The Diary

Story Info
Callie discovers her mom's diary and rethinks everything.
65.1k words
4.78
146.9k
223
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Nicequip
Nicequip
2,618 Followers

Author's Note: This story contains themes of incest and BDSM. If these themes offend you, stop here. All characters in this story are fictional. Any relation to actual people is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual encounters are over the age of eighteen.

This installment is lengthy with a long introduction, and not intended to be a quick stroke story. When I started this story I was focused on writing a story centered on the characters, not the sex. Could I have shortened this considerably? Probably. I didn't want to.

Lastly, I enjoy writing and sharing my stories and encourage people to vote and comment. No comments are ever deleted, even the scathing criticism.

Thank you, Winter Lotus! I appreciate you so much. And thanks to my beta readers too!

Enjoy the read!

*****

THE DIARY

******

"What happened? That's such a complicated question. Maybe you should ask how it happened. Or why it happened. The story starts at the end. But the end is really the middle. And then it goes to the beginning before getting to the end, which really isn't the end at all. I mean, I'm here talking to you, aren't I? And people always ask me if it's Sarah's story. I guess what people know of it would make them think it's Sarah's story. Some people think it's my story. I hate to think of it that way. I don't think that's modesty. When you hear all of it-the part that people don't know-you may think it's Callie's story. You see, you're asking to hear about the whole story. Everyone thinks it's this story of a life... or two lives... but it's much more than that. It got out of control."

"The diary was just the beginning. Sarah couldn't have known when she first put pen to paper what it would become... or what would happen because of it. But the diary is just a piece. And people make assumptions about me when they read it. They think I'm a kind man or thoughtful man or at least well intentioned. Some people think I was a great husband and good father. Others think I'm a deviant. But when they hear the whole story... for those that hear it... I think a lot of people will wonder. They'll look at me and wonder if I'm a bad man. Or maybe I'm a victim of circumstance. Was it all a big mistake? I don't know. It was a misplaced piece of writing. The intentions were pure. The results were sordid. It was a thank you and a goodbye gone awry."

"For those of you who wonder if I really loved my wife, I guess I would tell you to go fuck yourself. I loved her as much as a person can love someone. I'd burn down the world for another minute with her. What happened after Sarah...well... it happened. I realize that I'm the constant in this story. If you unraveled the whole tangled mess back to the beginning—back to the cause that would affect all these lives—it would end up with me, not the diary-just a kid version of myself with a voracious sexual appetite. When I was younger I called it a dark place. With Sarah I called it my dark needs. After Sarah, years after, I called it for what it really is—an inner beast—insatiable and consuming."

"It's not that I caused harm to anyone. Not really. Although some people might disagree. That part of me was always something I had good control over. Maybe it got out of hand when I first met Becca. I mean I controlled it but it worried me. She taught me to master it. I learned to balance it with Sarah. After her, I thought I put it to rest. But then I realized that it's not something I could separate from myself. I think the Johnny Cash song summed up how I feel about it. How did the lyrics start? The beast in me is caged by frail and fragile bars, Restless by day and by night rants and rages at the stars. Did I really expect that I could ignore it forever?"

"But don't be fooled about the root cause. You can judge me if you want. I blame Sarah's diary. Something had to wake those urges inside me. So I don't consider it my story at all. It's the story of many people, not just me and Sarah, all of whom were drawn together by one thing—a diary. So in the end what do I think about myself? I tried to be a good person. I tried to be a good husband. I did my best as a father. I was always well-intentioned. And once you hear it all—the whole sordid mess—you may think I'm a bad guy. I guess when I think back to the beginning and then all the way through it, I don't much care what anyone thinks. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not."

"So it's best to just start with the end... or the middle... and you can think what you want. But first let's start with my name. I'm John Anderson. And what follows next is the entirety of it... the tangled mess that brought me here—to the other side of the country—to this strange place..."

