The Sober Diaries Novels & Stories

Chapter#23: Diaries are important [Jacob Seo's P.O.V.] ꧁❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎꧂

"Dance? How can I dance when all my body aches badly? My feet are hurting badly, I can't..." "I don't care if you're hurting or not, all I need is for you to entertain me. Now let's get to it!" he snapped back at her and he turnaround. "I will do what you ask of me but please allow me free my bladder. it's been 48hours since you brought me here, I've not urinated nor eat or drank any water. Please, just let me use the bathroom so I'll be able to perform well" Anna pleaded and he turnaround and glared at her.

I open the letter and there are tear drops on the paper but otherwise still readable. Dear Abby, I can't apologize enough for my recent behavior but I need to tell you something that even your mother doesn't know. I know it will never excuse my behavior but I need to get it off my chest. I wasn't truly mad at you for keeping you being able to see again a secret. I was more mad at myself cuz I've been keeping a huge secret from everyone. I've been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor a few months ago and where it's located affects my reasoning. I've been told I only have a few months to live that's why I've been drinking and acted the way I did. I am so sorry. I truly wish your baby be bo

He waited for me with two glasses of wine. “You came,” he said with a warm smile. “Good. Sit with me.” I sat on the soft couch. He handed me a glass. “Tell me more about the diary,” he asked. “What else did Sarah write?” I took a small sip. “She wrote about the abuse. About feeling trapped. About the baby she wanted to save.” My voice shook a little. “I feel like I am becoming her.”

“Well, it’s more than kind of. I’m a huge mess. But I’m trying to get my life together, and I figured I’d document it. I’m going to use these videos as a diary of some sort. That way, when I look back—when, hopefully, I have my life together—I can see how far I’ve come.” For the next ten minutes, I ramble on about my life story and everything I want to do this summer. I’m more open about things than I feel like I may be while sober, but it’s refreshing to voice all my fears out loud and address them by saying everything I want to accomplish before I leave the Hamptons.

"What part of get the frigging hell out of my life don't you–" "I understand what you are going through, Micheal. Trust me, I do. I've been through worse–" "Then you will understand when I tell you I'm sick of your sob stories, yeah? Get out–" "My point exactly is that I'm sorry for all that happened here today and all that happened before, I don't want all you remember of me to be the mistakes I've made. I want to be remembered by the one person that truly knows me as human."

Adam closed the diary slowly, his fingers lingering on the edge like he was holding onto the last line a second longer than he needed to. He stared at the cover, quiet for a beat. “…Alright, Theo,” he muttered. He leaned back, exhaling, one hand rubbing the back of his neck as he processed it. This one didn’t hit as hard as the others. No power plays, no domination games, no calculated manipulation. Just a guy who lied… and then got in too deep to control it.

*** The hard cover book stared at him as he contemplated writing on it. He needed someone to hear his thoughts, if not someone, something. He gently opened the book and flipped pages after pages that he had written when he was sober and other times when he wasn't, his words were crude and blunt. Dear diary, I realized something too late, and it is the fact that I don't want to move on. I want to continue to love her and her, me. Every happy moments should be with me Clarissa, and not someone else....

The promise she whispered wasn’t just words—it was a seed of determination taking root in her weary soul. She walked to the small study where her journal lay open, its pages worn from neglect. Picking up a pen, she began to write, not only recounting her mistakes but acknowledging the moments she had shown strength, compassion, and care. Each line became a mirror, revealing both fragility and resilience. She wrote about the sleepless nights when she had comforted her children despite exhaustion, the brief moments of laughter shared with Rethabile, and the tiny victories of resisting the pull of alcohol even once that day.

" I said then got up to serve a customer who just arrived. Peter left the bar to go watch a football match at the London cinema. There were few customers in the bar and I was tired of studying. Registration for the Senior Secondary School Examination I missed will commence in a month. From the cookies I have been selling at the bar, I was able to raise a quarter of the money. My mother would complete the rest and God knows I have been praying we have enough. I took out a pen from my notebook and resolved to writing. The parcel Dr. Amrah gave me as a birthday gift was a large Diary of almost a thousand pages and a dozen pen. I knew what it meant. She wanted me to keep writing. I brought the d