WEDNESDAY, JULY 1, 1942Dearest Kitty,Until today I holy couldnt find the time to write you. I was with friends all day Thursday, we had pany on Friday, and thats how it went until today.Hello and I have gotten to know each other very well this past week, aold me a lot about his life. He es from Gelsenkir and is living with his grandparents. His parents are in Belgium, but theres no way he get there. Hello used to have a girlfriend named Ursu. I know her too. Shes perfectly sweet and perfectly b. Ever since he met me, Hello has realized that hes been falling asleep at Ursuls side. So Im kind of a pep tonic. You never know what yood for!Jacque spent Saturday night here. Sunday afternoon she was at Hannelis, and I was bored stiff.Hello was supposed to e over that evening, but he called around six. I answered the phone, and he said, "This is Helmuth Silberberg. May I please speak to Anne?""Oh, Hello. This is Anne.”"Oh, hi, Anne. How are you?" “"Fihanks.”"I just wao say Im sorry but I t e tonight, though I would like to have a word with you. Is it all right if I e by and pick you up in about ten minutes "Yes, thats fine. Bye-bye!”"Okay, Ill be right over. Bye-bye!”I hung up, quickly ged my clothes and fixed my hair. I was so nervous I leaned out the window to watch for him. He finally showed up. Mirairacles, I didnt rush dowairs, but waited quietly until he rang the bell. I went down to open the door, a right to the point."Anne, my grandmother thinks youre too young for me to be seeing you on a regur basis. She says I should be going to the Lowenbachs, but you probably know that Im not going out with Ursul anymore.”"No, I didnt know. What happened? Did you two have a fight?”"No, nothing like that. I told Ursul that we werent suited to each other and so it was better for us not to go together anymore, but that she was wele at my house and I hoped I would be wele at hers. Actually, I thought Ursul was hanging around with another boy, and I treated her as if she were. But that wasnt true. And then my uncle said I should apologize to her, but of course I didnt feel like it, and thats why I broke up with her. But that was just one of the reasons."Now my grandmother wants me to see Ursul and not you, but I dont agree and Im not going to. Sometimes old people have really old-fashioned ideas, but that doesnt mean I have to go along with them. I need my grandparents, but in a certain sehey need me too. From now on Ill be free on Wednesday evenings. You see, my grandparents made me sign up for a wood-carving css, but actually I go to a club anized by the Zionists. My grandparents dont wao go, because theyre anti-Zionists. Im not a fanatic Zionist, but it is me. Anyway, its been such a mess tely that Im pnning to quit. So Wednesday will be my st meeting.That means I see you Wednesday evening, Saturday afternoon, Saturday evening, Sunday afternoon and maybe even more.""But if yrandparents dont want you to, you? shouldnt go behind their backs.”"Alls fair in love and war.”Just then we passed Bnkevoorts Bookstore and there eter Schiff with two other boys; it was the first time hed said hello to me in ages, and it really made me feel good.Monday evening Hello came over to meet Father and Mother. I had bought a cake and some dy, and we had tea and cookies, the works, but her Hello nor I felt like sitting stiffly on our chairs. So we went out for a walk, and he didnt deliver me to my door until ten past eight. Father was furious. He said it was very wrong of me not to get home on time. I had to promise to be home by ten to eight iure. Ive been asked to Hellos on Saturday.Wilma told me that one night when Hello was at her house, she asked him, "Who do you like best, Ursul or Anne?”He said, "Its none of your business.”But as he was leaving (they hadnt talked to each other the rest of the evening), he said, "Well, I like Ater, but dont tell anyone. Bye!" And whoosh. . . he was out the door.Ihing he says or does, I see that Hello is in love with me, and its kind of nice for a ge. Margot would say that Hello is emily suitable. I think so too, but hes more than that. Mother is also full of praise: "A good-looking boy. Nid polite." Im gd hes so popur with everyone. Except with my girlfriends. He thinks theyre very childish, and hes right about that. Jacque still teases me about him, but Im not in love with him. Not really. Its all right for me to have boys as friends.Nobody minds.Mother is always asking me who Im going to marry when I grow up, but I bet shell never guess its Peter, because I talked her out of that idea myself, without batting an eyesh. I love Peter as Ive never loved anyone, and I tell myself hes only going around with all those irls to hide his feelings for me. Maybe he thinks Hello and I are in love with each other, which were not. Hes just a friend, or as Mother puts it, a beau.Yours, AnneSUNDAY, JULY 5, 1942Dear