******

Sarah rubbed a small wooden cross between her fingers feeling the smooth lacquered finish. It had a simple string attached to the top and she kept it wrapped around the palm of her right hand. She'd had it since she was a girl. It was a gift after her first communion. Dark circles surrounded her sunken eyes, which told a story of a battle long fought and nearly ended. Her frail, thin arm reached up and her hand rubbed across the smooth, hairless curve of her scalp. She was so tired.

The room smelled sterile. It felt cold and lifeless here. She pressed the button on the side of the hospital bed listening to the electric motor as it lifted her upright. She was used to the pain now. It hardly felt like anything at all, like a new normal tempered by a cocktail of meds. She smiled at the vase of stargazer lilies on her tray table.

"Theresa, would you pick one of the flowers and hand it to me?" She asked with a weak voice.

The nurse was busy setting out her evening pills. She gave a silent nod as she picked a perfect pink and white bloom and handed it to her. Sarah held it up to her nose and inhaled the floral scent. Her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. It was her favorite flower. John made sure that she had a fresh arrangement in her room every day for the last two months.

"You can send him in now." Sarah finally eked out.

She had thought a lot about this moment, about what she'd say. She was at peace with it now, but seeing him come through that door made it seem so hard. John padded quietly to her bedside. His dress shoes echoed in the quiet room. His tie was loosened around his neck with his collar button undone. The tears rolled down his cheek.

"Now, now, John." Sarah chided him with a soft smile. "I don't want to see any tears. I don't think I've seen you cry since Callie had that one-hundred-five degree fever and she fell and broke her arm. Do you remember that? She was burning up. She was only three and you held her in the back seat of the car on the way to the hospital like you'd never let go. I'd never seen you cry before that day... not my strong man, my rock."

"I remember." He replied quietly.

"You have to be there for her now. I need you to hold onto her again and make sure she's safe. You have to do it without me. It's unfair. I'm sorry."

"I... I'm not ready for you go." He choked out.

"It's not up to you or me anymore."

"But you were my best thing. Life doesn't make sense without you."

"That's not true." She wrapped her cold, thin fingers around his. "You gave me everything I ever wanted. A beautiful home. Beautiful clothes. Beautiful jewelry. You made us a family. You did that for me. You made me happy. We have more than we deserve because of you. If anything, you were my best thing."

"I don't want any of it." John caressed her hand. "None of it matters. It was all for you. You were all that mattered. You and Callie."

Sarah squeezed his fingers with the little bit of strength she had. "I still remember the night we met. I knew the second I laid eyes on you that I was in trouble. I knew then that you'd change my life. Do you remember what you whispered in my ear that night? I thought I would die right then. I wanted you to come upstairs so badly. But you wouldn't. You wanted to tease me. You were it for me. I knew it that night."

"I can't ever love another woman, Sarah. It's just not right."

"Nonsense. You have needs and I expect you to fulfill them. You have my permission to be happy again. But more than anything I want you to promise to be as good to Callie as you were to me. Give her a good life."

"Of course!" John sputtered. "Of course I will."

"Take her out of the city, John. Give her a nice house with a yard. Would you do that for me?"

"Yes! I'll do anything you want."

"I packed some stuff away. I want her to have it when she's older. It's in that vintage trunk in the closet. I wrote her a letter. I'm not sure if it says the right things. Make sure she gets it..."

"Mom?"

John and Sarah turned to see Callie standing in the door. Her small hands clutched her iPod nervously. She was too scared to move.

"Come her, pumpkin." Sarah said as she held her arms out. Callie ran forward and climbed up on the bed next to her. "Don't be scared. Everything will be alright."

"Are you coming home soon?"

"No, pumpkin. Mommy's really sick. I want you to have this." Sarah took the small, wooden cross and slipped the string around Callie's neck. "You and dad are going to be okay without me. And I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be with you in here." She pressed her hand against Callie's heart. "I'll be your very own guardian angel."

Callie buried her face in her mom's hospital gown and cried. Sarah laid her head against Callie's and held her. Pain and sorrow filled the room. John quietly opened the door and stepped back into the hallway giving them time alone. And then the reality of everything crashed in on him at once and he broke down.

******

John busied himself setting out more crackers and cheese cubes. He shifted the dishes of hors de 'oeuvres and straightened the stack of cocktail napkins.

