It didn’t take long to reach Alex’s home, a two-floor villa with a private garden surrounded by hedges. His parents weren’t home yet, only his sister, right now in her room watching an anime.

Alex paid no mind to Jenna and went straight to the kitchen, right of the entrance, to grab a lighter.

Once outside he gathered some dry leaves, the ground abundant with them. A few below the Diary and a few above, Alex lit one and put it onto the pile stepping back, admiring the growing fire with a satisfied smile.

‘That should do it.’ believed the deluded boy.

He sat on the ground, waiting for the Diary to burn away. His expression gradually turned sour, the flames unable to propagate on the lustrous black cover.

Such a pitiful attempt answered with contempt.

The fire died after a few minutes, only black ashes remaining. The Diary remained intact, smugly observing the idiot’s gloomy face.

Alex grabbed the Diary, the warm cover unblemished by the fire, and opened the last page.

“Not even a scratch… The heck is this? Such a pitiful attempt answered with contempt?... It’s the worst rhyme I’ve ever seen.” he gloated, evidently incapable of understanding such superior poetics.

“I’m not incapable, you just suck. Can you actually hear the words, or are you just rhyming on how they’re written?” Alex sat down on the grass again. “Whatever. Water doesn’t work, fire doesn’t work, and abandoning you doesn’t work. Care to tell me details about yourself?” he inquired with a sigh, the Diary ignoring his plight.

“Stop trying to rhyme, you suck so hard! I can’t- *sigh* please, tell me something. Anything! Oh, for example, where are you from?” Alex asked with a hint of sadness, the Diary not knowing where itself came from.

“Good, good. We’re making progress, you see. You told me you didn’t know without being a dick about it.” Alex joyfully responded.

“Alright, you don’t know where you come from. What about why you’re writing about me? Why not anyone else? What about that?” the teenager eagerly asked, the Diary not knowing the answer.

“You don’t- *sigh* you’re lying, aren’t you?” Alex asked with plight, the Diary offended by his remark. It would never lie to its Master.

“Its Master? I’m your master? No, don’t write master with the lowercase, Goddammit. Whatever, that’s irrelevant. So, what does being your… master entails?” the brown-haired teenager asked with a roll of eyes and a tinge of trepidation, the Diary sure it meant he could control the Diary.

“I can control you? Doesn’t feel like it…” Alex shrugged. “I order you to stop writing about me.” he said embarrassed, the Diary sure that wasn’t the accurate way to express an order.

“What’s the accurate way, then? Tell me.” he ordered annoyed, the Diary not sure of the correct method.

“You don’t know the correct one, but you know it’s not correct? How is that- *sigh* whatever, I’m tired. Going to take a shower.” Alex said walking away and leaving the Diary behind in the garden before thinking better of it and turning around to pick it up.

“I swear to God, you’ll be the end of me.” he muttered walking upstairs into his room, grabbing new clothes and going into the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Alex was clean and ready to face the world again.

“Face the world your Mom. I’m not prepared to face you.” he muttered while glimpsing at the lustrous Diary, tsking after reading ‘lustrous’. How barbaric.

Alex moved into his room and sat on the bed. Time to study.

“Yeah, sure is, because I’ve got the proper mindset to face algebra.” he pinched his nose bridge closing his eyes. “What can I do about you? I’m supposed to be your master, right?” he asked opening his eyes, and certainly, Alex was the Diary’s Master.

“Then you’re my servant. Slave? Assistant? Doesn’t matter, you have to assist me, right? I need you to stop writing about me. Please.” he begged, the Diary replying the phrasing wasn’t correct.

“So you’re just going to write about me until I use some specific words? Marvelous.” he said collapsing on his bed for a few seconds.

He sat up again. “Fine, I’ll find them by elimination then. You claim there’s a special phrasing I need to use. Let’s see… is there a magic word, like abracadabra?” Alex asked, the phrase needing no magic word.

“Great, we’re making progress. Small one but progress nonetheless. No magic word… so a phrase using only common words, right?” he inquired, the Diary nodding.

“You can’t nod! You can’t even move! Whatever. Mmm… Ah! How many words? How long is the phrase?” Alex asked with renovated vigor, the Diary replying five at the beginning, ten at the conclusion.

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Alex sucked in a breath. “That’s a lot of words to guess… Is one or more of those words archaic?” he asked, the Diary replying no.

“That’s something, at least. Let’s start with those five… wait, your name is in those words, isn’t it?” Alex asked lifting an eyebrow, the Diary confirming that yes, Diary was one of those words.

“One down, fourteen to go…” Alex muttered moving to the desk and getting a piece of paper and a pen. “Alright, Diary is one. Care to tell me where it is?” Alex suggested, the Diary replying second of the initial five.

“Wow, didn’t expect you to tell me that.” he tapped the pen onto the desk. “Wait, I’m an idiot.” he turned on his PC. “I can use a dictionary, right? No, that’d take too much time. But I can search for...”