Kitty,The graduation ceremony in the Jewish Theater on Friday went as expected. My report card wasnt too bad. I got one D, a algebra and all the rest Bs, except for two B+s and two B-s. My parents are pleased, but theyre not like other parents when it es to grades. They never worry about report cards, good or bad. As long as Im healthy and happy and dont talk bauch, theyre satisfied. If these three things are all right, everything else will take care of itself.Im just the opposite. I dont want to be a poor student. I ted to the Jewish Lyceum on a ditional basis. I was supposed to stay in the seventh grade at the Montessori School, but when Jewish children were required to go to Jewish schools, Mr. Elte finally agreed, after a great deal of persuasion, to accept Lies Gosr and me.Lies also passed this year, though she has to repeat her geometry exam.Poor Lies. It isnt easy for her to study at home; her baby sister, a spoiled little two-year-old, pys in her room all day. If Gabi does her way, she starts screaming, and if Lies doesnt look after her, Mrs. Gosr starts screaming. So Lies has a hard time doing her homework, and as long as thats the case, the tut shes beeing wont help much. The Gosr household is really a sight. Mrs. Gosrs parents live door, but eat with the family. The theres a hired girl, the baby, the always absentminded and absent Mr. Gosr and the always nervous and irrita Ie Mrs.Gosr, whos expeg another baby. Lies, whos all thumbs, gets lost in the mayhem.My sister Margot has also gotten her report card.Brilliant, as usual. If we had such a thing as "cum ude," she would have passed with honors, shes so smart.Father has been home a lot tely. Theres nothing for him to do at the office; it must be awful to feel youre not needed. Mr. Kleiman has taken over Opekta, and Mr.Kugler, Gies Co., the pany dealing in spices and spice substitutes that was set up in 1941.A few days ago, as we were taking a stroll around our neighborhood square, Father began to talk about going into hiding. He said it would be very hard for us to live cut off from the rest of the world. I asked him why he was bringing this up now."Well, Anne," he replied, "you know that for more than a year weve been bringing clothes, food and furniture to other people. We dont want our belongings to be seized by the Germans. Nor do we want to fall into their clutches ourselves. So well leave of our own accord and not wait to be hauled away.”"But when, Father?" He sounded so serious that I felt scared."Dont you worry. Well take care of everything. just enjoy your carefree life while you .”That was it. Oh, may these somber words not e true for as long as possible.The doorbells ringing, Hellos here, time to stop.Yours, AnneWEDNESDAY, JULY 8, 1942Dearest Kitty,It seems like years since Sunday m. So much has happes as if the whole world had suddenly turned upside down. But as you see, Kitty, Im still alive, and thats the main thing, Father says. Im alive all right, but dont ask where or how. You probably dont uand a word Im saying today, so Ill begin by telling you what happened Sunday afternoon.At three oclock (Hello had left but was supposed to e back ter), the doorbell rang. I didnt hear it, since I was out on the baly, zily reading in the sun. A little while ter Margot appeared i doorway looking very agitated. "Father has received a call-up notice from the SS," she whispered. "Mother has goo see Mr.van Daan" (Mr. van Daan is Fathers business partner and a good friend.)I was stunned. A call-up: everyone knows what that means. Visions of tration camps and lonely cells raced through my head. How could we let Father go to such a fate? "Of course hes not going," decred Margot as we waited for Mother in the living room. "Moo Mr. van Daan to ask whether we move to our hiding porrow. The van Daans are going with us. There will be seven of us altogether." Silence. We couldnt speak. The thought of Father off visiting someone in the Jewish Hospital and pletely unaware of what was happening, the long wait for Mother, the heat, the suspense -- all this reduced us to silence.Suddenly the doorbell rang again. "Thats Hello," I said."Dont open the door!" excimed Margot to stop me. But it wasnt necessary, since we heard Mother and Mr. van Daan downstairs talking to Hello, and thewo of them came inside and shut the door behind them. Every time the bell raher Margot or I had to tiptoe downstairs to see if it was Father, and we did anyone else in. Margot and I were sent from the room, as Mr. van Daan wao talk to Mother alone.When she and I were sitting in our bedroom, Margot told me that the call-up was not for Father, but for her. At this sed shock, I began to cry. Margot is sixteen -- apparently they want to send girls her age away on their own. But thank goodness she wont be going; Mother had said so herself, which must be what Father had meant whealked to me about