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isnt　time　for　me　to　change　into　my　nighty；　i　and　they　have　to　approve　every　book　i　read。　i　must　admit；　theyre　not　at　all　strict　about　that　and　let　me　read　nearly　everything；　but　margot　and　i　are　sick　and　tired　of　having　to　listen　to　their　ments　and　questions　all　day　long。

theres　something　else　that　displeases　them：　i　no　longer　feel　like　giving　them　little　kisses　morning；　noon　and　night。　all　those　cute　nicknames　seem　so　affected；　and　fathers　fondness　for　talking　about　farting　and　going　to　the　bathroom　is　disgusting。　in　short；　id　like　nothing　better　than　to　do　without　their　pany　for　a　while；　and　they　dont　understand　that。　not　that　margot　and　i　have　ever　said　any　of　this　to　them。　what　would　be　the　point？　they　wouldnt　understand　anyway。

margot　said　last　night；　〃what　really　bothers　me　is　that　if　you　happen　to　put　your　head　in　your　hands　and　sigh　once　or　twice；　they　immediately　ask　whether　you　have　a　headache　or　dont　feel　well。鈥�

for　both　of　us；　its　been　quite　a　blow　to　suddenly　realize　that　very　little　remains　of　the　close　and　harmoni…　ous　family　we　used　to　have　at　home！　this　is　mostly　because　everythings　out　of　kilter　here。　by　that　i　mean　that　were　treated　like　children　when　it　es　to　external　matters；　while；　inwardly；　were　much　older　than　other　girls　our　age。

even　though　im　only　fourteen；　i　know　what　i　want；　i　know　whos　right　and　whos　wrong；　i　have　my　own　opinions；　ideas　and　principles；　and　though　it　may　sound　odd　ing　from　a　teenager；　i　feel　im　more　of　a　person　than　a　child　　i　feel　im　pletely　independent　of　others。　i　know　im　better　at　debating　or　carrying　on　a　discussion　than　mother；　i　know　im　more　objective；　i　dont　exaggerate　as　much；　im　much　tidier　and　better　with　my　hands；　and　because　of　that　i　feel　（this　may　make　you　laugh）　that　im　superior　to　her　in　many　ways。　to　love　someone；　i　have　to　admire　and　respect　the　person；　but　i　feel　neither　respect　nor　admiration　for　mother！

everything　would　be　all　right　if　only　i　had　peter；　since　i　admire　him　in　many　ways。

hes　so　decent　and　clever！

yours；　anne　

m。　frank

saturday；　march　18；　1944

dearest　kitty；

ive　told　you　more　about　myself　and　my　feelings　than　ive　ever　told　a　living　soul；　so　why　shouldnt　that　include　sex？

parents；　and　people　in　general；　are　very　peculiar　when　it　es　to　sex。　instead　of　telling　their　sons　and　daughters　everything　at　the　age　of　twelve；　they　send　the　children　out　of　the　room　the　moment　the　subject　arises　and　leave　them　to　find　out　everything　on　their　own。　later　on；　when　parents　notice　that　their　children　have；　somehow；　e　by　their　information；　they　assume　they　know　more　（or　less）　than　they　actually　do。　so　why　dont　they　try　to　make　amends　by　asking　them　whats　what？

a　major　stumbling　block　for　the　adults　　though　in　my　opinion　its　no　more　than　a　pebble　　is　that　theyre　afraid　their　children　will　no　longer　look　upon　marriage　as　sacred　and　pure　once　they　realize　that；　in　most　cases；　this　purity　is　a　lot　of　nonsense。

as　far　as　im　concerned；　its　not　wrong　for　a　man　to　bring　a　little　experience　to　a　marriage。　after　all；　it　has　nothing　to　do　with　the　marriage　itself；　does　it？

soon　after　i　turned　eleven；　they　told　me　about　menstruation。　but　even　then；　i　had　no　idea　where　the　blood　came　from　or　what　it　was　for。　when　i　was　twelve　and　a　half；　i　learned　some　more　from　jacque；　who　wasnt　as　ignorant　as　i　was。　my　own　intuition　told　me　what　a　man　and　a　woman　do　when　theyre　together；　it　seemed　like　a　crazy　idea　at　first；　but　when　jacque　confirmed　it；　i　was　proud　of　myself　for　having　figured　it　out！

it　was　also　jacque　who　told　me　that　children　didnt　e　out　of　their　mothers　tummies。　as　she　put　it；　〃where　the　ingredients　go　in　is　where　the　finished　product　es　out！〃　jacque　and　i　found　out　about　the　hymen；　and　quite　a　few　other　details；　from　a　book　on　sex　education。　i　also　knew　that　you　could　keep　from　having　children；　but　how　that　worked　inside　your　body　remained　a　mystery。　when　i　came　here；　father　told　me　about　prostitutes；　etc。；　but　all　in　all　there　are　still　unanswered　questions。

if　mothers　dont　tell　their　children　everything；　they　hear　it　in　bits　and　pieces；　and　that　cant　be　right。

even　though　its　saturday；　im　not　bored！　thats　because　ive　been　up　in　the　attic　with　peter。　i　sat　there　dreaming　with　my　eyes　closed；　and　it　was　wonderful。

