This was written by my ESL student, Zaira.

Enjoy!

The Victorious Story of a Bright Writer: Anne Frank

One day again feeling down in the dumps of this seclusion dear Kitty, waking up this way doesn't help, I rather change this hideous mood and try to see the new day as if it were the beginning of the end.

Something strange happens inside me, on the one hand I am gloomy but on the other hand I have this optimistic sensation of being freed.

Today as the past 745 days that I have been hidden here, I mark the date in my hand made calendar: August 1st, 1944 …why is this war turning time in such an endless thing?

I am willing to rewrite all my stories, compelling tons of fine phrases I found in so much things to accomplish, of course before the world outside realize the terrific writer they have in front, I can't wait for that!

The hole secrecy has been quite a sorrowful and wicked experience , the eight of us cloistered in this hidden warehouse brought the best and the inner worst of all, and I can't blame anyone, one more day and I swear , I will go insane.

No food left, the last days Miep hasn't been able to get extra groceries (If you call that a sack of potatoes) not for the Pels, the Frank's nor Fritz Pffeifer, the behind house is tearing apart among their habitants, I thought miserably, resigning myself to another famine day.

If it weren't for our Angels, that is how I call all our friends that are our eyes and ears of the outside world: Miep and Jen Gies, Mr. Kleiman, Mr. Kugler and Bep and Johanes Voskuijl , what would it be of us without the food, clothes and books they barely can provide us, with all the irrational restrictions this disgusting war had brought.

All the tactful and polite manners mother and father had thought me are vanishing due to this claustrophobic place, something is disturbing me and even Margot is avoiding me, I will try to be calm and act as the lovely novels Miep gave me.

Everybody is awake and agitated, some strange noises started to cracked on the walls, I wonder what is going on, we all know what to do when it happens: stand still, do not move ,if we can , do not breathe. I now felt for the first time absolutely certain that the day has come, the Nazis broke the secret door behind the bookcase, I have never felt so hectic, I just pray that we all survive and go back to the fresh and jolly life we use to have…

I just recall a hatred memory of bewildered screams, I couldn't stop clasping and unclasping my hands, until the tears started brimming over me. My sister Margot and me were send to Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp where vengeful and frantic things were planned for us and all human being that had the bad luck to step in that hell.

Mother and Father where sent to Auschwitz as well as the others, we didn't have idea where they had been. We felt so frightened and morbid that we were in a red thin line close to death surrounded by plenty of illness, misery and horror.

At last the darkness thinned and suddenly there was a genuine daylight over our heads when the army against the Nazis pulverized them that 4th of August of 1944, and our pain was worth the wait to finally see that the sun actually shone out.

We were terrified to see that everything changed, to witness the holocaust that evil war had caused and all the families that had been broken. Luckily our parents were also survivors, but not the Pels and Pffeifer whom became our family too after sharing so many things during two endless years which seemed not to have an end.

Our good friends, the Gies and Voskuijl are part of our lives, now and even after this dark period of war; we create family bounds with them.

After all this harmful phase of our lives and that sad part of history not only in our lives but for all humanity, my being was dramatically marked but furthermore I was convinced to share to the world what I lived hidden in the behind house of Prinsengracht n° 263, Amsterdam. What I discovered about me and about humanity and most of all to let every human being the beauty of freedom.

I have often been downcast, but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary I treat all the privations as amusing. I have made up my mind now to lead a different life from other girls and, later on, different from ordinary housewives. My start has been so very full of interest, and that is the sole reason why I have to laugh at the humorous side of the most dangerous moments.

I simply can't build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death … I think peace and tranquility will return again.

I don't think of all the misery, but all the beauty that still remains. For sure I will see the light outside these four walls. And so it happened: September 2nd, 1945 the War came to its end, no sooner had the Nazis been defeated by the Russians than its glory became our glory too.

I clearly recall the day The Netherlands Education Minister made a call on the radio to keep all diaries written during war and demonstrate what humans had gone through during the Second World War; that was my chance to go further and publish my diary.

I have been having a dream, besides sharing my love for writing, I am eager to fight for human rights, and I know my father Otto as the loving and supportive father he is, he will begin this adventure besides me, now I'm ready to ask for my daddy's help to ask the editors to publish Anne Frank's diary. My diary.

Our Family went through helpless, sorrowful and defeated times that were surpassed with love and faith and trough us, the world knew the good side of humans.

After the days had gone by, I had a lively adolescence and became a bright writer that always helped others and fought for human rights. I shared countless cheerful stories with my sister Margot and our best friend Edith (who happens to be my Mom).

Only by then, one of my phrases became reality …. Where there is hope, there is life!

Thanks for reading. Reviews will be greatly appreciated.