MONDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1942Dear Kitty,Bep stayed with us Friday evening. It was fun, but she didnt sleep very well because shed drunk some wine. For the rest, theres nothing special to report. I had an awful headache yesterday ao bed early. Margots being exasperating again.This m I began s out an index card file from the office, because itd fallen over and gotten all mixed up. Before long I was going nuts. I asked Margot aer to help, but they were too zy, so I put it away.Im not crazy enough to do it all by myself!Anne FrankPS. I fot to mention the importahat Im probably going to get my period soon. I tell because I keep finding a whitish smear in my panties, and Mother predicted it would start soon. I hardly wait. Its such a momentous event. Too bad I t use sanitary napkins, but you t get them anymore, and Mamas tampons be used only by women whove had a baby. i ENT ADDED BY ANNE ON JANUARY 22, 1944: I wouldnt be able to write that kind of thing anymore.Now that Im rereading my diary after a year and a half, Im surprised at my childish innoce. Deep down I know I could never be that i again, however much Id like to be. I uand the mood aes and the ents about Margot, Mother and Father as if Id written them only yesterday, but I t imagine writina so openly about other matters. It embarrasses me areatly to read the panes dealina with subjects that I remembered as beina han they actually were. My descriptions are so indelicate. But enouah of that.I also uand my homesiess and yearning for Moortje. The whole time Ive been here Ive longed unsciously and at times sciously for trust, love andphysical affe. This longing may ge in iy, but its always there.THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1942Dear Kitty,The British have finally scored a few successes in Afrid Stalingrad hasnt falle, so the men are happy and we had coffee ahis m. For the rest, nothing special to report.This week Ive been reading a lot and doing little work. Thats the way things ought to be. Thats surely the road to success.Mother and I are getting aloer tely, but were never close. Fathers not very open about his feelings, but hes the same sweetheart hes always bee the stove a few days ago and the entire room is still filled with smoke. I prefer tral heating, and Im probably not the only one. Margots a stiheres no other word for it), a stant source of irritation, m, noon and night.Anne FrankSATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 1942Dearest Kitty,Mothers nerves are very mu edge, and that doesnt bode well for me. Is it just a ce that Father and Mother never sargot and always bme me for everything? Last night, for example, Margot was reading a book with beautiful illustrations; she got up and put the book aside for ter. I wasnt doing anything, so I picked it up and began looking at the pictures. Margot e back, saw "her" book in my hands, knitted her brow and angrily demahe book back. I wao look through it some more. Margot got madder by the minute, and Mother butted in:"Margot was reading that book; give it back to her.”Father came in, and without even knowing what was going on, saw that Margot was being wronged and shed out at me: "Id like to see what youd do if Margot was looking at one of your books!”I promptly gave in, put the book down and, acc to them, left the room in a huff." I was her huffy nor cross, but merely sad.It wasnt right of Father to pass judgment without knowing what the issue was. I would have given the book tot myself, and a lot sooner, if Father and Mother hadnt intervened and rushed to take Margots part, as if she were suffering some great injustice.Of course, Mother took Margots side; they always take each others sides. Im so used to it that Ive bee pletely indifferent to Mothers rebukes and Margots moodiness. I love them, but only because theyre Mother and Margot. I dont give a darn about them as people. As far as Im ed, they go jump in a ke. Its different with Father. When I see him being partial tot, approving Margots every a, praising her, hugging her, I feel a gnawing ache inside, because Im crazy about him. I model myself after Father, and theres no one in the world I love more.He doesnt realize that he treats Margot differently than he does me: Margot just happens to be the smartest, the ki, the prettiest and the best. But I have a right to be taken seriously too. Ive always been the and mischief maker of the family; Ive always had to pay double for my sins: oh scoldings and then again with my own sense of despair. Im no longer satisfied with the meaningless affe or the supposedly serious talks. I long for something from Father that hes incapable of giving. Im not jealous of Margot; I never have been. Im not envious of her brains or her beauty. Its