yours；　anne　

m。　frank

sunday；　march　19；　1944

dearest　kitty；

yesterday　was　a　very　important　day　for　me。　after　lunch　everything　was　as　usual。　at　five　i　put　on　the　potatoes；　and　mother　gave　me　some　blood　sausage　to　take　to　peter。

i　didnt　want　to　at　first；　but　i　finally　went。　he　wouldnt　accept　the　sausage；　and　i　had　the　dreadful　feel…　ing　it　was　still　because　of　that　argument　wed　had　about　distrust。

suddenly　i　couldnt　bear　it　a　moment　longer　and　my　eyes　filled　with　tears。　without　another　word；　i　re…　turned　the　platter　to　mother　and　went　to　the　bathroom　to　have　a　good　cry。　afterward　i　decided　to　talk　things　out　with　peter。　before　dinner　the　four　of　us　were　helping　him　with　a　crossword　puzzle；　so　i　couldnt　say　anything。　but　as　we　were　sitting　down　to　eat；　i　whispered　to　him；　〃are　you　going　to　practice　your　shorthand　tonight；　peter？鈥�

〃no；〃　was　his　reply。

〃id　like　to　talk　to　you　later　on。鈥�

he　agreed。

after　the　dishes　were　done；　i　went　to　his　room　and　asked　if　hed　refused　the　sausage　because　of　our　last　quar…　rel。　luckily；　that　wasnt　the　reason；　he　just　thought　it　was　bad　manners　to　seem　so　eager。　it　had　been　very　hot　downstairs　and　my　face　was　as　red　as　a　lobster。　so　after　taking　down　some　water　for　margot；　i　went　back　up　to　get　a　little　fresh　air。　for　the　sake　of　appearances；　i　first　went　and　stood　beside　the　van　daans　window　before　going　to　peters　room。　he　was　standing　on　the　left　side　of　the　open　window；　so　i　went　over　to　the　right　side。　its　much　easier　to　talk　next　to　an　open　window　in　semidarkness　than　in　broad　daylight；　and　i　think　peter　felt　the　same　way。　we　told　each　other　so　much；　so　very　much；　that　i　cant　repeat　it　all。　but　it　felt　good；　it　was　the　most　won…　derful　evening　ive　ever　had　in　the　annex。　ill　give　you　a　brief　description　of　the　various　subjects　we　touched　on。

first　we　talked　about　the　quarrels　and　how　i　see　them　in　a　very　different　light　these　days；　and　then　about　how　weve　bee　alienated　from　our　parents。　i　told　peter　about　mother　and　father　and　margot　and　myself。　at　one　point　he　asked；　〃you　always　give　each　other　a　good…night　kiss；　dont　you？鈥�

〃one？　dozens　of　them。　you　dont；　do　you？鈥�

〃no；　ive　never　really　kissed　anyone。鈥�

〃not　even　on　your　birthday？〃

〃yeah；　on　my　birthday　i　have。鈥�

we　talked　about　how　neither　of　us　really　trusts　our　parents；　and　how　his　parents　love　each　other　a　great　deal　and　wish　hed　confide　in　them；　but　that　he　doesnt　want　to。

how　i　cry　my　heart　out　in　bed　and　he　goes　up　to　the　loft　and　swears。　how　margot　and　i　have　only　recently　gotten　to　know　each　other　and　yet　still　tell　each　other　very　little；　since　were　always　together。　we　talked　about　every　imaginable　thing；　about　trust；　feelings　and　ourselves。　oh；　kitty；　he　was　just　as　i　thought　he　would　be。

then　we　talked　about　the　year　1942；　and　how　different　we　were　back　then；　we　dont　even　recognize　ourselves　from　that　period。　how　we　couldnt　stand　each　other　at　first。

hed　thought　i　was　a　noisy　pest；　and　id　quickly　concluded　that　he　was　nothing　special。

i　didnt　understand　why　he　didnt　flirt　with　me；　but　now　im　glad。　he　also　mentioned　how　he　often　used　to　retreat　to　his　room。　i　said　that　my　noise　and　exuberance　and　his　silence　were　two　sides　of　the　same　coin；　and　that　i　also　liked　peace　and　quiet　but　dont　have　anything　for　myself　alone；　except　my　diary；　and　that　everyone　would　rather　see　the　back　of　me；　starting　with　mr。　dussel；　and　that　i　dont　always　want　to　sit　with　my　parents。　we　discussed　how　glad　he　is　that　my　parents　have　children　and　how　glad　i　am　that　hes　here。

how　i　now　understand　his　need　to　withdraw　and　his　relationship　to　his　parents；　and　how　much　id　like　to　help　him　when　they　argue。

〃but　youre　always　a　help　to　me！〃　he　said。

〃how？〃　i　asked；　greatly　surprised。

〃by　being　cheerful。鈥�

that　was　the　nicest　thing　he　said　all　evening。　he　also　told　me　that　he　didnt　mind　my　ing　to　his　room　the　way　he　used　to；　in　fact；　he　liked　it。　i　also　told　him　that