Lovely Diaries Novels & Stories

Chapter Three Aura's POV I was about to fell asleep, when I remembered I had to search for a document for my meeting tomorrow. I started searching everywhere in my house when I found a black-grey dusty box. I suddenly recognized it. It was the box of my memories. I opened it and found my high school farewell scrabbled uniform, my favourite keychain, my college I-card and then I noticed my college diary in which I used to write about my life. So, I decided to open it.

A piece of paper was tied to a rock, which had been thrown through the window. “Who the fuck sends messages like this.” I hissed as I bent down to pick the paper up. My hands as I untied the paper and read the message written on it: "Meet me in the woods tomorrow night, alone. I know what you did. -A friend" A chill ran down my spine as I read the words. Who could have written this? And how did they know about Damien's death? The voice in my head sneered, "A friend? More like an enemy, Raven. What have you gotten yourself into?"

Or, it may be something that I can work with him on, to get him to accept just like when it happened with Asher and Dan, and maybe even enjoy, but I chose my diary instead of confessing to my husband. It was locked down, the boys and I were on a little break and the only cock I had in my hot pussy was David, my husband. I wanted to explore, but I couldn’t since I'd vowed to the boys that I belonged to them alone. Without the boys, I turned to my diary to pen down how I met my husband.

“Oh, I’m sorry.. “ she immediately apologized. I turned to pick it up but it was open and the caption at the page caught my eye. It was the first page and the caption “My forbidden secret love” was boldly written on the first page. “Secret love?”. I spoke out loud surprised that the book was a love diary. I was curious and was about to flip through the pages. “It’s late, we need to go…” a friend of mine, Sara, she called me from where she stood close to her car and I quickly put the journal in my handbag and followed her.

Dreamy and Pure. I wondered how much of it would survive the night. As soon as we stepped inside, heads turned. Murmurs followed and eyes narrowed. And I loved it. I smiled sweetly, leaning into Shane and whispering, “Let’s cause a little envy, shall we?” He kissed my cheek. “Already am.” he muttered. I didn’t even pretend to play coy when we found Isabella near the fountain centerpiece, glowing in a lavender gown that floated around her like petals. “Lovia!” she beamed. “Oh my God—you look incredible.”

The first image nearly knocks the air out of my lungs. A woman. Beautiful. Fierce. Eyes sharp with intelligence and sorrow. Blue fire dancing effortlessly in her hands like it belongs there. And in her arms. A baby. My breath goes shallow. That is not a legend. That is a memory. I turn the page. And freeze. This is not a history book. It’s a diary. Handwritten entries. Personal notes. Dates. Emotions bleeding through ink. Why would a woman’s diary be locked away in the forbidden section of the academy library.

And for years now— this diary had been the only place where she had allowed herself to be honest. No human being but only these pages knew her completely. These pages had watched a quiet girl becoming a woman still carrying the same impossible love. For years now, she had shared every emotions and every special moments in that diary. It was so precious. She stared at the diary for a brief second before opening it gently.The scent of old paper greeted her like an old friend. Or perhaps an old wound. Because when she go through those pages she remind herself of every pain she went through. From not being appreciated much to loving someone so dearly that it felt like losing a piece of yours in

And the monster’s victory is so complete, it leaves you wondering if you’re reading the journal of the victim… or the secret, proud biography of the victor. Then, after a long pause, Adam lifted the diary again. His thumb brushed along the edge of the next page. “…Okay,” he whispered. And he opened the diary. ——— Episode 20 – Pool Party The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of chlorine and expensive perfume. Mason’s name was scrawled across the front in a looping, feminine hand. He slit it open with a thumb, his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the delicate stationery. Inside, on a cardstock the color of a summer sky, were the words:

He stepped forward and placed it gently on the mahogany table beneath the spotlight. "Your mother’s private, unredacted diary." Lorrie’s hands shook violently as she stepped toward the table, her fingers tracing the worn edges of the binding before opening the cover. Written across the first parchment page, in a neat, elegant, and perfectly disciplined cursive script, were the words: *«If the shadows of this city take my breath before I can hold you again... I pray my precious daughter grows up knowing she was loved every single day of her life.»*

“You’ve been special to me too, Daisy. More than I probably let on.” We swam back after a while, the routine feeling natural and healing. Back at the cabin, Betty settled at the big window table with her laptop, fingers flying across the keys for the first time in weeks. I grabbed my camera and captured the lake’s morning light, but my lens kept drifting toward her focused, serene, beautiful. Later, as clouds rolled in promising a storm, we built a fire and settled in the living room. I found an old box in the loft while grabbing extra blankets. “Look what I dug up our teen diaries from that first summer here!”