《安妮日记》第48章

i　have　to　sit　on　a　cushion；　because　otherwise　my　poor　backside　really　takes　a　beating。
everyone　here　is　reading　a　book　called　a　cloudless　morning。　mother　thought　it　was　extremely　good　because　it　describes　a　number　of　adolescent　problems。　i　thought　to　myself；　a　bit　ironically；　〃why　dont　you　take　more　interest　in　your　own　adolescents　first！”
i　think　mother　believes　that　margot　and　i　have　a　better　relationship　with　our　parents　than　anyone　in　the　whole　wide　world；　and　that　no　mother　is　more　involved　in　the　lives　of　her　children　than　she　is。　she　must　have　my　sister　in　mind；　since　i　dont　believe　margot　has　the　same　problems　and　thoughts　as　i　do。　far　be　it　from　me　to　point　out　to　mother　that　one　of　her　daughters　is　not　at　all　what　she　imagines。　shed　be　pletely　bewildered；　and　anyway；　shed　never　be　able　to　change；　id　like　to　spare　her　that　grief；　especially　since　i　know　that　everything　would　remain　the　same。　mother　does　sense　that　margot　loves　her　much　more　than　i　do；　but　she　thinks　im　just　going　through　a　phase。
margots　gotten　much　nicer。　she　seems　a　lot　different　than　she　used　to　be。　shes　not　nearly　as　catty　these　days　and　is　being　a　real　friend。　she　no　longer　thinks　of　me　as　a　litde　kid　who　doesnt　count。
its　funny；　but　i　can　sometimes　see　myself　as　others　see　me。　i　take　a　leisurely　look　at　the　person　called　〃anne　frank〃　and　browse　through　the　pages　of　her　life　as　though　she　were　a　stranger。
before　i　came　here；　when　i　didnt　think　about　things　as　much　as　i　do　now；　i　occasionally　had　the　feeling　that　i　didnt　belong　to　momsy；　pim　and　margot　and　that　i　would　always　be　an　outsider。　i　sometimes　went　around　for　six　months　at　a　time　pretending　i　was　an　orphan。　then　id　chastise　myself　for　playing　the　victim；　when　really；　id　always　been　so　fortunate。　after　that　id　force　myself　to　be　friendly　for　a　while。　every　morning　when　i　heard　footsteps　on　the　stairs；　i　hoped　it　would　be　mother　ing　to　say　good　morning。　id　greet　her　warmly；　because　i　honesly　did　look　forward　to　her　affectionate　glance。　but　then　shed　snap　at　me　for　having　made　some　ment　or　other　（and　id　go　off　to　school　feeling　pletely　discouraged。
on　the　way　home　id　make　excuses　for　her；　telling　myself　that　she　had　so　many　worries。　id　arrive　home　in　high　spirits；　chatting　nineteen　to　the　dozen；　until　the　events　of　the　morning　would　repeat　themselves　and　id　leave　the　room　with　my　schoolbag　in　my　hand　and　a　pensive　look　on　my　face。　sometimes　id　decide　to　stay　angry；　but　then　i　always　had　so　much　to　talk　about　after　school　that　id　forget　my　resolution　and　want　mother　to　stop　whatever　she　was　doing　and　lend　a　willing　ear。　then　the　time　would　e　once　more　when　i　no　longer　listened　for　the　steps　on　the　stairs　and　felt　lonely　and　cried　into　my　pillow　every　night。
everything　has　gotten　much　worse　here。　but　you　already　knew　that。　now　god　has　sent　someone　to　help　me：　peter。　i　fondle　my　pendant；　press　it　to　my　lips　and　think；　〃what　do　i　care！　petel　is　mine　and　nobody　knows　it！〃　with　this　in　mind；　i　can　rise　above　every　nasty　remark。　which　of　the　people　here　would　suspect　that　so　much　is　going　on　in　the　mind　of　a　teenage　girl？