just that Id like to feel that Father really loves me, not because Im his child, but because Im me, Anne.I g to Father because my pt of Mother is growing daily and its only through him that Im able to retai ounce of family feeling I have left. He doesnt uand that I sometimes o vent my feelings for Mother. He doesnt want to talk about it, and he avoids any discussion involving Mothers failings. A Mother, with all her shortings, is tougher for me to deal with. I dont know how I should act. I t very well front her with her carelessness, her sarcasm and her hard-heartedness, yet I t tio take the bme for everything.Im the opposite of Mother, so of course we csh. I doo judge her; I dont have that right. Im simply looking at her as a mother. Shes not a mother to me -- I have to mother myself. Ive cut myself adrift from them. Im charting my own course, and well see where it leads me. I have no choice, because I picture what a mother and a wife should be and t seem to find anything of the sort in the woman Im supposed to call "Mother.”I tell myself time and again to overlook Mothers bad example. I only want to see her good points, and to look inside myself for whats g in her. But it doesnt work, and the worst part is that Father and Mother dont realize their own inadequacies and how much I bme them for letting me down. Are there any parents who maketheir children pletely happy?Sometimes I think God is trying to test me, both now and iure. Ill have t9９lｉｂ?o bee a good person on my own, without ao serve as a model or advise me, but itll make me stronger in the end.Who else but me is ever going to read these letters? Who else but me I turn to for fort? Im frequently in need of sotion, I often feel weak, and more often than not, I fail to meet expectations. I know this, and every day I resolve to do better.They arent sistent ireatment of me. One day they say that Annes a sensible girl aled to know everything, and the hat Annes a silly goose who doesnt know a thing a imagines shes learned all she o know from books! Im no lohe baby and spoiled little darling whose every deed be ughed at. I have my own ideas, pns and ideals, but am uo articute them yet.Oh well. So mues into my head at night when Im alone, or during the day when Im obliged to put up with people I t abide or who invariably misinterpret my iions. Thats why I always wind up ing bay diary -- I start there ahere because Kittys alatient. I promise her that, despite everything, Ill keep going, that Ill find my own way and choke back my tears. I only wish I could see some results or, just once, receive encement from someone who loves me.Dont n me, but think of me as a person who sometimes reaches the bursting point!Yours, AnneMONDAY, NOVEMBER 9,1942Dearest Kitty,Yesterday eters birthday, his sixteenth. I stairs by eight, aer and I looked at his presents. He received a game of Monopoly, a razor and a cigarette lighter. Not that he smokes so muot at all; it just looks so distinguished.The biggest surprise came from Mr. van Daan, who reported at ohat the English had nded in Tunis, Algiers, Casabnd Oran."This is the beginning of the end," everyone was saying, but Churchill, the British Prime Minister, who must have heard the same thing beied in Engnd, decred, "This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning." Do you see the difference? However, theres reason for optimism. Stalingrad, the Russian city that has been utack for three months, still hasnt fallen into German hands.Irue spirit of the Annex, I should talk to you about food. (I should expin that theyre real gluttons up oop floor.)Bread is delivered daily by a very nice baker, a friend of Mr. Kleimans. Of course, we dont have as much as we did at home, but its enough. We also purchase ration books on the bck market. The price keeps going up; its already risen from 27 to 33 guilders. And that for mere sheets of printed paper!To provide ourselves with a source of nutrition that will keep, aside from the hundred s of food weve stored here, we bought three hundred pounds of beans. Not just for us, but for the office staff as well. Wed hung the sacks of beans on hooks in the hallway, just inside our secret entrance, but a few seams split uhe weight. So we decided to move them to the attid Peter was entrusted with the heavy lifting.He mao get five of the six sacks upstairs intad was busy with the st one when the sack broke and a flood, or rather a hailstorm, of brown bea flying through the air and dowairs. Sihere were about fifty pounds of beans in that sack, it made enough o raise the dead. Downstairs they were sure the house was falling down around their heads. Peter was stunned, but then burst into peals of ughter when he saw me standing at the bottom of the stairs, like an isnd in a sea of