Novel & Cerita The Absolutely True Diary Of A Part-time Indian

Before long, Shanine started crying out, but I kept pressing down on her in my excitement, making my petite girlfriend tremble beneath me. ... Early the next morning, Shanine and I arrived at the train station. She was still complaining that I had not been gentle with her the night before, saying I had left her sore enough that it hurt to walk. I just smiled without saying anything. Soon enough, Phoebe arrived. "Shanine! Richard!" She was a little late, and the train was almost ready to depart. Phoebe wore a stretchy tank top that hugged her full curves and a tiny leather skirt around her waist that was incredibly short. Her hair was dyed golden, and her face was beautiful.

We danced for what seemed like forever and then we left the party, we returned to my room and fortunately, Chuks was not back. Zarratown was amazing because of Shurrah, we clicked almost immediately. She was so beautiful but her mind, her carefree attitude, and her story were what really got me attracted to her. Her story was a sad one, you know the kind of story that would make even someone like me think deeply about my problems and thank God, even if I find it difficult to believe in him. We started talking when we got back to the room and I found that She was sold off by her abusive uncle when she was seven, her parents died when she was just a baby and he the only relative she had left

With a shaky breath, I put them back in the box and looked at the diary. “Just do it, Nina. You need to know the truth.” I finally picked up the diary and undid the slim rope keeping the thick leather diary close. ____ A. Gupta

"Open to the last page, you might want to read it." Iandor pulls out the thick diary, it has a light blue plain hardcover to it with a small 'L.H' at the bottom right corner of the book. The auburn-haired male guessed it was Hana’s initials. He quickly run the pages till it stopped at the last one, reading her entry it was entitled 'The boy who cried wolf.' Love comes in all different shapes and sizes, different races and beliefs, different skin and eye color. No matter who you were in love with you tend to risk your life and protect them even if it kills you.

She put her hand on the back of my head and gently rubs my head. "shh, it's okay. Take a deep breath and try to explain to me exactly what happened okay?" She says trying to comfort me. My eyes are burning from the salty tears and my head is spinning in panic but I try to calm down and explain everything to her. I tell her about last night. I tell her about the mirror and the eyes and the forest and the girl who looked just like me. I tell her I couldn't control my body. I try to convince her it wasn't my fault. I tell her about the safe and the box unlocking when only she knew the combination and the spell to disarm the box. I tell her everything.

I run in there and what I saw made me laugh so hard that tears formed in my eyes. The mighty wolf hybrid was resembling a pixie on steroids. Covered in glitter, flowers, and a pink dress that was about to rip. Gods he also had makeup and- stockings- Our hysterical laughs couldn’t cover Jade’s high-pitched voice. “Jade please, shut up. Our ears are almost bleeding.” I screamed in between laughs. “Ro, please.” Finally, she had mercy on us, changing him back to normal. The touchy puppet stormed out all fuming to change his clothes. Cursing something towards disrespectful females.

The pitter-patter of heavily pouring rain clashed with the comforting silence of her childhood home as Diana sat in her usual spot at the dining table, absently chewing on some cornflakes with milk while her mind constantly flew off to other places, bound by the worries no young woman of her age should ever have. Her large green eyes glazed over, absently staring at the small rivulets of water trailing down the window as the prospect of another day of non-stop working hung so heavy on her slender shoulders, chased away over and over again by that sole thought; the wellbeing of her mother.

Dinner was the same as breakfast. She shuffled in the bed, trying to find the best position to sleep. It was hard to let sleep take over when millions of thoughts were going through her mind. She finally surrendered and walked up. She got her phone silently and sat back on the bed. She entered the sight Sima had sent her a week ago. Sima was her and her brother’s Indian friend. She was a sweet Indian woman in her mid thirties. They had met her in the library they go to every weekend and had been seeing her there every time. They gave her the nickname Simba. Sima had travelled back to her country a couple of days ago to visit her mother. She lived in America with her husband and children but

I continued wandering through the world until my expiration date arrived. I gently ran my fingers over the photo as silent tears slipped down my face. Life was so good back then, but there was no going back. Suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang. A gust of cold wind swept in, making my skin crawl. Craig crossed his arms over his chest, his scrutinizing eyes fixed on me. The Sainsbury family were multimillionaires. They lived in a mansion spanning over ten thousand square feet. Yet, I deliberately chose the storage room as my bedroom.

And another part of me was like… …or she just became what hurt her. I don’t know which one is true. Maybe both. This whole entry just feels heavy. Not in a bad way, just… the kind that sits with you after you close the page. Like you’re not sure if you witnessed someone’s awakening or their undoing. And maybe that’s why it feels real. …she slowly closes the diary halfway, then hesitates… before opening it again to the next page… Let’s see what the next one says.