Anne Frank Novels & Stories

Her blood and price on the slave market were higher this way. “We’ll get rid of the marks, I promise. Here, get dressed. There is food waiting for you.” After a few minutes, I tucked the girl into a clean, warm bed, handing her the food afterward. It consisted of simple porridge with fruits and tea. “Eat.” Making myself comfortable in a chair I watched her every move until she put the tray aside. “Good. Now, tell me, what is your name?” “Jo- Jocelyn.” she stuttered after some time, though I almost missed the sound.

She muttered and continue walking,she took the stairs "Wow,how can a house be this big?" She muttered,still looking around. She finally saw another maid "Hi" She said "Oh,hello. I'm Maggie,are you new here?" The maid asked with a smile "Yeah,Annabella" Annabella said "So,where are you going?" Maggie asked "The kids room" Annabella replied "The fifth door" Maggie smiled "Thank you" Annabella immediately said and turned,when she got to the fifth room door,she stopped and groaned

Anna began to wonder if that was a normal thing in Regis. ″And where are you two coming from?″ Mrs. Kyle asked as she gave them a piercing gaze. ″We're sorry ma'am. She's new,″ Brooke said, gesturing to Anna, ″and didn't know her way around.″ ″I see. Please introduce yourself to the class,″ the teacher said. This was the moment Anna dreaded the most but she just had to do it. She faced the glass and said. ″Hi, everyone. My name is Annabelle Siromani.″

My hands are shaking when I saw a name at the bottom of the book. ‘Hannah Mae G. De Vera'

Anne was silent as she moved quickly. Just as Anne stepped onto land, an elderly man in a suit got out of his car to greet her. He was Khufra Eslora, the butler of the Luckser family. There were also others coming out of ghiet cars. They were all dressed in similarly formal clothes.

Diana suddenly asked, a shocked expression marring her features as she expectantly stared at the woman. "Yes, unfortunately. They had died into a plane crash when master Nicholas was only sixteen," The girl’s heart sunk at the hearing of such thing, feeling such a deep sorrow bloom into her chest for she herself had not too long ago experienced such pain too. The pain of losing a parent. "Come on now, girl," Miss Nancy’s voice abruptly brought her back to reality as she placed a fork next to her plate, effectvely urging her to start eating. "Hurry up or you will be late to your job,"

“Go ahead.” Norah smiled encouragingly. She cleared her throat, her voice crackling softly. “My name is Annamaria Einar, and I was kept in that place for over fifteen years.” Unease rippled over the others, causing many to shift in their seats. Pitying glances were thrown her way, but she acknowledged none of them. “I was taken for my ability, as was my youngest daughter. They let me believe she was dead.” A high-pitched, trembling voice carved through the silence. The woman across from us shook like a leaf as she spoke, her startlingly blue eyes unnaturally wide on her face.

Think carefully about this as it relates to your overall happiness. From behind, Rebecca gently admonished Anne. She felt pity for this little girl named Anna when she first met her ten years ago. She fell into a hunter's trap and became lost in the forest when saving her little sister. It was challenging to wait for someone to rescue him from the wolf's den, but he unexpectedly jumped into the tiger's den. The eight-year-old girl had to run all night until she passed out in front of her door from exhaustion.

The words sank into me like a brand. By the time I returned home, dawn was brushing the horizon. My guards trailed me silently back into the mansion. My parents were asleep, thank the moon, so I went straight upstairs to my room. But I couldn’t rest. Instead, I went to the corner where a hidden latch revealed the entrance to my secret chamber. It was a place only I knew existed, my sanctuary, my space for truth. Inside, the walls were covered with parchment, sketches, and scraps of notes. I lit a lantern and began adding more to the mess. Pictures, diagrams, threads tying one memory to another.