brown, with waves of beans pping at my ankles. We promptly began pig them up, but beans are so small and slippery that they roll into every ceivable er and hole. Now each time we go upstairs, we bend over and hunt around so resent Mrs. van Daan with a handful of beans.I almost fot to mention that Father has recovered from his illness.Yours, AnneP.S. The radio has just annouhat Algiers has fallen. Morocco, Casabnd Oran have been in English hands for several days. Were now waiting for Tunis.TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1942Dearest Kitty,Great news! Were pnning to take ah person into hiding with us!Yes, really. We always thought there was enough room and food for one more person, but we were afraid of pg an eveer burden on Mr. Kugler and Mr. Kleiman.But since reports of the dreadful things being doo the Jews are getting worse by the day, Father decided to sound out these two gentlemen, and they thought it was an excellent pn. "Its just as dangerous, whether there are seven ht," they noted rightly. Ohis was settled, we sat down aally went through our circle of acquaintarying to e up with a single person who would blend in well with our extended family. This wasnt difficult. After Father had rejected all the van Daaives, we chose a dentist named Alfred Dussel. He lives with a charming Christian dy whos quite a bit youhan he is. Theyre probably not married, but thats beside the point. Hes known to be quiet and refined, and he seemed, from our superficial acquaintah him, to be nice. Miep knows him as well, so shell be able to make the necessary arras. If he es, Mr. Dussel will have to sleep in my room instead of Margot, who will have to make do with the folding bed.* [*After Dussel arrived, Margot slept in her parents bedroom.] Well ask him t along something to fill cavities with.Yours, AHURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1942Dearest Kitty,Miep came to tell us that shed been to see Dr. Dussel. He asked her the moment she ehe room if she knew of a hiding pd was enormously pleased when Miep said she had something in mind. She added "that hed o go into hiding as soon as possible, preferably Saturday, but he thought this was highly improbable, since he wa his records up to date, settle his ats and attend to a couple of patients. Miep reyed the message to us this m. We didnt think it was wise to wait so long. All these preparations require expnations to various people who we feel ought to be kept in the dark. Miep went to ask if Dr. Dussel couldnt mao e on Saturday after all, but he said no, and now hes scheduled to arrive on Monday.I think its odd that he doesnt jump at our proposal. If they pick him up oreet, it wont help either his records or his patients, so why the dey? If you askme, its stupid of Father to humor him.Otherwise, no news.Yours, AUESDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 1942Dearest Kitty!Mr. Dussel has arrived. Everythi smoothly. Miep told him to be at a certain p front of the post office at 11 A.M., when a man would meet him, and he was at the appointed pce at the appoiime. Mr. Kleima up to him, annouhat the man he was expeg to meet was uo e and asked him to drop by the office to see Miep. Mr. Kleiman took a streetcar back to the office while Mr.Dussel followed on foot.It was elevey when Mr. Dussel tapped on the office door. Miep asked him to remove his coat, so the yellow star couldnt be seen, and brought him to the private office, where Mr. Kleima him occupied until the ing dy had gone. On the pretext that the private office was needed for something else, Miep took Mr. Dussel upstairs, opehe bookcase and stepped inside, while Mr. Dussellooked on in amazement.In the meahe seven of us had seated ourselves around the dining table to await the test addition to our family with coffee and ac. Miep first led him into the Frank familys room. He immediately reized our furniture, but had no idea we were upstairs, just above his head. Wheold him, he was so astonished he nearly faihank goodness she didnt leave him in suspense any longer, but brought him upstairs. Mr. Dussel sank into a chair and stared at us in dumbstruck silence, as though he thought he could read the truth on our faces. Theuttered, "Aber . . . but are you nicht in Belgium? The officer, the auto, they were not ing?Your escape was not w?”We expihe whole thing to him, about how wed deliberately spread the rumor of the officer and the car to throw the Germans and anyone else who might e looking for us off the track. Mr. Dussel eechless in the face of sugenuity, and could do nothing but gaze around in surprise as he explored the rest of our lovely and ultrapractical Annex. We all had lunch together. Theook a short nap, joined us for tea, put away the few belongings Miep had been