No hate or racism please.

Zephaniah

My mind was exploding with information that people had, somehow, stuffed inside my head today. The boat trip through the canals had been peaceful, in some ways, but the much information about the history of Amsterdam had been too much for me to save.

It didn't really matter, though. I got lost in stare moments many times, enjoying the soft breeze and the sunny weather. Haven had been quiet the whole time, she had intensely listened to the story that fascinated her. So now and then, she had pointed out several things to me. Overall, the morning had been okay, and after lunch in the Vondelpark, we were off to the House of Anne Frank.

There would be many stairs, they had said, it would be packed and tight. Clearly, I was looking forward to that. It was a joke, in case you hadn't noticed.

"I think I'm going to cry. Her story is so incredibly sad." Haven blew out some breath, her cheeks chubby now they were full of air. It looked funny, it made me chuckle a bit. "I read her diary, have you?"

Shaking my head, I looked into her eyes for a brief moment. "I think Mum has it, though." I answered quietly, rapidly fiddling with my fingers as we were waiting in line. William had, again, bought the tickets online already, but it was so incredibly busy that it still took ages to enter. I was lucky to have slept well, I could handle the stimulus today, although I knew it could get to the edge of overstimulation.

"You should read it. It really gives you an insight of how the war would've been, even if I still cannot fully imagine it." Haven said, readjusting the beret that was placed on top of her wavy hair.

I hummed a little, my eyes lingering on Haven for some reasons. I stepped a little closer, feeling comfortable in her presence. Haven was sweet, she really was a good friend. I wouldn't know if I would've survived the trip if she hadn't been here.

She looked up and smiled at me. I smiled back, turning my eyes to Anne Frank's house.

It was a strange thought to know that the young girl had truly lived here years ago, when the war had kept this country in captivity. I didn't want to think about it too much, it made me shiver and overthink about things I did not want to happen.

I wore my numbing headphones- the city was loud and the waiting took ages. I didn't want to be too distracted already, so I calmed myself before finally entering the House of Anne Frank. Stuffing my headphones in my backpack, I focused on the guide who started to explain practical things first. When he questioned about who knew Anne's story, Haven had raised her hand and talked enthusiastically about the things she already knew.

I admired her, she had so much knowledge.

The man with the blue and white keychain around his neck cleared his throat, eyeing some of our peers. Luckily, his eyes hadn't met mine. "We'll start at the beginning.. Let me take you into the story of Anne Frank, and how this young girl had died while being on the verge of surviving the war. Anne, which is short for Annelies Marie, Frank was born on the twelfth of June, nineteen- twenty nine in the German city Frankfurt am Main. The Franks were a typical upper middle-class, German-Jewish family living in a quiet, religiously diverse neighborhood near the outskirts of Frankfurt. But she was born on the eve of dramatic changes in German society that would soon disrupt her family's happy, tranquil life as well as the lives of all other German Jews."

The house smelled old and like dust, I didn't know if that made any sense, but at least it did to me.

"Due in large part to the harsh sanctions imposed on Germany by the Treaty of Versailles, that ended the first World War, the German economy struggled terribly in nineteen- twenty. During the late nineteen- twenties and early nineteen- thirties, the virulently anti-Semitic National German Socialist Workers Party, Nazi Party, led by Adolf Hitler became Germany's leading political force, winning control of the government in nineteen- thirty three. Otto Frank had recalled later that he could remember groups of Storm Troopers coming by marching, singing when Jewish blood splatters from the knife."

I furrowed my eyebrows, somehow, seeing people marching and singing such terrible stuff. Being slightly sensitive to things like that, I could imagine and see things in my mind too clearly at times.

"Although it had hurt Otto Frank deeply, when Hitler became chancellor of Germany on the twentieth of January, nineteen- thirty three, the Frank family immediately realized that it was time to flee. They moved to Amsterdam, Netherlands, in the fall of nineteen- thirty three. Anne described the circumstances of her family's emigration years later in her diary; Because we're Jewish, my father immigrated to Holland in 1933, where he became the managing director of the Dutch Opekta Company, which manufactures products used in making jam." The guide quoted, a picture was shown of the words written in Dutch that he had just said. The page came out of Anne's diary, it impressed me.

"After years of enduring anti-Semitism in Germany, the family of Anne were relieved to once again enjoy freedom in their new hometown of Amsterdam. Otto recalled later that in those days it was possible for them to start over and feel free."

"Anne Frank began attending Amsterdam's Sixth Montessori School in nineteen- thirty four, and throughout the rest of the nineteen- thirties, she lived a relatively happy and normal childhood. Anne Frank learned the Dutch language, had many friends, Dutch and German, Jewish and Christian, and she was a bright and inquisitive student." He showed more photos of Anne at school, and for some reasons, I couldn't forget her eyes that bored shamelessly through mine, as if she was already screaming for help even when the war hadn't gotten to them yet.

