Diary Buku の小説・ストーリー

I found a few notes of cash so I took out a few notes from that drawer. When I was getting money from the drawer something fell on the ground. I bent down and picked up the book from the ground. I saw that it was a diary. I opened the diary. On the first page, it was written that it solely belongs to Aaron Malhotra. Whoever reads this diary without its owner's permission will face severe consequences... I kept the diary on the bed and gave money to the maid. I told her to bring me 2-3 packets of sanitary pads.

My head painfully shake. Am really sorry" I inwardly shutter. I hastily turn around. I superspeed out of the hall to the cottages parking lot. I abandoned Douglas lips agape and confused. Am certain he's stuck within an inquisitive delima. An inquisitive delima over my unexpected scurry. It's pretty weird, suspicious and hilarious. I felt like a kangaroo chased by a starving blood thirsty lion. What's actually more hilarious is my abandoned book. I abandoned my book on my desk.

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.

But today, something had drawn him in, a need to connect with the person he had lost so tragically. As he rummaged through his brother's belongings, his fingers brushed against a leather-bound book hidden beneath a stack of papers. He hesitated for a moment before pulling it out, recognizing it as his brother’s diary. The worn cover and frayed edges showed signs of frequent use, a testament to the secrets and thoughts it held within. Damon’s heart clenched as he opened the diary, the pages filled with his brother’s handwriting staring back at him. It felt like he was about to intrude on something deeply personal, but his need to understand, to know what his brother had been going through, ov

It was easy to spot her since they were having a sports day. "You only got me, unfortunately," I chuckled as I pulled out a diary book for her from my handbag. "This is for you." "What is it?" She asked as she took the diary. "I had one when I was your age. It helps to write down the chaos in your head and keep them inside the book. That way, things don't get into you very easily. I know how chaotic things get when you're 15." She gave me a brief hug again. "Thank you, Miss Darla."

Shaking my head for being this distracted, i walked over to my desk and opened the top drawer. Diaries, notebooks and my year book stared at me from within the top drawer and i was hit by a sudden wave of emotions. Reaching in, i picked out the first Diary on top of may. The cover looked old and the corners were starting to rip. The last day i wrote on my last Diary was after i started therapy with Dr. Goodman. Saying and then writing the same thing over and over again was starting to lose its appeal so, I'd stopped. Smiling a bit, i placed the Diary on the desk, knowing i wouldn't leave it behind. I took a deep breath of heavily perfumed air and looked back into the drawer. Not reaching for

My diary helped me grow personally and captured events that passed by instantly. I desiderated to pen down everything that day. I wanted my diary to have all the precious moments inked in that. That day I experienced things that I could not share with anybody. As I had no one with whom I could do so. I wanted to write whatever I felt like, freely and without outside judgment or criticism.

I walked over and picked it up and Adrian made a noise like he was going to stop me but I opened it anyway. The first page had Sophia's name and a date from three years ago and the pages were filled with her handwriting, paragraphs of tiny neat words. "This is her diary," I said. "That's not—" Adrian stopped. "I thought that was a work journal." "It's her diary." I flipped through and saw they were all dated, all personal entries about her life and thoughts. I turned to the last entry and my blood went cold when I saw the date. The day before she died.

I then went through the files on his table, “This will take long. You can go home if you like” I said to Taylor, but she refused. “I wanna help. What are we looking for?” She asked, “Anything” I didn't know how to tell her. Her dead fiancé was probably a fraud who was leaving what I assumed was a double life. Taylor and I began to look through the files one after another. It was mostly work documents. In one of the notebooks, I found a phone number and tore the paper, putting it in my pocket. In Kelvin's study, I found a photo in one of the drawers,

"I'm not sure. But I am almost sure no one saw me, can you tell me what is going on right now? Is it some sort of 'no touch book'?" "Well, kinda. You see that book is not a scrapbook. It's a journal." "Okay, whose journal?" "Everyone you saw their pictures there." "Wait, hold on." "Holding on." "You're telling me that that book is a diary? Like not historical data or educative, I don't know, background checks. You are saying it's a diary?" "Well, practically we go by journal but sure diary works too." "If it is a diary, why the hell is it kept in the library? I have never heard of a diary being kept in a library before."