I ran my fingers gently along the hard cover of the notebook. A ribbon peeked out by the side, soft and cream coloured.
When I skimmed through the contents, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Just her writing about how her day went at the strip club and how she felt while dancing for men each night.
To be honest, she was a good writer because I could paint a vivid image of everything she wrote in my head.
She also had a section, describing everything she liked. Of course she mentioned that she loved the colour purple and that she loves donuts. She also mentioned loving her boyfriend, Fred.
I scanned the pages and was about to drop the diary when I saw something on the last page.
It read— Dear diary, some bad guys are after me. I'm not sure I would live any longer.
Throughout the
