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eep in properly made beds that night； we had to get going and straighten up the mess。 mother and margot were unable to move a muscle。 they lay down on their bare mattresses； tired； miserable and i dont know what else。 but father and i； the two cleaner…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 clean beds at night。 we hadnt eaten 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 morning we started where we left off the night before。 bep and miep went grocery shopping with our ration coupons； father worked on our blackout screens； we scrubbed the kitchen floor； and were once again busy from sunup to sundown。 until wednesday； i didnt have a chance to think about the enormous change 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 happened to me and what was yet to happen。
yours； anne
saturday； july 11； 1942
dearest kitty；
father； mother and margot still cant 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 can 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 place to hide in。 it may be damp and lopsided； but theres probably not a more fortable hiding place in all of amsterdam。 no； in all of holland。
up to now our bedroom； with its blank walls； was very bare。 thanks to father who brought my entire postcard and movie…star collection here beforehand and to a brush and a pot of glue； i was able to plaster 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 in the attic。
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 forgot all about it。 the beans were scorched black； and no amount of scraping could get them out of the pan。
last night the four of us went down to the private office and listened to england on the radio。 i was so scared someone might hear it that i literally begged father to take me back upstairs。 mother understood my anxiety and went 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 can hardly call them that； since theyre 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 to
the windows； where theyll stay until we e out of hiding。
the building on our right 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 large 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 silence that 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 can do our own cooking and can listen to the radio in daddys office。
mr。 kleiman and miep； and bep voskuijl too； have helped us so much。 weve already canned 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 cant ever look out the window or go outside。 and we have to be quiet so the people downstairs cant hear us。
yesterday we had our hands full。 we had to pit two crates of cherries for mr。 kugler to can。 were going to use the empty crates to make bookshelves。
someones calling me。
yours； anne
ment added by anne on september 2g； 1942： not beina able to ao outside upsets me more than i can say； and im terrified our hidina place will be discovered and that well be shot。 that； of course； is a fairly dismal prospect。
sunday； july 12； 1942
theyve all been so nice to me this last month because of my birthday； and yet every day i feel myself drifting further away from mother and margot。 i worked hard today and they praised me； only to start picking on me again five minutes later。
you can easily see the difference between the way they deal with margot and the way they deal with me。 for example； margot broke the vacuum cleaner； and because of
that weve been without light for the rest of the day。 mother said； 〃well； margot； its easy to see youre not used to working； otherwise； youd have known better 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 wanted to rewrite something on mothers shopping list because her handwriting is so hard to read； she wouldnt let 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 in the last few weeks。 theyre so sentimental together； but id rather be sentimental on my own。 theyre always saying how nice it is with the four of us； and that we get along so well； without giving a moments thought to the fact that i dont feel that way。
daddys the only one who understands me； now and again； though he usually sides with mother and margot。 another thing i cant 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 cant take that at all。 moortje is my weak spot。 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 cant ever go outside； and the only visitors we can 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。
ment added by anne in september 1942： daddys always so nice。 he understands 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 boring。
up to now ive only confided my thoughts to my diary。 i still havent gotten around to writing amusing sketches that i could read aloud at a later date。 in the future im going to devote less time to sentimentality and more time to reality。
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AUGUST； 1942
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friday； august 14； 1942
dear kitty；
ive deserted you for an entire month； but so little has happened that i cant find a
newsworthy item to relate every single day。 the van daans arrived on july 13。 we thought they were ing on the fourteenth； but from the thirteenth to sixteenth the germans were sending out call…up notices right and left and causing a lot of unrest； so they decided it would be safer to leave a day too early than a day too late。
peter van daan arrived at nine…thirty in the morning （while we were still at breakfast）。 peters going on sixteen； a shy； awkward boy whose pany wont amount to much。 mr。 and mrs。 van daan came half an hour later。
much to our amusement； mrs。 van daan was carrying a hatbox with a large chamber pot inside。 〃i just dont feel at home without my chamber pot；〃 she exclaimed； and it was the first item to find a permanent place under the divan。 instead of a chamber pot； mr。 van d。 was lugging a collapsible tea table under his arm。
from the first； we ate our meals together； and after three days it felt as if the seven of us had bee one big family。 naturally； the van daans had much to tell about the week wed been away from civilization。 we were especially interested in what had happened to our apartment and to mr。 goldschmidt。
mr。 van daan filled us in： 〃monday morning at nine； mr。 goldschmidt phoned and asked if i could e over。 i went straightaway and found a very distraught mr。
goldschmidt。 he showed me a note that the frank family had left behind。 as instructed； he was planning to bring the cat to the neighbors； which i agreed was a good idea。 he was afraid the house was going to be searched； so we w=nt through all the rooms； straightening up here and there and clearing the breakfast things off the table。 suddenly i saw a notepad on mrs。 franks desk； with an address in maastricht written on it。 even though i knew mrs。 frank had left it on purpose； i pretended to be surprised and horrified and begged mr。 goldschmidt to burn this incriminating piece of paper。 i swore up and down that i knew nothing about your disappearance； but that the note had given me an idea。 mr。 goldschmidt； i said； i bet i know what this address refers to。 about six months ago a high…ranking officer came to the office。 it seems he and mr。 frank grew up together。 he promised to help mr。 frank if it was ever necessary。 as i recall； he was stationed in maastricht。 i think this officer has kept his word and is somehow planning to help them cross over to belgium and then to switzerland。 theres no harm in telling this to any friends of the franks who e asking about them。 of course； you dont need to mention the part about maastricht。 and after that i left。 this is the story most of your friends have been told； because i heard it later from several other people。鈥�
we thought it was extremely funny； but we laughed even harder when mr。 van daan told us that certain people have vivid imaginations。 for example； one family living on
our square claimed they sawall four of us riding by on our bikes early in the morning； and another woman was absolutely positive wed been loaded into some kind of military vehicle in the middle of the night。
yours； anne
friday； august 21； 1942
dear kitty；
now our secret annex has truly bee secret。
because so many houses are being searched for hidden bicycles； mr。 kugler thought it would be better to have a bookcase built in front of the entrance to our hiding place。
it swings out on its hinges and opens like a door。 mr。 voskuijl did the carpentry work。
（mr。 voskuijl has been told that the seven of us are in hiding； and hes been most helpful。）
now whenever we want to go downstairs we have to duck and then jump。 after the first three days we were all walking around with bumps on our foreheads from banging our heads against the low doorway。 then peter cushioned it by nailing a towel stuffed with wood shavings to the doorframe。 lets see if it helps！
im not doing much schoolwork。 ive given myself a vacation until september。 father wants to start tutoring me then； but we have to buy all the books first。
theres little change in our lives here。 peters hair was washed today； but thats nothing special。 mr。 van daan and i are always at loggerheads with each other。 mama always treats me like a baby； which i cant stand。 for the rest； things are going better。 i dont think peters gotten any nicer。 hes an obnoxious boy who lies around on his bed all day； only rousing himself to do a little carpentry work before returning to his nap。 what a dope！
mama gave me another one of her dreadful sermons this morning。 we take the opposite view of everything。 daddys a sweetheart； he may get mad at me； but it never lasts longer than five minutes。
its a beautiful day outside； nice and hot； and in spite of everything； we make the most of the weather by lounging on the folding bed in the attic。
yours； anne
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