"John, let me do that. Don't worry yourself with it." Maggie said in a comforting tone.

"Sarah always set everything out when we had guests." He was still concentrating on the layout. "She had this way of making everything seem perfect." He fiddled with the stack of silver cocktail forks. "It still doesn't look right." His hands shook and he knocked over an empty glass. "Shit." He muttered hitting the table lightly with his fist trying to control his emotions.

Maggie put a hand on his shoulder and turned him toward her. "I'll take care of it, John. Go be with your guests. Talk to Callie. She needs you."

"I need Sarah." He replied painfully.

"I miss her too. She was my daughter. I understand. But you need to be strong for Callie."

John lifted his head scanning the room. Friends and family mingled in black attire. He could hear scattered conversations about Sarah as people remembered the wonderful times they shared with her. His eyes settled on the small body sitting on the window ledge in the living room looking out over Central Park. Callie had her earbuds in and clutched her iPod with a distant, lost gaze. Her simple black dress was wrinkled as she held her knees tightly against her chest.

"She's only ten." He said as he watched her. "She lost her mother at ten years old. I'm scared, Maggie. I'm scared that she'll never be the same. I'm scared that I can't do it on my own. I'm broken inside. What if she can see that? What if I mess her up more?"

Maggie smiled through her big tear filled eyes. "Sarah made some choices that I didn't agree with when she was younger. Marrying you wasn't one of them. Being a parent isn't easy, John. It's not supposed to be. You were good for her and for Callie. Trust me when I say that you'll get through this. I'm not saying it will be easy. But you'll get through it"

"Thanks, Maggie." John gave her a hug.

"Did you want me to take her for a few weeks while you get things settled? It might be good for her to get away."

"We won't be staying here much longer. I made a promise to Sarah to raise her out of the city. I want her to be here with me to look for a new home. I'd rather just upend everything at once and start new."

"I'm here if you need me."

"I know."

John turned around and got lost in the crowd of guests. He hated the condolences and the well wishes. But he suffered through it and thanked everyone for coming.

"John." Peter Strauss approached him with a glass of scotch. "Have a drink with me. I promise I won't be sappy."

"I could use one."

"To Sarah." Peter raised his glass. "Smokin hot and funny as shit."

"And amazing tits." John added with a sad grin at the fond memory.

"I knew it! If I didn't love my soulless bitch of a wife I would've made a pass at Sarah." Peter laughed. "She left us too soon. Fuck the world." He took another sip in her honor. "And now I hear that you're leaving us?"

"Yeah, Peter. I meant to come down and speak to you about it in person. I'm sorry you found out this way."

"You've had other things to worry about." Peter said brushing aside the apology. "You've got a partner offer on the table still, John. I've known you for fourteen years. You were a bright eyed little pup when you came in and interned with us. You've worked your way up on your own. I never did you any favors, you know? I always liked you, but I made you work for it. You've earned this offer."

"I know you did. The job meant everything to me back then. But my daughter means more to me."

"There's no convincing you to stay? Be the youngest partner in company history?"

"I've gotta think about my little girl. I made a promise to Sarah. I appreciate everything. I do. But I can't take the offer."

"Well the partners still want to help. We've already got some buyers lined up for your condo. Park view. 34th floor. I know you haven't listed it yet. We'll get you a good price. And we've arranged a severance."

"A severance? I quit. I'm not owed a severance."

"I'm not giving you a golden parachute, John. The partners discussed it and we wanted to do something. It's enough to put Callie through private school and college and buy you a nice house. You've made us a lot of money over the years. Consider it a well-deserved bonus."

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just accept it. She was amazing, John. One of a kind. We'll all miss her."

"John?" Tessa said with a shaky voice. He turned to see her standing beside him. Her mascara was a mess running in dark lines down her cheeks. He had to hold his breath to keep from choking up. She threw her arms around him and began to sob. Her body went limp in his arms. "Oh god, John! How did it happen? What are we gonna do without her?"

"I don't know." He replied quietly holding her tight. The tears escaped his eyes now too. "I don't know."