oing into hiding. Hiding. . . where would we hide? Iy? In the try? In a house? In a shack? When, where, how. . . ? These were questions I wasnt allowed to ask, but they still kept running through my mind.Margot and I started pag our most important belongings into a schoolbag. The first thing I stu was this diary, and then curlers, handkerchiefs, schoolbooks, a b and some old letters. Preoccupied by the thought of going into hiding, I stuck the craziest things in the bag, but Im not sorry. Memories mean more to me than dresses.Father finally came hQme around five oclock, and we called Mr. Kleiman to ask if he could e by that evening. Mr. van Daa ao get Miep. Miep arrived and promised to returhat night, taking with her a bag full of shoes, dresses, jackets, underwear and stogs. After that it was quiet in our apartment; none of us felt like eating. It was still hot, and everything was very strange.We had rented upstairs room to a Mr. Goldschmidt, a divorced man in his thirties, arently had nothing to do that evening, since despite all our polite hints he hung around until ten oiep and Jan Gies came at eleven. Miep, whos worked for Fathers pany since 1933, has bee a close friend, and so has her husband Jan. Once again, shoes, stogs, books and underwear disappeared into Mieps bag and Jans deep pockets. At eleven-thirty they too disappeared.I was exhausted, and even though I kd be my st night in my own bed, I fell asleep right away and didnt wake up until Mother called me at five-thirty the m. Fortunately, it wasnt as hot as Sunday; a warm raihroughout the day.The four of us were ed in so many yers of clothes it looked as if we were going off to spend the night in a refrigerator, and all that just so we could take more clothes with us. No Jew in our situation would dare leave the house with a suitcase full of clothes. I was wearing two undershirts, three pairs of underpants, a dress, and over that a skirt, a jacket, a raincoat, two pairs of stogs, heavy shoes, a cap, a scarf and lots more. I was suffog even before we left the house, but no ohered to ask me how I felt.Margot stuffed her schoolbag with schoolbooks, went to get her bicycle and, with Miep leading the way, rode off into the great unknown. At any rate, thats how I thought of it, since I still didnt know where our hiding pce was.At seven-thirty we too closed the door behind us; Moortje, my cat, was the only living creature I said good-bye to. Acc to a note we left foldschmidt, she was to be taken to the neighbors, who would give her a good home.The stripped beds, the breakfast things oable, the pound of meat for the cat i -- all of these created the impression that wed left in a hurry. But we werent ied in impressions. We just wao get out of there, to get away and reach our destination in safety. Nothing else mattered.More tomorrow.Yours, AHURSDAY, JULY 9, 1942Dearest Kitty,So there we were, Father, Mother and I, walking in the p rain, each of us with a schoolbag and a shopping bag filled to the brim with the most varied assortment of items. The people on their way to work at that early have us sympathetic looks;you could tell by their faces that they were sorry they couldnt offer us some kind of transportation; the spicuous yellooke for itself.Only when we were walking dowreet did Father and Mother reveal, little by little, what the pn was. For months wed been moving as much of our furniture and apparel out of the apartment as we could. It was agreed that wed go into hiding on July 16. Because of Margots call-up notice, the pn had to be moved up ten days, which meant wed have to make do with less orderly rooms.The hiding pce was located in Fathers office building. Thats a little hard for outsiders to uand, so Ill expin. Father didnt have a lot of people w in his office, just Mr. Kugler, Mr. Kleiman, Miep and a twenty-three-year-old typist named Bep Voskuijl, all of whom were informed of our ing. Mr. Voskuijl, Beps father, works in the warehouse, along with two assistants, none of whom were told anything.Heres a description of the building. The rge warehouse on the ground floor is used as a workroom and storeroom and is divided into several differeions, such as the sto and the milling room, where amon, cloves and a pepper substitute are grouo the warehouse doors is another outside door, a separate entrao the office. Just ihe office door is a sed door, and beyond that a stairway. At the top of the stairs is another door, with a frosted window on which the word "Office" is written in bck letters. This is the big front office -- very rge, very light and very full. Bep, Miep and Mr. Kleiman work there during the day. After passing through an alcove taining a safe, a wardrobe and a big supply cupboard, you e to the small, dark, stuffy back office. This used to be shared by Mr. Kugler and Mr. van Daan, but now Mr. Kugler is its only oct. Mr. Kuglers office also