Leading citizens — innocent people — are taken prisoner to await theirexecution. If the Gestapo can’t find the saboteur, they simply grab fivehostages and line them up against the wall. You read the announcements oftheir death in the paper, where they’re referred to as “fatal accidents.’Fine specimens of humanity, those Germans, and to think I’m actually one ofthem! No, that’s not true, Hitler took away our nationality long ago. Andbesides, there are no greater enemies on earth than the Germans and the Jews.Yours, AnneWEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1942Dear Kitty,I’m terribly busy. Yesterday I began by translating a chapter from La BelleNivemaise and writing down vocabulary words. Then I worked on an awfulmath problem and translated three pages of French grammar besides. Today,French grammar and history. I simply refuse to do that wretched math everyday. Daddy thinks it’s awful too.I’m almost better at it than he is, though in fact neither of us is any good, sowe always have to call on Margot’s help. I’m also working away at myshorthand, which I enjoy.Of the three of us, I’ve made the most progress.I’ve read The Storm Family. It’s quite good, but doesn’t compare to Joop terHeul. Anyway, the same words can be found in both books, which makessense because they’re written by the same author. Cissy van Marxveldt is aterrific writer.I’m definitely going to let my own children read her books too.Moreover, I’ve read a lot of Korner plays. I like the way he writes. Forexample, Hedwig, The Cousin from Bremen, The Governess, The GreenDomino, etc.Mother, Margot and I are once again the best of buddies.It’s actually a lot nicer that way. Last night Margot and I were lying side byside in my bed. It was incredibly cramped, but that’s what made it fun. Sheasked if she could read my diary once in a while.”Parts of it,” I said, and asked about hers. She gave me permission to read herdiary as well.The conversation turned to the future, and I asked what she wanted to bewhen she was older. But she wouldn’t say and was quite mysterious about it. Igathered it had something to do with teaching; of course, I’m not absolutelysure, but I suspect it’s something along those lines. I really shouldn’t be sonosy.This morning I’lay on Peter’s bed, after first having chased him off it. He wasfurious, but I didn’t care. He might consider being a little more friendly to mefrom time to time. After all, I did give him an apple last night.I once asked Margot if she thought I was ugly. She said that I was cute andhad nice eyes. A little vague, don’t you think?Well, until next time!Anne FrankPS. This morning we all took turns on the scale. Margot now weighs 132pounds, Mother 136, Father 155, Anne 96, Peter 14g, Mrs. van Daan 117,Mr. van Daan 165. In the three months since I’ve been here, I’ve gained 19pounds. A lot, huh?TUESDAY, OCTOBER 20, 1942Dearest Kitty,My hand’s still shaking, though it’s been two hours since we had the scare. Ishould explain that there are five fire extinguishers in the building. The officestaff stupidly forgot to warn us that the carpenter, or whatever he’s called,was coming to fill the extinguishers. As a result, we didn’t bother to be quietuntil I heard the sound of hammering on the landing (across from thebookcase). I immediately assumed it was the carpenter and went to warn Bep,who was eating lunch, that she couldn’t go back downstairs. Father and Istationed ourselves at the door so we could hear when the man had left. Afterworking for about fifteen minutes, he laid his hammer and some other toolson our bookcase (or so we thought!) and banged on our door. We turnedwhite with fear. Had he heard something after all and now wanted to checkout this mysterious-looking bookcase? It seemed so, since he kept knocking,pulling, pushing and jerking on it.I was so scared I nearly fainted at the thought of this total stranger managingto discover our wonderful hiding place. Just when I thought my days werenumbered, we heard Mr. Kleiman’s voice saying, “Open up, it’s me.” Weopened the door at once. What had happened?The hook fastening the bookcase had gotten stuck, which is why no one hadbeen able to warn us about the carpenter.After the man had left, Mr. Kleiman came to get Bep, but couldn’t open thebookcase. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. In my imagination, the man Ithought was trying to get inside the Secret Annex had kept growing andgrowing until he’d become not only a giant but also the cruelest Fascist in theworld. Whew. Fortunately, everything worked out all right, at least this time.We had lots of fun on Monday. Miep and Jan spent the night with us. Margotand I slept in Father and Mother’s room for the night so the Gieses could haveour beds. The menu was drawn up in their honor, and the meal was delicious.The festivities were briefly interrupted when Father’s lamp caused a shortcircuit and we were suddenly plunged into darkness. What were we to do?We did have fuses, but the fuse box was at the rear of the dark warehouse,which made this a particularly unpleasant job at night. Still, the men