Never Spares Who Touches My Diary
Chapter 1: The Soul's Only Friend
The rain has always followed Kash.
It started on her tenth birthday. She was playing alone in her room when her grandmother entered, smelling of old paper and dried lavender. With a mysterious smile, she handed Kash a leather-bound diary. "Happy birthday, my little shadow," she had whispered. "When you feel the world is too loud, or when you are truly alone, this book will be your only friend. But remember, Kash—this diary only has room for one soul."
Eight years passed, and that diary became Kash's heartbeat. But as the connection grew, so did the darkness in her home. Her mother, Sillia, watched her with eyes full of fear and loathing. To Sillia and her father, David, Kash was not a daughter; she was a living curse.
College offered no escape. A girl named Mini made it her life's mission to torment Kash, but Kash had one secret hope: Akash. He was the most popular boy in college, and he seemed to be the only one who saw her. He encouraged her to enter the National Talent Showcase, promising to be her partner. Kash spent months pouring her soul into a fusion of painting and dance, creating a masterpiece that meant everything to her.
On the night of the showcase, the plot was revealed. As Kash waited for her cue, Akash didn't show up. Instead, he appeared on the giant screen behind the stage. He had secretly recorded Kash practicing in private—moments where she was vulnerable, talking to her diary, and crying about her lonely life.
The entire college watched as Akash laughed on screen, mocking her "cursed" life for a bet with Mini. Her paintings were vandalized with black ink, and her dreams were destroyed in a single night.
Fully broken, Kash sat in her room as the rain hammered against the glass. She remembered her grandmother's words. She was alone now. She opened the diary and began to write, her tears hitting the paper. That night, Kash was found cold and still, her body curled in the corner, clutching the diary to her chest in a grip so tight that not even death could break it.
A year passed. Sillia and David, wanting to erase the memory of their daughter, put her room up for rent. A new college girl named Jash moved in. As she unpacked, she noticed a loose floorboard near the window.
Tucked away in the shadows was a leather-bound book, waiting to be opened.
Jash sat up in bed, her heart thumping against her ribs. In the pale moonlight, she saw the girl in the corner, sobbing and clutching the book to her chest. Terrified but curious, Jash tried to get closer. As she moved, she bumped into a stool, falling hard to the floor. The noise shattered the silence, and in that split second, the girl vanished. The room was empty once more.
The next morning, Jash found Mrs. Sillia in the kitchen. "Mrs. Sillia," she began, her voice trembling. "I saw a girl in my room last night. She was crying and holding a book."
Sillia didn't even look up, her face hardening. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "Young girls shouldn't drink or let their imaginations run wild. There is no one in that room but you."
Frustrated, Jash retreated to her room. She knew what she had seen. She reached under the floorboards and pulled out the diary. But just as she opened the first page, her phone buzzed. It was a call from her mother.
Distracted by the long conversation, Jash set the diary down on the edge of the bed. She talked for nearly an hour, and when she finally hung up, she turned to pick the book back up. It was gone. She searched the desk and the blankets, but it was nowhere to be found. It was as if the room itself had swallowed it. Eventually, she gave up, assuming she had misplaced it in her rush, and went to sleep.
At exactly 1:00 AM, the chill returned. Jash's eyes snapped open to see the same sight: the girl with the open hair, sitting in the corner, hugging the diary in that tight, deathly grip. Jash watched, frozen, as the figure slowly faded into the shadows.
Suddenly, Jash looked under the bed. There, lying in the dark dust, was the diary. It had moved on its own.
Jash pulled it out, her hands shaking. She realized now that the ghost wasn't just haunting the room; she was guarding the book. The confusion in Jash's mind turned into a desperate need for answers. She sat on the floor, flipped the cover open, and finally began to read.