ability to love. In fact, it was the exact opposite. It was becoming yourself first and then still finding the courage to give your love away.

He waited for me with two glasses of wine. “You came,” he said with a warm smile. “Good. Sit with me.” I sat on the soft couch. He handed me a glass. “Tell me more about the diary,” he asked. “What else did Sarah write?” I took a small sip. “She wrote about the abuse. About feeling trapped. About the baby she wanted to save.” My voice shook a little. “I feel like I am becoming her.”

Keep every feeling I'd never admit to another person. If one day I finally win this battle, we'll read this together and laugh about how dramatic I was. But if I don't... then let these pages carry the weight for me. I let out a shaky breath before I closed the diary slowly and rested my hand on the cover. Some truths were easier to leave between the pages of a book than to ever let another person hear. When I finally looked up from the diary, the room no longer looked the way it had when I'd started writing.

Judy was scared. She knew Lawson could do it, so she covered Samson's mouth and did not have the courage to let him continue. She feared she might not even be able to keep the life she had now. After Judy left with the pup, the scandal spread through the pack. The Beta, who had never been very loyal to Lawson to begin with, started using it to win over other warriors. Lawson waited at the church for an entire day. I did not appear. That day was enough to break him down and make him fully realize I had truly left.

The room grew quiet. “I made mistakes,” I said softly. “Big ones. I lost my way. I lost people. I let fear control me. And for a long time, I thought that was it—my story was over before it even began. But then something changed. I stopped running from the past and started writing about it. And in doing that, I found something I didn’t expect—freedom.” I paused, scanning the sea of faces. Some nodded, others leaned forward, their eyes wide.

Carmen never used to like diary books and thought that they were stupid, reminding you of the reality you want to escape from. Tears fell down her cheeks as she was reading it. 'As you are reading this, you perhaps already know that I left or I am on my way to the airport now. My plane flies at 10 pm. I don't honestly know where I am going and why. But always remember that I'll forever support you. We'll talk daily, please don't cry. I miss you already. Happy birthday again.' As she finished, a sound of a car was heard. Carmen rushed to her bedroom's window and stared outside. It was Liam!

*** The hard cover book stared at him as he contemplated writing on it. He needed someone to hear his thoughts, if not someone, something. He gently opened the book and flipped pages after pages that he had written when he was sober and other times when he wasn't, his words were crude and blunt. Dear diary, I realized something too late, and it is the fact that I don't want to move on. I want to continue to love her and her, me. Every happy moments should be with me Clarissa, and not someone else....

"I feel all of it. I just learned I couldn't afford to show it, because showing it would have cost me my children. So I put it somewhere and I kept moving. That's not coldness. That's what survival looks like when you can't afford to fall apart." She wrote for a while. I noticed I wasn't afraid of her pen. That surprised me a little, sitting there. For four months every written word about me had been a weapon, Langley's file, Alexander's filings, the whole paper woman they'd built to bury the real one. But this pen was different. This one belonged to someone with no reason to lie about me, and for the first time in a long time the idea of being written down honestly felt less like a threat a