He acted so normally, as though he were just off to do an errand. Yours, Anne
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1943
Dearest Kitty, Relationships here in the Annex are getting worse all the time.
We don't dare open our mouths at mealtime (except to slip in a bite of food),
because no matter what we say, someone is bound to resent it or take it the wrong way.
Mr. Voskuijl occasionally comes to visit us. Unfortunately, he's not doing very well.
He isn't making it any easier for his family, because his attitude seems to be: what do I care, I'm going to die anyway!
When I think how touchy everyone is here, I can just imagine what it must be like at the Voskuijls'.
I've been taking valerian every day to fight the anxiety and depression,
but it doesn't stop me from being even more miserable the next day.
A good hearty laugh would help better than ten valerian drops, but we've almost forgotten how to laugh.
Sometimes I'm afraid my face is going to sag with all this sorrow and that my mouth is going to permanently droop at the corners.
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