venturedforth, and ten minutes later we were able to put away the candles.I was up early this morning. Jan was already dressed.Since he had to leave at eight-thirty, he was upstairs eating breakfast by eight.Miep was busy getting dressed, and I found her in her undershirt when I camein. She wears the same kind of long underwear I do when she bicycles.Margot and I threw on our clothes as well and were upstairs earlier thanusual. After a pleasant breakfast, Miep headed downstairs. It was pouringoutside and she was glad she didn’t have to bicycle to work. Daddy and Imade the beds, and afterward I learned five irregular French verbs. Quiteindustrious, don’t you think?Margot and Peter were reading in our room, with Mouschi curled up besideMargot on the divan. After my irregular French verbs, I joined them and readThe Woods Are Singingfor All Eternity. It’s quite a beautiful book, but veryunusual.I’m almost finished.Next week it’s Bep’s turn to spend the night.Yours, AnneTHURSDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1942My dearest Kitty,I’m very worried. Father’s sick. He’s covered with spots and has a hightemperature. It looks like measles. Just think, we can’t even call a doctor!Mother is making him perspire in hopes of sweating out the fever.This morning Miep told us that the furniture has been removed from the vanDaans’ apartment on Zuider-Amstellaan.We haven’t told Mrs. van D. yet. She’s been so”nervenmassig”* *nervous lately, and we don’t feel like hearing her moanand groan again about all the beautiful china and lovely chairs she had toleave behind. We had to abandon most of our nice things too. What’s thegood of grumbling about it now?Father wants me to start reading books by Hebbel and other well-knownGerman writers. I can read German fairly well by now, except that I usuallymumble the words instead of reading them silently to myself. But that’ll pass.Father has taken the plays of Goethe and Schiller down from the bigbookcase and is planning to read to me every evening. We’ve started off withDon Carlos. Encouraged by Father’s good example, Mother pressed herprayer book into my hands. I read a few prayers in German, just to be polite.They certainly sound beautiful, but they mean very little to me. Why is shemaking me act so religious and devout?Tomorrow we’re going to light the stove for the first time. The chimney hasn’tbeen swept in ages, so the room is bound to fill with smoke. Let’s hope thething draws!Yours, AnneMONDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 1942Dear Kitty,Bep stayed with us Friday evening. It was fun, but she didn’t sleep very wellbecause she’d drunk some wine. For the rest, there’s nothing special to report.I had an awful headache yesterday and went to bed early. Margot’s beingexasperating again.This morning I began sorting out an index card file from the office, becauseit’d fallen over and gotten all mixed up.Before long I was going nuts. I asked Margot and Peter to help, but they weretoo lazy, so I put it away.I’m not crazy enough to do it all by myself!Anne FrankPS. I forgot to mention the important news that I’m probably going to get myperiod soon. I can tell because I keep finding a whitish smear in my panties,and Mother predicted it would start soon. I can hardly wait. It’s such amomentous event. Too bad I can’t use sanitary napkins, but you can’t getthem anymore, and Mama’s tampons can be used only by women who’ve hada baby. iCOMMENT ADDED BY ANNE ON JANUARY 22, 1944: I wouldn’t beable to write that kind of thing anymore.Now that I’m rereading my diary after a year and a half, I’m surprised at mychildish innocence. Deep down I know I could never be that innocent again,however much I’d like to be. I can understand the mood chanaes and thecomments about Margot, Mother and Father as if I’d written them onlyyesterday, but I can’t imagine writina so openly about other matters. Itembarrasses me areatly to read the panes dealina with subjects that Iremembered as beina nicer than they actually were. My descriptions are soindelicate. But enouah of that.I can also understand my homesickness and yearning for Moortje. The wholetime I’ve been here I’ve longed unconsciously and at times consciously fortrust, love and physical affection. This longing may change in intensity, butit’s always there.THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 1942Dear Kitty,The British have finally scored a few successes in Africa and Stalingradhasn’t fallen yet, so the men are happy and we had coffee and tea thismorning. For the rest, nothing special to report.This week I’ve been reading a lot and doing little work.That’s the way things ought to be. That’s surely the road to success.Mother and I are getting along better lately, but we’re never close. Father’snot very open about his feelings, but he’s the same sweetheart he’s alwaysbeen. We lit the stove a few days ago and the entire room is still filled withsmoke.I prefer central heating, and I’m probably not the only one.Margot’s a stinker (there’s no other word for it), a constant source of irritation,morning, noon and night.Anne Frank