The Notebook Novels & Stories

Hilda picked up the notebook and flipped to a page. Sure enough, a few words were written on the frontpage. 'Connie's Notebook'. Hilda touched the handwriting that was clearly written on the paper with such power that it seeped through the paper. It looked neat, as if it was printed. No matter what, it didn't seem like Hilda's mother had actually written it.

Because I was the only one who knew it was a diary, everyone else knows it as a notebook. Silence greeted me. Even though I know that it was quite difficult to obtain the diaries through underground means, I still have my hope. I was about to give up, when the elderly gentleman, Mr. Eye of Notorary speak. “Are you talking about the Witch of Iceland Archmage?” My eyes almost sparkled, I restrain myself from showing any abnormal behavior and nodded calmly. "Yes, sir." Mr. Eye of Notorary nodded. "I don't have the whole notebook but only five pages of it, I'll sell it to you in 5 Nars."

Before I run my fingers across the books, I notice that there is a notebook specially kept. This notebook has a leather cover and looks different from other items in this room. I do not know why, but I can sense that it is a precious thing for its owner and it is well-kept. I really want to open it. Maybe because I am a human, a curious human. But my fear controls me not to open the notebook. Otherwise, I will be killed by Mr. Barnett, the owner of the notebook.

a spiral-bound notebook? With exaggerated care, as if handling some priceless artifact, Caleb set the notebook on the table before her. Lila recognized it instantly - the very same journal he'd commandeered during their last confrontation, now being returned of his own volition. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, darting between the proffered item and Caleb's unreadable expression as she tried to divine the trap surely hidden within this unexpected olive branch. But Caleb merely nudged the notebook closer, then withdrew a pen from his jacket pocket. With deliberate movements, he flipped open to a blank page and began to write. Lila

"Shrina ..." She held up a hand. "I know. You're with Zander. It was just odd." She pulled out a notebook and opened it. "Anyway, I found some weird stuff written in this yesterday and wanted to ask you about it." I bent toward the notebook. A picture of a dark shape, kind of like a monster with its mouth gaping open was expertly illustrated across its lined pages, but I didn't understand its significance. I gave her questioning look. "So?" "This was Bobby's notebook. Look again." She shoved the notebook closer to my face.

Was it perhaps? There was a flash of discomfort a tiny crack in her well-planned triumph. The notebook. That fucking journal. It was a liability as well as an idiotic childish thing full of Ivys innocent ideas and observations. It included information on Sloans whereabouts schedule and secrets. the very things they were attempting to reveal.

This is a mission with the lives of many people, mine included, on the line! God, what’s wrong with me today? With those thoughts swirling in my head, my eyes catch a hint of light. I dig through the things in the last drawer I’m looking through, and finally, come across the shining thing. A notebook. It’s warm. It’s vibrating like the breathing of a great animal. Just like the last one. Except this one is also glowing faintly. “Zen!” I whisper yell, waving the book in my hand “I found it!” He’s at my side the next second, “It’s just like the last one.”

•••• Annabella woke up on Gregor's bed feeling somehow weak,she saw the time on the wall clock and a loud gasp escape her lips,it's past ten in the morning "The kids" She said but a note placed on the bed side table caught her attention and she took it. 💌 DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE KIDS,THEY LEFT FOR SCHOOL ALREADY. SORRY I HAD TO LEAVE BECAUSE OF AN IMPORTANT MEETING,CHECK OUT THE FILE ON THE TABLE. I WILL SEE YOU LATER,I LOVE YOU. She immediately dropped the note and took the file,she opened it at once and her eyes went wide when she saw the contents inside it

She gets up and goes to get her breakfast. Valentina opens the eighteenth notebook to the first page — the one she just started, the one that says: Sixty-one. The right depth. She adds below it: Noa, November, fifteen years old. 'They reach inward instead of outward.' The whole argument for the fourth book, in one sentence. The annual review, complete. The eighteenth notebook, begun. The right depth. Always.

This office that has always felt safe now felt like a crime scene. My fingers drifted across the bookshelf, across the neat rows of accounting textbooks. I stopped when I noticed there was no dust on one part of the shelf. Something roughly the size of a notebook has been sitting there. Dad kept dozens of notebooks because he always wrote down everything. Meeting notes, ideas, random thoughts. He always trusted paper more than computers. Then why is one missing? Someone must have removed that notebook. The question is, who?