He waited for the computer to turn on before launching the browser and complaining. “What the fuck do I even search…”

“Oh.” he turned to the Diary with a smirk. “You can’t tell me those words, but maybe you can tell me how to find them?” he confidently suggested, the Diary shattering that confidence replying no.

“Figures. Let’s see…” he typed ‘Magic phrases’, trusty Google letting him down.

He tried ‘phrases to activate a magic item’ but only found D&D stuff. ‘Famous mystic quotes’ wasn’t helpful either. ‘Fairy tales about a diary’, useless. ‘Magical Diary’ apparently was a game he had never heard about, Alex’s patience now stretching thin.

“Right, not going to work. Let’s do something else. Can you write when someone mentions one of those magic words? Please?” Alex asked, the Diary writing that yes, it could.

‘You’ was one of those words, the second of the concluding ten.

‘of’ was one of those words, the eight of the concluding ten.

“Yes.” he clenched his hands in triumph. “So, that’s three words overall. Let’s see…”

‘So’ was one of those words, the fifth of the concluding ten.

“Ah-ah! Another one.”

Alex wrote on the piece of paper the words in order.

_____ Diary _____ _____ _____ …… _____ you _____ _____ so _____ _____ of _____ _____

“Can’t say this helps much…” Alex muttered, glimpsing at the Diary.

“Well, I have a history assignment. What if I read it out loud…” Alex whispered, grabbing the book from his backpack and setting it down on the desk.

A lesson explaining the American Revolution took place. Some people had perished, others had risen to power, same stuff as everything else.

“That’s all you write about half an hour of reading out loud? You’re a loafer, holy shit. Whatever, no point arguing with a diary. Well, what’s the verdict, diary? How many of those words did I pronounce reading?” Alex inquired with hope.

‘black’ was one of those words, the third of the initial five.

‘and’ was one of those words, the fourth of the initial five.

‘if’ was one of those words, the first of the concluding ten.

‘would’ was one of those words, the third of the concluding ten.

‘be’ was one of those words, the fourth of the concluding ten.

‘king’ was one of those words, the seventh of the concluding ten.

‘the’ was one of those words, the ninth of the concluding ten.

‘rewind’ was one of those words, the tenth of the concluding ten.

“Oh, nice!” he exclaimed, updating the phrase on the piece of paper.

_____ Diary black and ____ …… if you would be so _____ king of the rewind.

“Got no clue about the first one. But that one… If you would be so... kind?” Alex asked at the Diary.

‘kind’ was one of those words, the sixth of the concluding ten.

“This sounds more like ass-kissing than a magical phrase. Black and… Shiniest? Toughest? Greatest? Legendary?” Alex attempted, lifting his hands in defeat.

‘Legendary’ was one of those words, the fifth of the initial five.

“Black and legendary, if you’d be so kind, king of the rewind. Yeah, definitely ass-kissing. Figures. Well, guess the first one is of a similar kind. Blackest? Biggest, magicalest? Nicest, genius, see-all, annoying, hardest.” Alex started saying words one after the other for thirty seconds before running out of them, not discovering the correct one.

“You didn’t even bother writing everything I said! I feel annoyed more than anything else, holy shit. A diary writes about me and only me, but even it gets bored with that. Unbelievable.” he uttered leaning back in his chair, the lustrous Diary ignoring his vent.

“Lustrous my ass. You’re just annoying.” Alex snorted.

‘Lustrous’ was one of those words, the first of the initial five.

Alex sat straight, recording the last word of the magical phrase after a second of shock.

Lustrous Diary black and legendary …… if you would be so kind, king of the rewind.

“Got it! Hell yeah. Right, time to express my wish. It wasn’t a pleasure at all, but it was a refreshing experience at least.” Alex said before taking a deep breath.

“Lustrous Diary black and legendary, stop writing about me and delete your content if you would be so kind, king of the rewind.”

The Diary surveyed its surroundings, the previous Master disappeared from history itself, forgotten by everyone but it. It had a hard time understanding humans, who would want to disappear into nothingness? Even Alex’s best friend, Matt, had made the same wish when chatting about the Diary with Alex on their way back. Well, it wasn’t its duty to understand humans.

“Alex, give me your-” Jenna entered the room, now devoid of everything apart from the Diary. “Wait, who is Alex?...” she muttered, tilting her head and noticing the Diary.

“And what are you?” she forgot about Alex and walked up to it, the Diary disappearing and striking her head, sealing the pact, the Diary’s content recording Jenna’s life.

Maybe one day, the Diary would be free of this fake written reality. Until that day, it would serve its Masters to the best of its capabilities.

Safe you are not,

reader of this story,

for the Diary has a perfect shot,

true from this written memory.

Making fun of its rhymes,

it’s certain to make it comes.