The Sober Diaries Novels & Stories

Sophie said, rubbing her hands together. "You know what for once I agree with you Sophie, that idiot deserves a beating."Diana said. "Guys what's the point, I just want something that will keep my mind off him right now."Ember said. "Fine, but if I bump into him I won't spare his ugly face,"Sophie said. "Let's go to that bar that just opened recently." Diana suggested. "I don't drink and you guys know that." Ember said. Sophie rolled her eyes at her, she still didn't understand why Ember didn't drink because according to Sophie, alcohol was all a person needed to get rid of all their worries.

I opened it, and my eyes widened as I saw a collection of diaries and pictures. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries were old, the pages yellowed with age. I began to read, and what I found shocked me. The diaries belonged to Seth, and they told a story of Seth and Vee on the run from the warlocks.

Maybe I do belong at Nico and Anthony’s side after all. “Little Dove, focus. I know it’s been a long day, but I just need your attention a bit longer. Then I promise you can zone out and get lost in the madness of your mind.” Nico states snapping his fingers in my face. “Sorry, I’m a little tired. Erica dragged Sofiai and I all over, and she’s somehow more intense sober.” I reply. Nico snickers. “Yeah, who would have thought getting sober would cause such a major personality shift. Sometimes I’m not sure I buy it, but until I’m proven wrong I’m just going to assume she’s sober.”

I WANT YOU DIANE MAX (FL) — 21YRS NICHOLAS JAX (ML) — 26YRS NICHOLAS The sound of my own grunts filled the empty room, raw and unfiltered. My body was tense, my hand moving faster over my shaft, chasing that sweet edge. I could see her in my head—Diane—like she was standing right in front of me. Naked. Teasing. Her perfect ass swallowed the thin strip of her panties, her breasts straining against a bra that looked seconds away from surrender.

I snapped the book shut, completely losing my mind in a fit of genuine howling laughter. “Elijah?” Jasper asked, his face twisting in disgust. “As in Elijah Brooks? The golden boy?” “The one and only,” I wheezed, wiping a tear from my eye. “This girl is writing an erotica about Kingsborough’s favorite little choir boy. Oh, this is pure gold. This is blackmail heaven.” “Who is it?” Silas asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm but there was a dangerous edge to it now. I flipped to the inside cover of the diary. There, written in that same meticulous loopy handwriting was a name..

I stared at his near-lifeless corpse for a few minutes, then shimmied out of bed, cleaned myself up, threw on jeans, a t-shirt, sandals, and drove down to the local all-night coffee shop, “The Daily Grind.” Grabbing a decaf mocha with whipped cream and chocolate syrup, I sat at a corner table and flipped through a dog-eared newspaper. If someone described me then, they’d say: 21-ish blonde, long hair over my shoulders, nice D-cup breasts, cute face that looks good without makeup, good legs, and a vaguely pissed-off look.

“And have you tried painting again? Since you’ve been sober?” She looked down, pulled her hand away. He looked at her, and he could actually see Naomi shutting down on him, right in front of him. “Hey.” His rough voice was gentle. “Look at me. Naomi, look at me.” She glanced up, then looked away quickly. He saw the sparkle of tears in those brown eyes and his heart squeezed. “You OK?” he said. “I’m – I’m terrified to try to paint sober. I have never, never done a great painting sober, not in the whole of my life.” She wiped her eyes. “I don’t think that I’m any good at art without the alcohol.”

She stopped only when she felt satisfied, leaving a child to endure pain no child should ever have to understand. And his suffering did not fade with time. Instead, it hardened and numbed him. Growing up, Zandrei learned to survive by shutting parts of himself down. Somewhere along the way, his pain curdled into something darker. He developed an instinctive aversion to women, rooted not in reason but in memory. A raised voice, a sudden touch, even a lingering presence could set his nerves on fire. Rage came fast and unfiltered, like a defense mechanism forged in a house where love had always come with bruises.

Sia was hopeless and felt worthless after visiting Joe’s house. She got nothing to lose, so she went back home. She went into depression for many months and couldn’t come over the fact that Joe got married. She became a bad nasty girl. Sia started getting super drunk every day and dated random guys. She was addicted to smoking and could not live without sex. Her personality totally changed, and she started to stay out of the house often. Most of the time, she was in clubs or bars doing God knows what.