Novel & Cerita Teenagers Diary

and for me to prove that I’m no longer the girl he can bully. I fished my diary entry and looked out of the window of my apartment. Some people might regard writing a diary as an old fashioned juvenile activity. But for me, it's a way to process my thoughts and emotions. I used to write a diary in school, but I lost it on the day of graduation. In a way, it was good; I was able to start fresh in my adult life without the weight of my past entries. I slipped into my bed and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was a big day. ********************************************************

I got depressed. I ran home, I finished my diary, locking it and thinking of a way for everyone to know the truth. I decided on letting an unknown person read this. So I set the password to open the diary as my locker password, in case the next girl to take it would be the one to read it. I didn't want the people who already knew me to do it and I knew the school never changes a locker password.

It did not sound too far-fetched when she remembered who he was. Still, there was something weird about this text. Etiennette just could not put her finger on it. She tossed her phone to the bed and slowly went to her suitcase to retrieve a book clasped shut with a lock. It was Etiennette's diary. She started writing when she was in her high school years as a means to destress and express her feelings. She recorded everything in here—joy, sadness, pain, the likes. [June 4th, 2019. Thursday. Sunny.

I was ready for any such vile retaliation at school, but I didn't know that Lucy, a girl from Ronan's pack, would openly declare about my personal diary to the entire school. After all, it's called personal for a reason and I have written so many things about Ronan in it. Fuck! I have scribbled his name over and over, on hundreds of pages mindlessly, so what could I possibly do now that she has MY personal diary?

The Present "What do you think will happen if I start telling everyone your deepest, darkest secrets?" I crumple the paper in my hands as a familiar black shroud covered me. A clear threat. The third one I've gotten this week and this only has one explanation. My diary from 2013. It's been two years and I still haven't found it. Whoever has my diary really has it in for me. I need to figure out who this person is and stop them before they can start doing so. Ugh. Just thinking about it makes my head ache. And it's the start of Senior Year, too, when it's the busiest time for us in the Student Council.

she curiously asked. “Uhm... That was a journal, baby. Your personal diary... I mean, if you grow old someday, you will realize things... Things that you couldn’t ask to another person because you will be afraid or scared to make them think that you are weird or something... So if ever that you have some questions about yourself and you don’t know whom to ask it, you can write it down in here...” “Really? Will I be able to find the answer then?” “Maybe... As time passes by, if you read the first pages of this diary, you will finally be able to answer that question all by yourself. It’s because you already experienced it... That’s when you realize that you finally grow a lot over the long per

When fate and destiny will bring our lips together. The list of words from my diary were endless, the entries were hot and hot. A number of students were rushing into the hallway to find out what was wrong. This was the biggest thing that was ever going to happen at Maslow High School. The papers were lined up everywhere and everyone was plucking a page to read. They were stuck on the hallway with chewing gums and pages from sticky notes. I looked at the paper more closely and almost cried. The next entry was even worse, the tears in my eyes were on the verge of dropping down and flowing on my cheeks. This was beyond repairable. Whoever had been keeping my diary had been waiting for the perf

But I wish she would understand my views, my feelings and choices and respect them too as I do hers. My next move after sending her my poem will be to wait for her reactions and talk it over with her severally in a considerate and respectful way. After that I shall send her a copy of a novel. A book that I believe will further open her eyes to what I feel for Aisha and probably help me explain better, a book written by her beloved son. That book is what you have in you hands now, titled DIARY OF A PATRIOT.

When he got there it was almost late, he was the last to get in the car. He sat down beside a girl but paid little to no attention to her. He opened up his diary and started writing. "Is that a diary? I have one too." A soft girly voice asked it was the girl beside him. He looked up and she was in the same uniform as he was. She was so beautiful he couldn't make himself answer her question. He just kept staring with his mouth half-open. "Is something wrong with my uniform? I just got it. It's my first day, you see?" She said with a smile.

My body just wouldn’t settle anymore. I was nineteen, one month away from turning twenty, but right then I felt like his helpless little patient again, dripping and desperate with no relief. Mom and Dad had headed out early for their full day work trip and wouldn’t be back until late tonight, leaving the whole house empty except for me and this burning need between my legs. I rolled onto my back and let my hand drift down before I could stop it. My fingers brushed over my slick folds and I shivered hard. “Shit, I’m such a mess already,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice all breathy.