******

The last of the guests made their way to the front door. Maggie picked up the glasses and napkins and began to clean. She stacked the dishes in the sink and started to wrap up the leftover food.

"Thanks again, Maggie." John said graciously as he helped make room in the refrigerator. "Have you seen Callie?"

"I think she's in her room. I've got this. Go talk to her."

John walked down the hall and knocked on the bedroom door. He waited a moment and then slowly turned the handle. Callie was lying on her bed holding a picture of her mom. He could hear her soft sobs. John moved forward and sat down on the bed next to her. She looked up and pulled the earbuds from her ears.

He took a deep breath finding his strength. "How are you doing, pumpkin?"

"Don't call me that. That's what mom called me. Now she's dead."

"Callie-bear, she didn't want to leave us. Sometimes things happen and it's hard to understand why."

"Why her? Why couldn't it have been you? Or grandma? She's old anyway. It's unfair."

The tears welled in John's eyes. He knew she didn't mean it. "If I could trade places then I would." He laid back on the bed next to her staring at the ceiling. "It's gonna hurt for a while, Callie. I miss her too. And I don't think it's ever going to make sense."

"I just want her to come back."

"I know. Me too."

"Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"Are we really gonna be okay?"

John propped himself up on his elbows. "Let's make some promises to each other, okay?" He said. "I promise that I'll never tell you everything is going to be normal. She's never coming back. But we're going to be optimistic and the pain is going to go away a little bit every day. Let's not focus on being fine. Let's focus on doing better than the day before." Callie forced a sad smile. "Will you promise to do your best? Will you promise to try and be strong and get through this with me? I'll never be mad at you for being sad. But we have to try and move forward."

Callie looked up at her father quietly. "Okay. I promise."

"And I promise never to forget her."

"Me too."

"Mom told me that she wanted us to move. She wanted me to find a house somewhere out of the city with a yard and nice bedroom for you. Some place you could ride a bike. How does that sound?"

"Away from my friends?"

"Some place where you could make new friends."

"Will it have a pool?"

John laughed. "We can find one with a pool."

"Okay... only if mom wanted it..."

"Did you know there's only one person in this world that I love as much as your mother?"

"Who?" She asked genuinely uncertain.

"You, Callie-bear. I love you so much."

"I love you too, daddy."

John sat quietly and rubbed her back until she finally fell asleep. Then he sat there in the darkness of her room and let the weight of everything hit him. He lost his wife. He quit his job. He was moving to the suburbs to make a life centered on his daughter. It was scary. Life without Sarah was scary. John took a deep breath. He made a promise to her. She had been everything he asked her to be. It was his turn now.

******

By the time John made it back to the living room, Maggie was working on a glass merlot on the couch. The dishwasher was running and the place looked as if no one had been there. John poured himself a glass and took a seat in the armchair across from her. It was largely quiet until Maggie finally broke the ice.

"What were the last words she said to you?"

"You are the piece that makes me whole. I love you more than you will ever know." John repeated the words as if they were precious. "What about you?" He asked in return.

"She said, 'Mother, you will respect my wishes.'" John cringed hearing Maggie repeat the statement. "I think she thought she'd get to speak me again. What did I expect? It seems appropriate given our relationship. Things with us were always complicated. She left me a letter though. I cried for hours after I read it. It said all the right things... all the things I wished she would have said out loud. Did she leave you a letter?"

"She said that she left one for Callie. She never told me where she put it. I tore the house apart looking for it. It's not here. Maybe it got thrown out... or maybe it was at the hospital and someone threw it out by mistake."

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"When you met her, how did you get her to settle down? She was so full of piss and vinegar. She changed when she met you. She blossomed into this better version of herself. Don used to say you were a godsend... That we could finally stop worrying about her. How did you do it?"

"I don't know. I'm not special, Maggie. I'm not without my flaws. Honestly, I never knew what she saw in me. I always felt like I was the lucky one. I just asked her to accept me for me, and in return I'd accept her for her. I never cared about what she was like before me. I only cared about the man she made me want to be."

Nicequip
Nicequip
2,618 Followers