Anne Frank's Diary presentation

Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me.

It seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

After May 1940, the good times were few and far between.

Hiding... where would you hide? In the city? In the Country? In a house? In a shack? When, where, how...?

Moortje, my cat, was the only living creature I said goodbye to.

The hiding place was located in the Father's office building.

At eight o'clock the doorbell suddenly rang. All I could think of was that someone was coming to get us,  you know who I mean.

Our many Jewish friends and acquaintances are being taken away in droves.

I feel wicked sleeping in a warm bed, while somewhere out there my dearest friends are dropping from exhaustion or being knocked to the ground. 

I feel like a songbird whose wings have been ripped off and who keeps hurting itself against the bars of its dark cage.

Saturday, 15 July, 1944 Yet, I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.

On 4 August 1944, the SS stormed the secret annex and deported all occupants. Anne died in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp at the age of 15.