SUNDAY, JANUARY 30, 1944
My dearest Kit,
Another Sunday has rolled around; I don't mind them as much as I did in the beginning, but they're boring enough.
I still haven't gone to the warehouse yet, but maybe sometime soon. Last night I went downstairs in the dark, all by myself, after having been there with Father a few nights before. I stood at the top of the stairs while German planes flew back and forth, and I knew I was on my own, that I couldn't count on others for support. My fear vanished. I looked up at the sky and trusted in God.
I have an intense need to be alone. Father has noticed I'm not my usual self, but I can't tell him what's bothering me. All I want to do is scream "Let me be, leave me alone!"
Who knows, perhaps the day will come when I'm left alone more than I'd like!
Anne Fran
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