be reached from the hallway, but only through a gss door that be opened from the i not easily from the outside. If you leave Mr. Kuglers offid proceed through the long, narrow hallast the coal bin and go up four steps, you find yourself in the private office, the showpiece of the entire building. Elegant mahogany furniture, a linoleum floor covered with thrs, a radio, a fancy mp, everything first ext door is a spacious kit with a hot-water heater and two gas burners, and beside that a bathroom. Thats the sed floor.A wooden staircase leads from the downstairs hallway to the third floor. At the top of the stairs is a nding, with doors oher side. The door on the left takes you up to the spice ste area, attid loft in the front part of the house. A typically Dutch, very steep, awisting flight of stairs also runs from the front part of the house to another door opening onto the street.The door to the right of the nding leads to the "Secret Annex" at the back ofthe house. No one would ever suspect there were so many rooms behind that pin gray door. Theres just one small step in front of the door, and then youre iraight ahead of you is a steep flight of stairs. To the left is a narrow hallening onto a room that serves as the Frank familys living [I MAP HERE]room and bedroom. door is a smaller room, the )edroom and study of the two young dies of the family. ro the right of the stairs is a windowless washroom. with a link. The door in the er leads to the toilet and another oots and my room. If you go up the itairs and open the door at the top, youre surprised to see such a rge, light and spacious room in an old alside house like this. It tains a stove (thanks to the fact hat it used to be Mr. Kuglers boratory) and a sink.This will be the kit and bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. van Daan, as well as the general living room, dining room and study for us all. A tiny side room is to be Peter van Daans bedroom. Then, just as in the front part of the building, theres an attid a loft. So there you are. Now Ive introduced you to the whole of our lovely Annex!Yours, AnneFRIDAY, JULY 10, 1942Dearest Kitty, Ive probably bored you with my long description of our house, but I still think you should know where Ive ended up; how I ended up here is something youll figure out from my letters.But first, let me tinue my story, because, as you know, I wasnt finished. After we arrived at 263 Prinsengracht, Miep quickly led us through the long hallway and up the wooden staircase to the floor and into the Annex. She shut the door behind us, leaving us alone. Margot had arrived much earlier on her bike and was waiting for us.Our living room and all the other rooms were so full of stuff that I t find the words to describe it. All the cardboard boxes that had beeo the offi the st few months were piled on the floors and beds. The small room was filled from floor to g with linens. If we wao sleep in properly made beds that night, we had to get going and straighten up the mess. Mother and Margot were uo move a muscle. They y down on their bare mattresses, tired, miserable and I dont know what else. But Father and I, the two er-uppers in the family, started in right away.All day long we unpacked boxes, filled cupboards, hammered nails and straightened up the mess, until we fell exhausted into our beds at night. We haden a hot meal all day, but we didnt care; Mother and Margot were too tired and keyed up to eat, and Father and I were too busy.Tuesday m we started where we left off the night before. Bep and Miep went grocery shopping with our ration coupons, Father worked on our bckout ss, we scrubbed the kit floor, and were once again busy from sunup to sundown. Until Wednesday, I didnt have a ce to think about the enormous ge in my life.Then for the first time since our arrival in the Secret Annex, I found a moment to tell you all about it and to realize what had happeo me and what was yet to happen.Yours, AURDAY, JULY 11, 1942Dearest Kitty,Father, Mother and Margot still t get used to the chiming of the Westertoren clock, which tells us the time every quarter of an hour. Not me, I liked it from the start; it sounds so reassuring, especially at night. You no doubt want to hear what I think of being in hiding. Well, all I say is that I dont really know yet. I dont think Ill ever feel at home in this house, but that doesnt mean I hate it. Its more like being on vacation in some strange pension. Kind of an odd way to look at life in hiding, but thats how things are. The Annex is an ideal pce to hide in. It may be damp and lopsided, but theres probably not a more fortable hiding p all of Amsterdam. No, in all of Holnd.Up to now our bedroom, with its bnk walls, was very bare. Thanks to Father -- whht my entire postcard and movie-star colle here beforehand -- and to a brush and a pot of glue, I was able to pster the walls with