able t here in advand began to feel much more at home. Especially when we handed him the followingtypewritten rules aions for the Secret Annex (a van Daan produ):PROSPECTUS AND GUIDE TO THE SECRET ANNEX A Unique Facility for the Temporary Aodation of Jews and Other Dispossessed Persons Open all year round: Located iiful, quiet, wooded surroundings in the heart of Amsterdam. No private residences in the viity. be reached by streetcar 13 or 17 and also by car and bicycle. For those to whom such transportation has been forbidden by the German authorities, it also be reached on foot. Furnished and unfurnished rooms and apartments are avaible at all times, with or without meals.Price: Free.Diet: Low-fat.Runnina water ihroom (sorry, no bath) and on various inside and outside walls. Cozy wood stoves for heating.Ample ste space for a variety of goods. Twe, modern safes.Private radio with a direct lio London, New York, Tel Aviv and many other stations. Avaible to all residents after 6 P.M. No listening to forbidden broadcasts, with certain exceptions, i.e., German stations may only be tuned in to listen to cssical music. It is absolutely forbidden to listen to German news bulletins (regardless of where they are transmitted from) and to pass them on to others.Rest hours: From 10 P.M. to 7:30 A.M.; 10:15 A.M. on Sundays. Owing to circumstances, residents are required to observe rest hours during the daytime when instructed to do so by the Ma. To ehe safety of all, rest hours must be strictly observed!!!Free-time activities: None allowed outside the house until further notice.Use of nguage: It is necessary to speak softly at all times. Only the nguage of civilized people may be spoken, thus no German.Reading aion: No German books may be read, except for the cssid works of a schorly nature. Other books are optional.Calisthenics: Daily.Singing: Only softly, and after 6 P.M.Movies: Priements required.Csses: A weekly correspondence course in shorthand. Courses in English, French, math and history offered at any hour of the day ht. Payment in the form of tut, e.g., Dutch.Separate department for the care of small household pets (with the exception of vermin, for which special permits are required).Mealtimes:Breakfast: At 9 A.M. daily except holidays and Sundays; at approximately 11:30 A.M.on Sundays and holidays.Lunch: A light meal. From 1:15 P.M. to 1:45 P.M.Dinner: Mayor not be a hot meal.Mealtime depends on news broadcasts.Obligations with respect to the Supply Corps: Residents must be prepared to help with office work at all times. Baths: The washtub is avaible to all residents after 9 A.M.on Sundays. Residents may bathe ihroom, kit, private office or front office, as they choose.Alcohol: For medial purposes only.The end.Yours, AHURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 1942Dearest Kitty,Just as we thought, Mr. Dussel is a very nice man. Of course he didnt mind sharing aroom with me; to be ho, Im ly delighted at having a stranger use my things, but you have to make sacrifices food cause, and Im gd I make this small one. "If we save even one of our friends, the rest doesnt matter," said Father, and hes absolutely right.The first day Mr. Dussel was here, he asked me all sorts of questions -- for example, what time the ing dy es to the office, how weve arrao use the washroom and when were allowed to go to the toilet. You may ugh, but these things arent so easy in a hiding pce. During the daytime we t make any hat might be heard downstairs, and when someone else is there, like the ing dy, we have to be extra careful. I patiently expined all this to Mr. Dussel, but I was surprised to see how slow he is to cat. He asks everything twid still t remember what youve told him.Maybe hes just fused by the sudden ge and hell get over it. Otherwise, everything is going fine.Mr. Dussel has told us much about the outside world weve missed for so long. He had sad news. tless friends and acquaintances have been taken off to a dreadful fate. Night after night, green and gray military vehicles cruise the streets. They kno every door, asking whether any Jews live there. If so, the whole family is immediately taken away. If not, they proceed to the house. Its impossible to escape their clutches unless you go into hiding. They often go around with lists, knog only on those doors where they know theres a big haul to be made. They frequently offer a bounty, so much per head. Its like the sve hunts of the olden days. I doo make light ofthisj its much tic for that. In the evenings when its dark, I often see long lines of good, i people, apanied by g children, walking on and on, ordered about by a handful of men who bully ahem until they nearly drop. No one is spared. The sick, the elderly, children, babies and pregnant women -- all are marched to their death.Were so fortunate here, away from the turmoil. We wouldnt have to give a moments thought to all this suffering if it werent for the fact that were so worried about those we hold dear, whom we o longer help. I feel wicked sleeping in a warm bed, while somewhere out there my dearest friends are dropping from exhaustion or being ko the ground.I get frightened myself when I think of close friends who are now at the mercy of the cruelest monsters ever to stalk the earth.And all because theyre Jews.Yours, AnneFRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1942Dearest Kitty,We dont really know how to react. Up to now very little news about the Jews had reached us here, ahought it best to stay as cheerful as possible. Every now and then Miep used to mention what had happeo a friend, and Mother or Mrs.van Daan would start to cry, so she decided it was better not to say any more. But we bombarded Mr. Dussel with questions, and the stories he had to tell were so gruesome and dreadful that we t get them out of our heads. Once weve had time to digest the news, well probably go back to our usual joking and teasing. It wont do us or those outside any good if we tio be as gloomy as we are now. And what would be the point of turning the Secret Annex into a Mencholy Annex?No matter what Im doing, I t help thinking about those whone. I catch myself ughing and remember that its a disgrace to be so cheerful. But am I supposed to s99lib?he whole day g? No, I t do that. This gloom will pass.Added to this misery theres another, but of a more personal nature, and it pales in parison to the suffering Ive just told you about. Still, I t help telling you that tely Ive begun to feel deserted. Im surrounded by too great a void. I never used to give it much thought, since my mind was filled with my friends and having a good time. Now I thiher about unhappy things or about myself. Its taken a while, but Ive finally realized that Father, no matter how kind he may be, t take the py former world. When it es to my feelings, Mother and Margot ceased to t long ago.But why do I bother you with this foolishness? Im terribly ungrateful, Kitty, I know, but when Ive been scolded for the umpteenth time and have all these other woes to think about as well, my head begins to reel!Yours, AURDAY, NOVEMBER 2g, 1942Dearest Kitty,Weve been using too much electricity and have now exceeded our ration. The result:excessive ey and the prospect of having the electricity cut off. No light for fourteen days; thats a pleasant thought, isnt it? But who knows, maybe it wont be so long! Its too dark to read after four or four-thirty, so we while away the time with all kinds of crazy activities: telling riddles, doing calistheni the dark, speaking English or French, reviewing books -- after a while everythis b. Yesterday I discovered a new pastime: using a good pair of binocurs to peek into the lighted rooms of the neighbors. During the day our curtains t be opened, not even an inch, but theres no harm when its so dark.I never khat neighbors could be so iing. Ours are, at any rate. Ive e across a few at dinner, one family making home movies and the dentist across the way w on a frightened old dy.Mr. Dussel, the man who was said to get along so well with children and to absolutely adore them, has turned out to be an old-fashioned disciplinarian and preacher of unbearably long sermons on manners. Since I have the singur pleasure (!) of sharing my far too narrow room with His Excellency, and since Im generally sidered to be the worst behaved of the three young people, its all I do to avoid having the same old scoldings and admonitioedly flung at my head and to pretend not to hear. This wouldnt be so bad if Mr. Dussel werent such a tattletale and hadnt singled out Mother to be the recipient of his reports. If Mr. Dussels just read me the riot act, Mother lectures me all ain, this time throwing the whole book at me.And if Im really lucky, Mrs. van D. calls me to at five mier and ys down the w as well!Really, its not easy being the badly brought-up ter of attention of a family of nitpickers.I night, as I ponder my many sins and exaggerated shortings, I get so fused by the sheer amount of things I have to sider that I either ugh or cry, depending on my mood. Then I fall asleep with the strange feeling of wanting to be different than I am or being different than I want to be, or perhaps of behaving differently than I am or want to be.Oh dear, now Im fusing you too. Five me, but I dont like crossing things out, and iimes of scarcity, tossing aiece of paper is clearly taboo. So I only advise you not to reread the above passage and to make no attempt to get to the bottom of it, because youll never find your way out again!Yours, Anne