Basically we had this school project, and a choice was to write a diary entry. We were to write two, however I can't find my other one. I hope you enjoy. Not one of my best, but it's a favorite. :) This goes along with the song: Diary of Jane: Acoustic by Breaking Benjamin. Great song.

~HFQ

Friday, December 25th, 1942

Dear Diary,

As my last entry approved, it wasn't a very Happy Christmas after all. GrandMum and GrandFather came down, which made it at least a bit pleasant. I showed Grandmum the new dresses I've been stitching with Marie, our Housekeeper. However, Father rebelled against the slight idea of it and took away all of my cloth. I can only fashion in secret now. It seems as if lately Father hasn't been around as much. Now it only seems as if the only other I have is Nathaniel, my elder brother.

I really do miss Mum even more today, and her wonderful laugh that could make you smile even in the worst of times. At least I've been told... She's always on my mind... How she may have been like. I didn't grow up with my Mother. She was killed by my Father, and I still haven't forgiven him. But Nathaniel seems indifferent and seems to forget about it, even though I ask him constantly about her. Sometimes I even wonder if he thinks that what Father is doing is right. I can't say much myself though; I was forced into the Hitler Youth. I don't like what they're doing, blaming their troubles on certain people. I think it's childish but not that anyone like my father would care. Sometimes I don't even understand why I'm still here. I hate it here, and what they're doing, even if I shouldn't know what's going on.

We had our first training for the H.Y. (Hitler Youth). It turned out to be the most dreadful thing I've gone through. Hitler was just circling around us, poking us. I couldn't help but feel invaded; as I'm sure many others did as well. It's sick, the way he is. But I can't do anything about it. If I do... I'll more than likely be killed instantly.

This brings me to another thought. I've wanted to escape this nightmare for several years. I don't want to live it anymore. There's nothing I can do to make it go away if I do kill myself, but I'm doing it anyway. For all I know, this could be my last entry. If you read this Father, I just want you to know that you were never the man Mother would have wanted you to be.

As I try to find my place,

Jane Black