I looked away.

"On the first of September, nineteen- thirty nine, Nazi Germany invaded Poland, igniting a global conflict that would become the Second World War. On the tenth of May, nineteen- forty, the German army invaded the Netherlands. The Dutch surrendered on the fifteenth of May, nineteen- forty, marking the beginning of the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands. As Anne later wrote in her diary, "After May 1940, the good times were few and far between; first there was the war, then the capitulation and then the arrival of the Germans, which is when the trouble started for the Jews." He quoted from her diary again, another photo of a page out of her diary shown.

"Beginning in October nineteen- forty, the Nazi occupiers imposed anti-Jewish measures on the Netherlands. Jews were required to wear a yellow Star of David at all times and observe a strict curfew; they were also forbidden from owning businesses. Slowly but surely, the Nazis introduced more and more laws and regulations that made the lives of Jews more difficult. For instance, Jews could no longer visit parks, cinemas, or non-Jewish shops. The rules meant that more and more places became off-limits to Anne. Her father lost his company, since Jews were no longer allowed to run their own businesses. All Jewish children, including Anne, had to go to separate Jewish schools."

"Can you imagine?" Haven whispered, her eyes wide as she looked up to me.

I shook my head, I felt sad. I didn't understand their immense hate for the Jews. What had they done wrong? To me it was just proper racism.

The guide continued. "The Nazis took things further, one step at the time. Jews had to start wearing a Star of David on their clothes and there were rumours that all Jews would have to leave the Netherlands. When Margot received a call-up to report for a so-called 'labour camp' in Nazi Germany on the fifth of July nineteen- forty two, her parents were suspicious. They did not believe the call-up was about work and decided to go into hiding the next day in order to escape persecution. In the spring of nineteen- forty two, Anne's father had started furnishing a hiding place in the annex of his business premises at Prinsengracht 263. He received help from his former colleagues. Before long, they were joined by four more people. The hiding place was cramped. Anne had to keep very quiet and was often afraid."

I stepped closer to Haven, anxious feelings creeping up inside of me for unknown reasons. Perhaps, because I was so focused on the story, imagining everything so clearly- it was as if I was walking beside her all along the way.

He showed another photo, a red checkered diary was shown; the famous Diary of Anne Frank. "On her thirteenth birthday, just before they went into hiding, Anne was presented with a diary. During the two years in hiding, Anne wrote about events in the Secret Annex, but also about her feelings and thoughts. In addition, she wrote short stories, started on a novel and copied passages from the books she read in her Book of Beautiful Sentences. Writing helped her pass the time."

I thought about it for a while. Writing was such a helpful thing. I was not an author, but I did write about my feelings so now and then, the stuff I had done. So my parents could read about the trip and I didn't have to talk- I was usually too tired for that.

"When the Minister of Education of the Dutch government in England made an appeal on Radio Orange to hold on to war diaries and documents, Anne was inspired to rewrite her individual diaries into one running story, titled Het Achterhuis which is Dutch for The Secret Annex."

"Then, the hiding place got discovered.." the man spoke slowly, scratching the back of his head. I stared at him, I wondered how many times he had to tell her story a day. He must have studied the history of Anne Frank quite a lot.

"Anne started rewriting her diary, but before she was done, she and the other people in hiding were discovered and arrested by police officers on the fourth of August nineteen- forty four. The police also arrested two of the helpers. To this day, we do not know the reason for the police raid. Despite the raid, part of Anne's writing was preserved. Two other helpers took the documents before the Secret Annex was emptied by order of the Nazis."

Haven seemed angry, it made me feel a little uncertain. "Fifteen years old, with a dream of becoming a writer." She whispered to me, her eyes glistened. It hurt my heart, I was startled. Even when I understood how she felt.

"Via the offices of the Sicherheitsdienst, which stands for the German security police, a prison in Amsterdam, and the Westerbork transit camp, the people from the Secret Annex were put on transport to the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration and extermination camp. The train journey took three days, during which Anne and over a thousand others were packed closely together in cattle wagons. There was little food and water and only a barrel for a toilet."

"Upon arrival at Auschwitz, Nazi doctors checked to see who would and who would not be able to do heavy forced labour. Around three- hundred and fifty people from Anne's transport were immediately taken to the gas chambers and murdered. Anne, Margot and their mother were sent to the labour camp for women. Otto ended up in a camp for men." The man showed photo's of trains full of Jewish people, that would be transported to death.

Little did they know.

The photos hit my sensitivity, it broke something in me which was expressed into tears. I blinked them away, though, it was probably stupid to cry at this very moment. Breathing out a little, I stared at the several displayed photos, the people who were looking directly into the camera catching me off guard for different reasons.

