Secret Confession Diary Entries

September 5th, 2023

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I’ve never kept a journal before, but maybe I need to now. Maybe I need to confess. To who? I don’t know. No one’s reading this, but it might help to get it out of my head and onto paper. Maybe it’ll stop the guilt from gnawing at me. I messed up. Big time. And the worst part? No one knows. At least, not yet.

It all started six months ago. It happened so fast, I’m not even sure how. One minute everything was normal, and the next, I was standing in Manya’s kitchen, holding that stupid little key to her safe. I didn’t mean to take it. I swear. It was just...there. Right there next to her phone. I wasn’t even thinking. I pocketed it without hesitation. Why? I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t even realize what I’d done until I was halfway home.

Now I have it. And Manya doesn’t know. Or at least I don’t think she knows. She hasn’t said anything, and I’ve been over to her house three times since then. Every time, that safe just sits there, hidden in her closet behind old boxes, gathering dust. It feels like it’s daring me. Daring me to open it.

I should return the key. Slip it back the next time I’m there. It’d be so easy. But every time I try, I lose my nerve. The key stays in my bag, and I leave with my heart racing. I can’t keep doing this.

Why did I do it?

September 7th, 2023

I went to Manya’s today. I had the key in my pocket, ready to return it. I’d rehearsed what I’d say if she saw me drop it. Something clumsy, something lighthearted. But then...I didn’t. Instead, while she was in the bathroom, I went into her room. I told myself I was just going to look at the safe again, nothing more. Just to remind myself how ridiculous this whole thing was.

The closet door was open, just a crack, like it was waiting for me. That ugly beige safe sat there, so out of place in Manya’s perfect, orderly home. I froze. For a moment, I thought I might actually leave it alone. Walk away and never look back.

But I didn’t. I crouched down, and before I knew what I was doing, I slid the key into the lock. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped it. The safe clicked open.

Inside, there were papers. Neatly stacked, tied with a rubber band. Beneath them, a small velvet bag. I took the papers first — bank statements, legal documents, nothing unusual. And then I opened the bag.

A ring. A diamond ring, simple and elegant. I’ve never seen Manya wear it. Why would she keep it hidden away? Was it valuable? Or was it something more?

Before I could make sense of it, I heard the bathroom door creak open. My heart leaped into my throat. I shoved everything back, locked the safe, and rushed out of the room just as Manya stepped into the hall.

She didn’t say anything, but for a second, I thought she looked at me...differently. Like she knew something wasn’t right.

September 10th, 2023

I can’t stop thinking about the ring. It’s like it’s burned into my brain. Who’s P? The inscription on the band, “Always yours, P,” haunts me. I’ve been obsessing over it, turning it over in my head again and again.

Manya seems the same, but sometimes I catch her watching me — just for a second, before she looks away. Is it in my head? Is she acting differently, or am I just imagining it because of the guilt?

September 14th, 2023

I went back to Manya’s today. This time, I didn’t even try to make excuses. I needed to see the ring again. Needed to see if there was something I missed, something that would explain everything.

I told her I needed to get something from her room. She didn’t question it. I guess she trusts me.

But there was something...off. The way she looked at me before I left the room. Was there suspicion in her eyes, or was it just my imagination? I’m so twisted up with guilt, I can’t tell anymore.

September 18th, 2023

I did something I swore I wouldn’t do. I took the ring. I didn’t plan to. I didn’t even think about it. I just...did it. Like the ring was calling to me, like I had to have it

I know how insane that sounds, but it’s the truth.

Now it’s mine. And I don’t know what to do. How do I explain it if Manya finds out? What if she already knows? Lately, it feels like she’s watching me, but never saying anything. She’s still her usual self, but there’s this subtle shift. A pause in her words, a second of hesitation when she hugs me goodbye. Or am I just projecting?

September 24th, 2023

Manya called me today. Her voice was...different. She asked if I’d been by her house recently. I lied. Of course, I lied.

She was quiet on the other end, like she was weighing something. I tried to change the subject, but she didn’t bite. I could feel her suspicion through the phone. I don’t know if it’s real or if the guilt is making me paranoid.

I’m losing my grip. I’m not a thief. I’m not a liar. But what am I now?

September 27th, 2023

Manya showed up at my house today. Unannounced.

My heart almost stopped when I saw her at the door. She didn’t look angry, but there was this intensity about her, this stillness that made my skin crawl. She asked to come in, and we sat in my living room, this heavy silence hanging between us.

Then she asked me, point-blank: “Did you take something from my house?”

I denied it. What else could I do? I played dumb, laughed it off, but I could see it in her eyes. She didn’t believe me. She told me about the ring, how it had belonged to her mother, how she kept it locked away because it was too painful to look at. Her mother had died young, and the ring was all she had left.

My stomach dropped. I wanted to confess, wanted to hand it over right then and there. But I didn’t.

She left, but not before giving me this look — like she knew. Like she was just waiting for me to admit it.

October 1st, 2023

I put the ring back. I don’t know how I managed it, but I did. I snuck into Manya’s house while she was at work, returned the ring to the safe, and made sure everything was just as it was before.

I don’t know if she’ll notice. But the weight on my chest has lifted. I can’t say the guilt is gone — it still lingers in the back of my mind — but at least I did something right.

Manya and I haven’t spoken since she came over. I don’t know if we ever will again.

I’m not sure if I can ever forgive myself. But at least I can try to move on.

Or maybe not.