Thoughts Diary Novels & Stories

Sky POV I should have burned that diary. That thought had crossed my mind a thousand times since the first night I wrote about him. The professor. My mind had been overflowing. The tension was too much not to document I told myself it felt wrong not to acknowledge this feelings since I couldn’t tell anyone about it Of course I had friends, but not friends friends that you could really tell things to, so it was more that I was alone with this feeling too good to be true, so of course I wrote.

The familiar scent of vanilla mixed with cinnamon hit my nostrils as I moved towards her bed while taking in her room. The last time I was here, I was so busy indulging in whatnot that I couldn't take it all in but now it is different. The room was extremely neat just as i expected it to be. “A diary” I muttered examining the book I picked up from her bed, lying open with a pen beside it. My brows deepened in thoughts as i read her entry for today, 20th May 2020 “Dear diary, all I want to talk about is HIM, I simply cannot get him off my head,he is all I think of every now and then, what am I supposed to do?....” I read softly aloud.

After Lilac fell asleep again—her hand still resting over mine, her breathing finally soft and even—I got up. I didn’t turn on the overhead light—just my laptop and the small lamp by the desk. My journal app open on the screen. I was never big on handwritten journals, mostly because, as Darius likes to say, I have the handwriting of a serial killer. So, instead, I designed this secure journal app to keep all my private thoughts written out, not always in a manner that makes sense to others, but I always understand. The cursor blinked on a blank document, quiet and expectant. It was time. Not to fight, not this second. But to say something.

Whenever I got nervous, I would freeze up, my mouth tightening, while my mind raced at lightning speed. This meant that in moments of danger, all I could do was curse in my head a thousand times while waiting for my inevitable doom with a smile. What I didn't know was that my mind-reading skill was not the kind where I read others' thoughts. It was the kind where others could read mine. Right then, everyone—the players, the boss, the viewers—could hear everything I was thinking. As the muscular man approached me, my legs stiffened, but my brain was running wild, thinking, "I remember Aleena saying that big guys tend to have small manhood."

We have our plan… --------------- Dear Diary… The time I am alone is the hardest. Time to think of Tate and what he might be doing. Is he finding being apart as hard as me? Has he accepted the things I asked or is he fighting them and trying to think of ways to come and save me? Is that what I want?... In truth, I don’t know. I miss him desperately. And I am scared. I think the only one who could help me is him, so maybe… ----------------

Dear Diary It’s been three years since everything changed. Sometimes I still marvel at how quickly life can transform from chaos to calm, from pain to peace. I’m sitting in my room now, surrounded by the comforting hum of everyday life, and I feel compelled to capture this moment, to reflect on how far we’ve come, Everyday I wonder if it's a dream but I don't think I want to ever wake up from this dream,I am finally happy, Over the years things have changed but let me take you on the ride.

Someday, I would probably throw it out and that day may be sooner than expected as the pages were slightly browning and some of the older written words blurred into one another. I’d started writing too, I’d read somewhere online that it was a great way to table your thoughts. Too many ran in my head lately but it was a new year and I’d made that resolution to write in a journal everyday. Was it difficult? Yes, I wasn’t used to it. I either thought too much or didn’t think at all but it helped me channel my thoughts.

Thank you. I would love to hear from you guys in the comments and reviews, please. Let me know what you think and help me to get better. Thank you. I also want you to know that, as this story draws to a close, I already have more titles in the Street Diaries series in the work. Yeah, it's gonna be a series. Love you all.

Let up from screwing with me. And as I did anytime I was feeling agitated, or just drained, I wrote in Ayla: my diary. My hand sought her, and when I held her in my grip I unbuttoned the latch securing her pages. Pages of my sweat, tears, joy; and pretty much my whole life. I passed my fingers over the beautifully old pages, my hand flipping through phases of my life. My fingers halted on a page. It was peppered with numerous love emoticons, XOs and exclamation marks.