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me；〃 he said。 〃i heard what you and margot were saying in the bathroom last night。 i think you just wanted to find out how much peter knew and then have a good laugh！鈥�
i was stunned！ i did everything i could to talk him out of that outrageous idea； i could understand how he must have felt； but it just wasnt true！
〃oh no； peter；〃 i said。 〃id never be so mean。 i told you i wouldnt pass on anything you said to me and i wont。 to put on an act like that and then deliberately be so mean。 。 。 no；peter； thats not my idea ofa joke。
it wouldnt be fair。 i didnt say anything； honest。 wont you believe me？〃 he assured me he did； but i think well have to talk about it again sometime。 ive done nothing all day but worry about it。 thank goodness he came right out and said what was on his mind。 imagine if hed gone around thinking i could be that mean。 hes so sweet！
now ill have to tell him everything！
yours； anne
friday； march 24； 1944
dear kitty；
i often go up to peters room after dinner nowadays to breathe in the fresh evening air。 you can get around to meaningful conversations more quickly in the dark than with the sun tickling your face。 its cozy and snug sitting beside him on a chair and looking outside。 the van daans and dussel make the silliest remarks when i disappear into his room。 〃annes zweite heimat；〃* ＇* annes second home＇ they say； or 〃is it proper for a gentleman to receive young girls in his room at night with the lights out？〃 peter has amazing presence of mind in the face of these so…called witticisms。 my mother； incidentally； is also bursting with curiosity and simply dying to ask what we talk about； only shes secretly afraid id refuse to answer。 peter says the grown…ups are just jealous because were young and that we shouldnt take their obnoxious ments to heart。
sometimes he es downstairs to get me； but thats awkward too； because in spite of all his precautions his face turns bright red and he can hardly get the words out of his mouth。 im glad i dont blush； it must be extremely unpleasant。
besides； it bothers me that margot has to sit downstairs all by herself； while im upstairs enjoying peters pany。 but what can i do about it？ i wouldnt mind it if she came； but shed just be the odd one out； sitting there like a lump on a log。
ive had to listen to countless remarks about our sudden friendship。 i cant tell you how often the conversation at meals has been about an annex wedding； should the war last another five years。 do we take any notice of this parental chitchat？ hardly； since its all so silly。 have my parents forgotten that they were young once？ apparently they have。 at any rate； they laugh at us when were serious； and theyre serious when were joking。
i dont know whats going to happen next； or whether well run out of things to say。
but if it goes on like this； well eventually be able to be together without talking。 if only his parents would stop acting so strangely。 its probably because they dont like seeing me so often； peter and i certainly never tell them what we talk about。 imagine if they knew we were discussing such intimate things。
id like to ask peter whether he knows what girls look like down there。 i dont think boys are as plicated as girls。 you can easily see what boys look like in photographs or pictures of male nudes； but with women its different。 in women； the genitals； or whatever theyre called； are hidden between their legs。 peter has probably never seen a girl up close。 to tell you the truth； neither have i。 boys are a lot easier。
how on earth would i go about describing a girls parts？ i can tell from what he said that he doesnt know exactly how it all fits together。 he was talking about the 〃muttermund；〃 ＇* cervix＇； but thats on the inside； where you cant see it。 everythings pretty well arranged in us women。 until i was eleven or twelve； i didnt realize there was a second set of labia on the inside； since you couldnt see them。 whats even funnier is that i thought urine came out of the clitoris。 i asked mother one time what that little bump was； and she said she didnt know。 she can really play dumb when she wants to！
but to get back to the subject。 how on earth can you explain what it all looks like without any models？
shall i try anyway？ okay； here goes！
when youre standing up； all you see from the front is hair。 between your legs there are two soft； cushiony things； also covered with hair； which press together when youre standing； so you cant see whats inside。 they separate when you sit down； and theyre very red and quite fleshy on the inside。 in the upper part； between the outer
labia； theres a fold of skin that； on second thought； looks like a kind of blister。 thats the clitoris。 then e the inner labia； which are also pressed together in a kind of crease。 when they open up； you can see a fleshy little mound； no bigger than the top of my thumb。 the upper part has a couple of small holes in it； which is where the urine es out。 the lower part looks as if it were just skin； and yet thats where the vagina is。 you can barely find it； because the folds of skin hide the opening。 the holes so small i can hardly imagine how a man could get in there； much less how a baby could e out。 its hard enough trying to get your index finger inside。 thats all there is； and yet it plays such an important role！
yours； anne
m。 frank
saturday； march 25； 1944
dearest kitty；
you never realize how much youve changed until after its happened。 ive changed quite drastically； everything about me is different： my opinions； ideas； critical outlook。
inwardly； outwardly； nothings the same。 and； i might safely add； since its true； ive changed for the better。 i once told you that； after years of being adored； it was hard for me to adjust to the harsh reality of grown…ups and rebukes。 but father and mother are largely to blame for my having to put up with so much。 at home they wanted me to enjoy life； which was fine； but here they shouldnt have encouraged me to agree with them and only shown me 〃their〃 side of all the quarrels and gossip。 it was a long time before i discovered the score was fifty…fifty。 i now know that many blunders have been mitted here； by young and old alike。 father and mothers biggest mistake in dealing with the van daans is that theyre never candid and friendly （admittedly； the friendliness might have to be feigned）。 above all； i want to keep the peace； and to neither quarrel nor gossip。 with father and margot thats not difficult； but it is with mother； which is why im glad she gives me an occasional rap on the knuckles。 you can win mr。 van daan to your side by agreeing with him； listening quietly； not saying much and most of all 。 。 。 responding to his teasing and his corny jokes with a joke of your own。 mrs。 van d。 can be won over by talking openly to her and admitting when youre wrong。 she also frankly admits her faults； of which she has many。 i know all too well that she doesnt think as badly of me as she did in the beginning。 and thats simply because im honest and tell people right to their faces what i think； even when its not very flattering。 i want to be honest； i think it gets you further and also makes you feel better about yourself。
yesterday mrs。 van d。 was talking about the rice we gave mr。 kleiman。 〃all we do is give； give； give。 but at a certain point i think that enough is enough。 if hed only take
the trouble； mr。 kleiman could scrounge up his own rice。 why should we give away all our supplies？ we need them just as badly。鈥�
〃no； mrs。 van daan；〃 i replied。 〃i dont agree with you。 mr。 kleiman may very well be able to get hold of a little rice； but he doesnt like having to worry about it。 its not our place to criticize the people who are helping us。 we should give them whatever they need if we can possibly spare it。 one less pl
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saturday； april 1； 1944
my dearest kitty；
and yet everything is still so difficult。 you do know what i mean； dont you？ i long so much for him to kiss me； but that kiss is taking its own sweet time。 does he still think of me as a friend？ dont i mean anything more？
you and i both know that im strong； that i can carry most burdens alone。 ive never been used to sharing my worries with anyone； and ive never clung to a mother； but id love to lay my head on his shoulder and just sit there quietly。
i cant； i simply cant forget that dream of peters cheek； when everything was so good！ does he have the same longing？ is he just too shy to say he loves me？ why does he want me near him so much？ oh； why doesnt he say something？
ive got to stop； ive got to be calm。 ill try to be strong again； and if im patient； the rest will follow。 but and this is the worst part i seem to be chasing him。 im always the one who has to go upstairs； he never es to me。 but thats because of
the rooms； and he understands why i object。 oh； im sure he understands more than i think 。
yours； anne
m。 frank
monday； april 3； 1944
my dearest kitty；
contrary to my usual practice； im going to write you a detailed description of the food situation； since its bee a matter of some difficulty and importance； not only here in the annex； but in