"In early November nineteen- forty four, Anne was put on transport again. She was deported to the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp with Margot. Their parents stayed behind in Auschwitz. The conditions in Bergen-Belsen were horrible too. There was a lack of food, it was cold, wet and there were contagious diseases. Anne and Margot contracted typhus. In February nineteen- forty five they both died owing to its effects, Margot first, Anne shortly afterwards. Anne's father Otto was the only one of the people from the Secret Annex to survive the war. He was liberated from Auschwitz by the Russians and during his long journey back to the Netherlands he learned that his wife Edith had died. Once in the Netherlands, he heard that Anne and Margot were no longer alive either."

I tugged at the back of my hair- I felt upset about the story and my tears were too heavy to blink away. Bringing my other hand to my mouth, I started biting my nails, trying not to flap them, but wanting to focus on something else. I couldn't imagine being separated by Cooper, mum and dad, my family and then coming back finding out everyone had died except you.

Haven glanced at me, I quickly looked away. Her thumb tenderly brushed over my hurt cheekbone, wiping off the wetness the tears had left behind. It made me feel ashamed, I didn't know how to react to it, so I simply looked away again. She leaned in a little and I let her, liking the comfort she somehow gave me, even when I was rather ashamed about me crying- I just couldn't help it.

"Anne's writing made a deep impression on Otto. He read that Anne had wanted to become a writer or a journalist and that she had intended to publish her stories about life in the Secret Annex. Friends convinced Otto to publish the diary and in June 1947, 3,000 copies of Het Achterhuis, The Secret Annex, were printed. And that was not all.. The book was later translated into around seventy languages and adapted for stage and screen. People all over the world were introduced to Anne's story and in nineteen- sixty the hiding place became a museum: the Anne Frank House. Until his death in nineteen- eighty, Otto remained closely involved with the Anne Frank House and the museum. He hoped that readers of the diary would become aware of the dangers of discrimination, racism, and hatred of Jews." The man finished his story, the class was quiet.

I had heard of her, but I hadn't ever known how miserable her life had been- if she would even think so herself. It was tragic, and even I could barely comprehend all of it. The hate, destroyed humanity and the concentration camps where people were murdered.

The tour into the secret annex was rather tiring- there were a lot of stairs, it was warm, it was packed, more photos and information was displayed such as her letters, the diary- I was mentally overwhelmed. Once we stood outside the building, I breathed out in relief, even when the loudness of the city came like a smack in my face too.

"We'll soon go to the meeting point, or do you want to go there already?" Haven wondered, I quickly nodded, knowing the meeting point was somewhere calm with grass, a wooden bench and a smaller- less busy road.

We walked in silence, my head was full.

Once we were seated on the wooden bench, I glanced at Haven. She was staring at something in the distance, her hands underneath her legs, to probably warm them. I was fiddling with my fingers, not really knowing what to say.

"Heavy, right? Educational, though. So much information.." Haven trailed off, looking at me. "Are you okay?"

"Do you think we'll get into a war?" I blurted out, swallowing. "What if- what if there's a war coming to England and we-"

"I don't think you have to think that way, Zeph." Haven frowned lightly. "Are you afraid of it?"

"Overthinking is my talent." I mumbled out, flapping my hands a little. "The world is just.. so mean and a mess, okay? It wouldn't surprise me. I hope I'll be with mum and dad, though, I don't want to be at Uni when I die or-"

Haven stood in front of me, looking down. "Hey, no." She shook her head slowly, her intense stare lingering in my eyes. "Don't think that way, Zeph. The world is a mess, indeed, but for as long as we live in peace, you shouldn't occupy your thoughts with it. How else, will you be able to be grateful for the peace we would live in at this very moment?"

"You're right." I frowned a little, my eyes falling on Luke, Tara and the other boys and Norah as they walked over to the meeting point as well, the class and William walking close. Luke glared at me, his hand fisting. I didn't feel intimidated anymore ever since he had beaten me. "I don't want to make war with- with people." I said simply, looking up at Haven.

Haven smiled lightly, sitting back down with a sigh. "You never did."

"I don't want to make war with myself either." I mumbled out, staring at my shoes. How many times had I despised myself for being who I really was? Mind battling with thoughts, with hatred towards my own personality.

Haven smiled at me, her rosy cheeks and squinted eyes suddenly very visible to me.

She was the one who made me believe, she was the one that made me realise the war in my head wasn't needed if acceptance and love would be present. She was the one, she was the one..

~~~

Finally an update!!

What did you think of Anne's story? Have you ever heard it before?

Zephaniah being sensitive to it?

Zaven?

Zephaniah done with his own war?

If you leave some comments, it would make my day ❤️ feedback, votes etc much appreciated!!