pictures. It looks much more cheerful. When the van Daans arrive, well be able to build cupboards and other odds and ends out of the wood piled iic.Margot and Mother have recovered somewhat. Yesterday Mother felt well enough to cook split-pea soup for the first time, but then she was downstairstalking and fot all about it. The beans were scorched bck, and no amount of scraping could get them out of the pan.Last night the four of us went down to the private offid listeo Engnd on the radio. I was so scared someone might hear it that I literally begged Father to take me back upstairs. Mother uood my ay a with me. Whatever we do, were very afraid the neighbors might hear or see us. We started off immediately the first day sewing curtains. Actually, you hardly call them that, siheyre nothing but scraps of fabric, varying greatly in shape, quality and pattern, which Father and I stitched crookedly together with unskilled fingers. These works of art were tacked tothe windows, where theyll stay until we e out of hiding.The building on ht is a branch of the Keg pany, a firm from Zaandam, and on the left is a furniture workshop. Though the people who work there are not on the premises after hours, any sound we make might travel through the walls. Weve forbidden Margot to cough at night, even though she has a bad cold, and are giving her rge doses of codeine.Im looking forward to the arrival of the van Daans, which is set for Tuesday. It will be much more fun and also not as quiet. You see, its the silehat makes me so nervous during the evenings and nights, and Id give anything to have one of our helpers sleep here.Its really not that bad here, since we do our own cooking and listen to the radio in Daddys office.Mr. Kleiman and Miep, and Bep Voskuijl too, have helped us so much. Weve already ed loads of rhubarb, strawberries and cherries, so for the time being I doubt well be bored. We also have a supply of reading material, and were going to buy lots of games. Of course, we t ever look out the windo outside. And we have to be quiet so the people downstairs t hear us.Yesterday we had our hands full. We had to pit two crates of cherries for Mr. Kugler to . Were going to use the empty crates to make bookshelves.Someones calling me.Yours, AnneENT ADDED BY ANNE OEMBER 2g, 1942: Not beina able to ao outside upsets me more than I say, and Im terrified our hidina pce will be discovered and that well be shot. That, of course, is a fairly dismal prospect.SUNDAY, JULY 12, 1942Theyve all been so o me this st month because of my birthday, a every day I feel myself drifting further away from Mother and Margot. I worked hard t九_九_藏_書_網oday and they praised me, only to start pig on me again five mier.You easily see the differeween the way they deal with Margot and the way they deal with me. For example, Margot broke the vacuum er, and because ofthat weve been without light for the rest of the day. Mother said, "Well, Margot, its easy to see youre not used t; otherwise, youd have knower than to yank the plug out by the cord." Margot made some reply, and that was the end of the story.But this afternoon, when I wao rewrite something on Mothers shopping list because her handwriting is so hard to read, she would me. She bawled me out again, and the whole family wound up getting involved.I dont fit in with them, and Ive felt that clearly i few weeks. Theyre so seal together, but Id rather be seal on my own. Theyre always saying how is with the four of us, and that we get along so well, without giving a moments thought to the fact that I dohat way.Daddys the only one who uands me, now and again, though he usually sides with Mother and Margot. Ahing I t stand is having them talk about me in front of outsiders, telling them how I cried or how sensibly Im behaving. Its horrible.And sometimes they talk about Moortje and I t take that at all. Moortje is my ot. I miss her every minute of the day, and no one knows how often I think of her; whenever I do, my eyes fill with tears. Moortje is so sweet, and I love her so much that I keep dreaming shell e back to us.I have plenty of dreams, but the reality is that well have to stay here until the war is over. We t ever go outside, and the only visitors we have are Miep, her husband Jan, Bep Voskuijl, Mr. Voskuijl, Mr. Kugler, Mr. Kleiman and Mrs. Kleiman, though she hasnt e because she thinks its too dangerous.ENT ADDED BY ANNE IEMBER 1942: Daddys always so nice. He uands me perfectly, and I wish we could have a heart-to-heart talk sometime without my bursting instantly into tears. But apparently that has to do with my age.Id like to spend all my time writing, but that would probably get b.Up to now Ive only fided my thoughts to my diary. I still havent gotten around to writing amusing sketches that I could read aloud at a ter date. Iure Im going to devote less time to seality and more time to reality.