The Diary.

Chapter Three

Anne's POV.

Jopie told me that guards have found out about our secret messages. She said that the person who got them caught was killed immediately. Luckily, she said it was no one we knew. But still, anyone dying is upsetting. I feel as if people in this camp do not know about everyone's deaths. They never will. But the deaths of Margot and Mother will haunt me forever..what I could do to save them. Maybe that one night, I probably shouldn't have screamed, thrashed.
Maybe there were things we could all do. Peter could've asked someone to get the lamp instead of crashing it, Dussel could've stopped going downstairs, Mr. Van Daan didn't have to steal food, Mrs. Van Daan didn't have to scream when we took her fur coat, like it was her life. I mean; I get it. Her father gave her that coat, it meant a lot. But the screaming... anyone could've heard us. She's not the only one that's hurting, and just wants to scream.
Mother and Pim and Margot... they don't regret a thing, I suppose. And maybe that's good. In life, you have no regrets. Maybe, before I die, I will forget about my regrets, and tell myself they've helped me, not hurt me. This whole experience may help me become the best writer I could've been. This experience could get me to Paris!

I have become more ill as the days go by. Some days I don't feel like getting out of 'bed', aka the floor, and getting myself food and water. I feel like I'm giving up. I wish Pim were here, to get my spirits up. Pim always could do that. Peter, too. I miss my family. Feeling closed-off, yet again, sucks. I want to gossip and talk and act as if I'm okay, but I want to stay quiet and silently cry and think about life outside of camp.
I wonder if Pim has found out about Margot and Mother. Does he think I'm dead? Maybe he never got any messages back.. maybe Peter thinks I am. Maybe Peter wants to hurt himself, knowing now his promise will not be fufilled in the way he wants to. I have to find a way to tell him... how could I? The news of camps being liberated was flying around again. I wonder if Pim and Peter and Mr. Van Daan are out safely. Where will they go? Will they go to the Annex, or our homes. I suppose the Annex, perhaps our homes were destroyed or sold in the face of the war. Mrs. Van Daan will be devestated if that's true.
A lady has said the old camp I was in was liberated. Mrs. Van Daan may be out safely! I'm happy for her. She can be back to her clothes and grow her hair back and be rich and happy, like she wanted to be. As for me, all I want is to survive. I want to see what Peter's promise is. Perhaps he and I could go on a real date, when we leave his camp. Will that be his promise?
It will be weird to leave the Annex, to go off on my real life. My memory is splotchy with anything before the beginning of hiding, for some reason. How will I leave the home I haven't left besides one time? I can't say I'll live in hiding from nothing again, because that's absurd! Who does that unless needed? If I have children, I'm not allowing them to be deprieved from the sky, from the wind and air. All this talk of life after this camp is making me hopeful.. maybe I shouldn't be.
Small sirens start going off, slowly then quickly and louder. Everyone rises, even the weak ones. We glance around before I walk forward. I have nothing to lose.
I keep walking until I see soilders. I nearly run back in, but they look different. ''The soliders are here! We will be liberated!'' I cry, rushing out weakly. My legs, thin and cut, can barely hold my small weight anymore, but I manage to run into a Red Cross woman, hugging her tightly.
I am free.

Peter's POV.

Mr. Frank and I were out getting our drinking water when the sirens came. Mr. Frank suggested this was just a malfunction, but I heard cries of joy. I exited the building cautiously, peeking out of the door. People in white coats, soliders in different uniforms than the Nazi's... they were rushing everywhere. ''Mr. Frank! Mr. Frank! The soliders!"' I say loudly, smiling a little.
The little boys eat slowly, apples from the soliders' packs, then drink clean water. Some doctors rush the sick to a train, one out of three waiting for us.
Mr. Frank arrives next to me, eyes widening in disbelief. We slowly jog to some soliders, who hand us both an apple and tell us to go on Train A2. When we do, we find a place to sit. Everyone's silent. Maybe we're all scared. Scared to know that if we leave here... our family may not be alive. Anne, Mrs. Frank, Margot, ... Mother. They all may be gone. We already know Anne's Mother and sister have passed.. she must be sick, very ill. What if she's gone? I can't tell myself if she is or is not. She may be gone. What if she's just passing, as the camp is being liberated? I would cry, wherever I end up. Missing freedom by just a minute.
But I would understand if she gave up. She's been alone for a while now. I'm not sure how long it has been since Mrs. Frank passed, but when you're sick, you don't really talk or react. She's been alone with her thoughts all this time. Does she think of me? I sigh and relax as the train flies down the road and back to our stop, near the Annex, near my house. ''If Mrs. Van Daan isn't at the port yet, we can go and perhaps see if my home is okay still. We could stay there for a while, until we get settled and relaxed and in better shape.'' Mr. Frank offers.
I nod, smiling gratefully at him. ''Thank you, Mr. Frank,'' I say.

''Well, Anne wouldn't be so happy with me if I did not help you.'' He jokes, and we laugh quietly.
I feel like the days in capitivity are slowly coming back, not the paranoia or the hiding, but the happiness. We were happy in the Annex. Everyone may not have shown it, but it was obvious. We enjoyed each others company.
The train slows and I help Mr. Frank up, then we exit and go to the Red Cross station, where they add our names to the survival list and make sure we're not sick. If we are, they send us to the hospital. If we are not, they let us off. At least, that's what Mr. Frank tells me. When it's my turn, I tell the woman my name is Peter Van Daan.
''Do you know of an Anne Frank? Or a Petronella Van Daan?'' I ask her.
She glances at her list. ''No, sir. We've only liberated the men's camps so far. The soliders are going to a few camps now. Do not look for answers every day, it make take a few days for the trip back.. and if they're sick, they might not even try to cure them... it's that bad.'' She says with a tone of sympathy, but I can't stand it.
''What ... you won't cure ... but ... your job is to get people out alive! Not leave them to rot!'' I shout. Mr. Frank places his hand on my arm, pushing me to the side a little, telling the lady his name and walking us away quickly.
''You mustn't do that, Peter.'' His tone is emotionless, face cold. ''It's not nice, they saved our life.''
''It's not worth it if the people that I stayed alive for aren't coming back.'' I tell him and walk ahead, no clue of where to go. I glance at the sky, that Anne adores so much. It's almost sunrise, the light blue curving the sky. Straight down infront of me is a pinkish-orange circle following the half-sun. If I was an artist, these colors would mix beautifully on my paper. I wish I was an artist. Anne would love a picture of a sky, wouldn't she? Maybe I could take up art class.
Or writing. I still would love to see her diary, but only when I know she's alright. I don't want to invade her privacy. She did say I could read it, but it.. not without her.

Mr. Frank walks next to me now, not giving me a chance to apologize. He tells me that I should be upset and mad. He agrees with me, but he said he wouldn't make a scene like that. We go into his old house, and he shows me around, before saying that he'd prefer to get some safe sleep. We bolt the doors, lock the windows, and sleep. He sleeps in his room, and I sleep on the sofa, unsure of where I should actually sleep.
I dream about life if everyone was alive, I dream about happiness and hope.