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JANUARY, 1943

        EDNESDAY, JANUARY 13, 1943

        Dearest Kitty,

        tantly interrupted, and as a result I    been able to finishing Ive begun.

        e ime, namely, filling packages s. Mr. Kugler    been able to find anyone else to fill ts cs they

        do in prisons. Its incredibly b and makes us dizzy and giggly.

        terrible tside. At any time of nig of to take only a knapsad a little casorn apart; men,    ts urn from so find tians in    to Germany. Everyone is scared. Every nigo German cities, to so of t, tire    ter, t.

        As for us, e fortunate. Luckier ts quiet and safe o buy food. ere so selfis alk about "after t; and look foro neually we so o salvage wever we .

        ts and ogs and no oo    to still treets to an even colder classroom. tten so bad in    op passersby is to beg for a piece of bread.

        I could spend elling you about t, but Id only make myself more miserable. All , as calmly as possible, for it to end. Jeing, ting, and many are ing for death.

        Yours, Anne

        SAtURDAY, JANUARY 30, 1943

        Dearest Kitty,

        Im seet I t s. Id like to scream, stamp my foot, give Mot knoy words,

        mog looks and accusations t s me day after day, pierg me like arr bow, wo pull from my body.

        Id like to scream at Mot, too: "Leave me alone, let me    least one nig cry myself to sleep    me get a; But I t do t. I t let ts, or ted on me. I could    to scream even more.

        Everyoalk, ridicu lous    e more tupid, g, etc., etc. All day long I    ing c off and pretend not to mind, I do mind. I y, o doesnt antagonize everyone.

        But ts impossible. Im stuck er I    Im sure Im not a bad person. I do my best to please everyone, more t in a million years. airs, I try to laug off because I dont    to see my troubles.

        More ter a series of absurd reproac Mot;I dont care     to talk bad virtually ignore me for two days.

        tten and sreat me like everyone else.

        Its impossible for me to be all smiles one day and venomous t. Id rat so golden, and keep my ts to myself.

        Perime Ill treat tempt as treat me. Oh, if only I could.

        Yours, Anne
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