Human Diary Novels & Stories

My hands clenched the diary so tightly that my knuckles turned white. No. No, this couldn't be real. But it was. I forced my eyes open and turned another page. This time, there was a crude drawing—of me. My face, my hair, and my smile were sketched with an almost obsessive level of detail. "I don't know when it began, this maddening fixation on her smile. It's as if the world stops when she laughs, and I am the only one lucky enough to hear it. She's sunlight in a world that I no longer recognize. But how do I touch the sun without burning us both?"

“Sure. You've read through the whole thing right? It was part of your lawyer duties?” He nodded. “Both sides of the case read through the diary.” “And what was the first entry date of this ‘diary’?” “Two years ago.” “Did she mention that time she broke her big toe? Because that was a landmark moment in her life.” Harrington paused. Then hesitantly said, “No.”

Enjoy the journey ............. Emily POv : I was rearranging my cupboard, sorting through the piles of clothes and forgotten items, my fingers brushed against something unexpected—a diary. My diary. I paused, feeling a rush of memories flood back at the sight of the worn, weathered cover. It had been so long since I last laid eyes on it, tucked away amidst the clutter of my belongings. With curiosity, I retrieved the diary from its hiding place, feeling the weight of years past in my hands. As I flipped through its pages, the familiar scrawl of my own handwriting greeted me, each entry a window into moments long gone but not forgotten.

I don’t think I would ever recover from potentially reading a detailed description of how I came into existence. Although I wanted nothing more than to stay much longer and read the whole diary, I was running out of time. I grabbed the Arciero book of records instead.

July 2nd, 1943- First Diary Entry. I hate writing and I don't know why granny gave me a diary for my birthday I mean it's a book, I can't even eat it and it's not even cute. Anyway, granny said I would know what to write about when it was time but I think the crazy is getting to her.

Dear Diary, My first day at college did not go as expected to say the least. My roommate is a little odd, I mean she literally has barely said two words to me. Her name is Annabelle and I think she's like a pre-law major or some shit. Classes haven't even started and I haven't seen her take her eyes off the thick ass textbooks she already bought. I had tried multiple times to start a decent conversation but she seemed less than interested.

I contemplated whether to check out the book, but I saw another person just leaving without even glazing at the librarian who was busy doing his own work. ~~~~~ Back in my room, I sat down on the settee and opened the book. The pages had taken a brownish hue, conveying its age. Surprisingly it was more like a diary. I frowned. Whose diary was it? The name had become smudged. Even then I carefully flipped the page. My eyes halted on the first line of the first entry. ‘Mother is scary. She doesn’t love me. She doesn’t love father. She wants to kill us….’

Tears started falling out of her eyes and she tore the package to get what was inside. Two diaries fell down from it and Sia's hysteric hands grabbed the first one. She remembered it. It was Lara's diary. Sniffling, Sia placed her hand on her mouth to stiffle her cries. Her heart was tearing apart. It was enough now. She was tired of losing people. She was so tired of it that she wanted to die herself.

My painful scream filling the dawn. ‘I came out of my room because of the noise, rubbing the sleep off my eyes. When I turned the corner I stumbled on something. Looking down I saw Aria, my nanny. Why she slept here on the floor? Her eyes were open. My hands slipped off her neck when I touched her. There was blood. Like on the bird I saw last week. She was dead. But why? I love nanny? Why would she die? I ran crying to find mommy. When I reached the stairs I saw strangers, down, in the hallway, they were fighting with daddy and our guards. There was even more blood and daddy was hurt. Our butler’s chest was naked, and there was a hole instead of a heart. And mom’s maid was naked and gagging

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.