saturday；　january　15；　1944
my　dearest　kitty；
theres　no　reason　for　me　to　go　on　describing　all　our　quarrels　and　arguments　down　to　the　last　detail。　its　enough　to　tell　you　that　weve　divided　many　things　like　meat　and　fats　and　oils　and　are　frying　our　own　potatoes。　recently　weve　been　eating　a　little　extra　rye　bread　because　by　four　oclock　were　so　hungry　for　dinner　we　can　barely
control　our　rumbling　stomachs。
mothers　birthday　is　rapidly　approaching。　she　received　some　extra　sugar　from　mr。
kugler；　which　sparked　off　jealousy　on　the　part　of　the　van　daans；　because　mrs。　van　d。
didnt　receive　any　on　her　birthday。　but　whats　the　point　of　boring　you　with　harsh　words；　spiteful　conversations　and　tears　when　you　know　they　bore　us　even　more？
mother　has　expressed　a　wish；　which　isnt　likely　to　e　true　any　time　soon：　not　to　have　to　see　mr。　van　daans　face　for　two　whole　weeks。　i　wonder　if　everyone　who　shares　a　house　sooner　or　later　ends　up　at　odds　with　their　fellow　residents。　or　have　we　just　had　a　stroke　of　bad　luck？　at　mealtime；　when　dussel　helps　himself　to　a　quarter　of　the　half…filled　gravy　boat　and　leaves　the　rest　of　us　to　do　without；　i　lose　my　appetite　and　feel　like　jumping　to　my　feet；　knocking　him　off　his　chair　and　throwing　him　out　the　door。
are　most　people　so　stingy　and　selfish？　ive　gained　some　insight　into　human　nature　since　i　came　here；　which　is　good；　but　ive　had　enough　for　the　present。　peter　says　the　same。
the　war　is　going　to　go　on　despite　our　quarrels　and　our　longing　for　freedom　and　fresh　air；　so　we　should　try　to　make　the　best　of　our　stay　here。
im　preaching；　but　i　also　believe　that　if　i　live　here　much　longer；　ill　turn　into　a　dried…up　old　beanstalk。　and　all　i　really　want　is　to　be　an　honest…to…goodness　teenager！
yours；　anne　
wednesday　evening；　january　19；　1944
dearest　kitty；
i　（there　i　go　again！）　dont　know　whats　happened；　but　since　my　dream　i　keep　noticing　how　ive　changed。　by　the　way；　i　dreamed　about　peter　again　last　night　and　once　again　i　felt　his　eyes　penetrate　mine；　but　this　dream　was　less　vivid　and　not　quite　as　beautiful　as　the　last。
you　know　that　i　always　used　to　be　jealous　of　margots　relationship　with　father。
theres　not　a　trace　of　my　jealousy　left　now；　i　still　feel　hurt　when　fathers　nerves　cause　him　to　be　unreasonable　toward　me；　but　then　i　think；　〃i　cant　blame　you　for　being　the　way　you　are。　you　talk　so　much　about　the　minds　of　children　and　adolescents；
but　you　dont　know　the　first　thing　about　them！〃　i　long　for　more　than　fathers　affection；　more　than　his　hugs　and　kisses。　isnt　it　awful　of　me　to　be　so　preoccupied　with　myself？　shouldnt　i；　who　want　to　be　good　and　kind；　forgive　them　first？　i　forgive　mother　too；　but　every　time　she　makes　a　sarcastic　remark　or　laughs　at　me；　its　all　i　can　do　to　control　myself。
i　know　im　far　from　being　what　i　should；　will　i　ever　be？
anne　frank
p。s。　father　asked　if　i　told　you　about　the　cake。　for　mothers　birthday；　she　received　a　real　mocha　cake；　prewar　quality；　from　the　office。　it　was　a　really　nice　day！　but　at　the　moment　theres　no　room　in　my　head　for　things　like　that。
saturday；　january　22；　194