Anne Frank October 29, 1943 - like a songbird

October 29, 1943
The atmosphere is stifling, sluggish, leaden.
Outside you don’t hear a single bird, and a deathly, oppressive silence hangs over the house and clings to me as if it’s going to drag me into the deepest regions of the underworld.
At times like these, Father Mother and Margot don’t matter to me in the least.
I wander from room to room, climb up and down the stairs and feel like a songbird whose wings have been ripped off and who keeps hurling itself against the bars of its dark cage.