Novel Diary Of Canva Novels & Stories

NATALIA CARTER –that’s my name. First of all, I want to clarify some things. This is not a diary. You can call it a journal or whatever it is that you want, just please... Spare me the word “diary.” That kind of name was for the girly girls, like some of my classmates. They talk and write to their diaries like it’s their secret keeper or like their life depends on it.

She was feeling amazing and excited because for the very first time, Thyago finally notices and known her existence. When she got home after class, she went straight through her bedroom. Feeling happy and inspired, she decided to make a diary of her own. Not necessarily a typical diary where she'll write about her daily living, it was more like a journal where she will write down all the kept emotions and feelings she has for Thyago. She planned to chronicle all her interactions and emotions she had for Thyago. Something inside her wanted to write and savor this feeling of happiness she has for him because if not, her heart will explode in too much excitement and joy. And there into her bedr

All their earlier promises meant nothing then. -------------- Dear Diary… It is a lonely place, a dungeon, when you are locked up on your own and left alone too. I guess he has a home to return to. And I have no wolf to talk to now either. Just four walls to look at. If this is how things go, I am likely to go insane… ----------------

I took a deep breath inhaling all the dust that had been stagnating in the room. 'The watchman has become blind ', I thought as I decided to lock the door again when I noticed something. A diary. I walked in and picked it up. Pink I'm colour, had to be a girl's diary. I walked out with it turning off the lights and locking the door again. I opened it. This Diary belongs to Akansha Goenka. The first sentence I read after opening it in fine cursive handwriting. It belonged to Akansha. Not that bad either.

“Life is a story. Document every day. From Mom to her precious Salvatore.” I freeze on reading the words. This was Sal’s diary?? It seems personal, yet I can’t stop my fingers from opening the first page. The first page is covered in scribbles and small pen sketches of anime characters and fight scenes from some kind of animation. I run my fingers over the messy but beautiful page, and a bitter smile splits my face when I realise that I am staring into the heart of a young boy… The boy he was… before he became the man he is.

Nick picked up a blue diary. He desperately opened it and turned to the first page. That wasn’t it. Nick tossed it aside and found the black journal. He turned to the first page. He exhaled when he realized that it was a continuation of the red one he had read. Nick sat Indian style and zoomed in on the entry.

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,

“I’ve never been treated this way before. Haris always treated me like a princess. Only he could be that sweet to me. He would always wait for me and pick me up after school. Every day with him felt like a dream. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again after our graduation camp. Honestly, I’m scared of losing him.” The handwriting was so pretty—just like any teenage girl’s diary. Cassandra flipped through the next pages… and her eyes widened in shock when she stumbled on something that completely took her by surprise.

“You don’t want to read this.” “Oh, I absolutely do,” Vanda replied, his lips curving into a sly smile. “Vanda,” I protested, feigning dramatics. “It’s embarrassing.” He twisted away, jerking the diary out of my grasp and opening it despite my protests. I practically climbed over him to stop him, but he was too strong. “The date’s years ago,” he argued, dodging my attempts. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” I caught sight of a pink doodle on the corner of a page, and my stomach dropped. I knew instantly which entry he’d found, and it was the worst one.

Noah let out a light chuckle, then turned back to me. “Your secret weapon?" “Yeah, it’s her diary.” I said like I was trying to convince him. “Your secret weapon is a stupid book?” “It’s a diary.” “Like I said, a stupid book?” I rolled my eyes, then began to read the diary. “The only thing you would be seeing is rants, gossip and probably a wishlist of things she wants.” Noah said as he started the car and began to drive home.