Thoughts Diary Novels & Stories

and I can't help myself. **** We read through his diary or whatever he called it. And learnt some shocking details. Russell was sick and the entries that he had written down were all about me and those killed. Where he made it seem as if we were dating, and part take in some very detailed activities. He went as far as making it out as if I was the one that was crazy and stalking him. "We should get rid of these." Felix said. "Wait." I took the book from him and read something that caught my eye, then laughed.

Cara was still deeply immersed in her thoughts as she sat at her desk, scribbling in her diary. Her pen glided across the pages with a sense of urgency, trying to record every detail of the dream that had been haunting her since her therapy session. Her therapist, Jean, had told her that documenting her dreams was crucial to unlocking their hidden meanings, pushing her to be as thorough as possible. It wasn’t just a casual assignment; it was part of her journey to better understand herself, to untangle the threads of her subconscious mind. The idea of writing fiction about her own life felt strange, almost surreal, but Jean had explained that it was a way to externalize her feelings and memo

Annie's P.O.V You know, if someone had told me that today was gonna be the day I was gonna die, then I would have at least prepared beforehand. Was there a way to stop my death now? When my mum was flipping through the pages of my diary with that disappointed and angry look on her face, and now, that look was directed at me.. My diary was like a second me. It knew everything, my life, my friends, my curhses, my wishes and inner desires, and oh… did I forget to mention that I sometimes cuss at my fate of having her as my mum? Damn!

"He might see me as a threat, but deep down, he's a protector at heart. Unlike us, he sees the bigger picture—our survival!" But I was unprepared for the inner turmoil that decision would cause. I had been keeping my latest visions a secret, writing them in a small leather-bound diary hidden in the drawer. Word by word, they flowed from me like water until I could no longer suppress the looming danger that was creeping closer. Each sentence felt like a breadcrumb guiding me down a path I wasn't sure I was ready to walk.

Sierra's POV Everything is overwhelming. Sitting in my room, I examine every little detail: a desk with a spinning chair, a big bed that's way too big for just one person, and a big bathroom with a big bath that would swallow me. I sit on the floor because I don't want to get the nice new chair filthy with whatever is on my clothes and body and I look at what's in front of me. Paper. Pen. Thoughts. Dear diary. Do I even call it a diary or is it dear paper? Either way, it doesn't matter.

I pull out the drawer from my study desk and see colorful diaries of mine which I started to write since my high school, every year with every new colors. They are of brown, lavender, purple, pink, sky blue and black color. Altogether, there are six diaries which I had written in last six years. I had filled them with all the emotions at that time. My fear, my anxiety, my excitement, motivation, my frustration, my madness, my anger and the love I always had been yearning for. All of them were mentioned over there. All of the five diaries were complete but I had never been able to complete the last diary. It’s because I had never been able to write and explain the things that had happened to

I'd read through this diary at least four times in the past three days. Each time I finished it, my hand always found its way to my chest, right where Caden and I's bond sits securely. I worry more, my fear increases and I touch it, hoping to get answers. He's alive, that's all it tells me. The diary itself isn't done with the finery I would have used if I were ever dedicated to writing a diary. It's all short sentences and observations, mostly thoughts that go from one realisation to the next and right back at the beginning.

It's for your own good. Why do I write it then? - someone would ask. I think it's mainly for myself, probably not to go completely crazy. I have to get it all out and put in order. Maybe after reading this later, I will notice some pieces of the puzzle that I missed. Yes, that would be a nice surprise for sure. If I could understand all of this, I would definitely feel so much better, especially mentally. But on the other hand, I'm a little scared. I don't know how it all works, but what if they know when someone is writing about them? Not necessarily in public, but like at all. What if this diary will bring their anger on me? What will happen to me if they come? Will they punish me? And if

However, I can’t help but worry and think about things that’s yet to come. I opened my room and the thing that caught my attention is my mini-cabinet because the diary is inside of that one. I can't help but be curious about the next dates of March and yet I don't want my anxiety level to go nuts. I decided to take a quick shower and go straight to bed.

~ Alice I stretched lazily across my bed, one leg hanging off the edge, completely unbothered by the world. The curtains were half open, sunlight spilling into the room like it had something important to do. I, however, did not. My diary rested on my stomach, pen tapping lightly against the page as I stared at the ceiling. Thinking. Overthinking. Annoyingly thinking. Day… I’ve lost count. “Rowan is so annoying,” I muttered.