Annie Frank Monologue

Eva Heyman was a young girl who grew up Jewish in the holocaust era. Eva Heyman’s family was broken and totally assimilated. Her parents divorced when she was a child, leaving Eva to her grandparents and her Austrian governess. Eva’s father did not live that far away, but rarely was in her life. Her mother lived in Budapest and did not see much of her daughter. Her mother had remarried and was living in a different country. Despite all else, Eva started keeping a diary to write down her thoughts, her experiences, and what was going on in the world around her.

She had discovered the power of words and it felt so exhilarating! She wrote and explored her new found creative love with passion until the door flew open and Miss Muller and Miss Margot rushed in beaming, "We're heard that the war will soon be over and everyone will be freed." Willy jumped up into the air and twirled and then ran over laughing and hugged the ladies. Joseph who was still feeling rather ill sat and clapped his hands and coughed twice. And Anna smiled happily dropped her pen and paper and declared, "I can't believe that we had survived in your basement for so long. It will be such a pleasure to feel the sunshine on my shoulders again." then she stood up and began to twirl around, and around. Midway through her third twirl a violently tremor tossed her to the floor. Then there was another shake and a loud crash as a squad of German soldiers kicked in the front door. Once the soldiers were in they marched around their blacks boots making a click clock sound on the wood floors as they searching. Everyone held their breath and listened as the soldiers opened squeaky doors and then slamming them shut, door after door until finally they entered into the tiny room where the group five was huddled together. Four were on their feet and other remained seated. The tall SS officer who was in charge smiled at the them and mocked, "We're making merriment yes?" Then he pointed to them squinting his small devious blue eyes and demanded, "What's your names?" Everyone gave their name and he frowned at Joseph and through clenched teeth snickered, "You let's go." Miss Margot ran over and stood in front of Joseph and cried, "No, not him, he has hasn't done anything!" One of the soldiers yelled, "Be quiet and get out the way old lady their only being taken a labor camp. Then he knocked her to the floor with the butt of his gun. Willy gasped for air and Anna dashed over to help her up. The officer smirked with

(Juan and Eva are arriving to a night at the opera and sit down to applause. Music starts. Eva and Juan enjoy the music until, suddenly, Eva doubles over in pain and starts gasping for breath. )

It was December fourth, two thousand fourteen; a sad, scary day for sure. This day was the day Amy LaVancha was diagnosed with cancer. Hodgkin's Lymphoma cancer. Though this cancer has an eighty six percent survival rate after five years, it was still super scary.

“I think you owe it to Jefferson,” Vivian told me one out of the blue, “He’d want for you to read it. He told Paul to give it to you on that day.” We had been sitting in sitting room, watching the kids keep to themselves on the floor. I knew what she was talking about. She wanted me to read Jefferson’s journal.

Mr. Frank: It is just as dangerous to hide seven as it is to hide eight.

Isolation of the Human Spirit In “The Diary of a Young Girl” by Anne Frank, a thirteen year old girl becomes one of the most well-known victims of World War II by writing every devastating experience she goes through during the 1940’s in her diary she calls “kitty”. This remarkable story provides every diary entry Frank wrote, and about what it was like being Jewish while hiding in a place her family called the ‘Secret Annex’ during World War II. During the family’s time of hiding, they each were required to wake up at 6:45 each morning, they could not go outside, and they were not able to turn on the lights once it got dark. Due to the fact that all of Frank’s time was occupied indoors, she had spent most of her time reading books and writing in her diary.

Bravery, a simple word that means so much. To speak up, even when it would be easier to be quiet. There comes a time in all of our lives where we make a decision in a certain situation to do the right thing even if we are scared of the consequence. I remember when I was in seventh grade I had this friend, Amanda, that would get picked on by this bigger girl. Now, I know it is not up to me to "fight battles" for others but bullying is wrong. Amanda did not acknowledge this girl at all, and usually the girl would just say mean things but one day it escalated. I guess the girl was tired of being ignored so she decided to make a scene in front of everyone, and i was tired of my friend not wanting to come to school because of this.

While everyone in the amphitheater had their eyes glued to my former beloved, I was busy indicating him to the door that held the promise of death. Looking into his eyes, I could see the hopefulness that he had to live another day hidden behind the mask of fear that was plastered on his face. After I had discretely signaled the young man to the door on the right, he seemed oblivious to what was really coming for him in the next waning moments. All that he could picture in his mind was a beautiful young lady awaiting him on the other side of that door, not a bloodthirsty tiger who was ready to rip him to shreds. However, I believe that he should have expected exactly what he will find behind that door, for he was completely aware of my barbaric side.

Today has been an amazing day. I know this is unbelievable but the whole day I hanged out with teenagers. TEENAGERS!!!! I know right. How am I still alive? They are not actually that bad. Don’t worry they are not strangers. I’m giving them some money for a fund they are running and I told them about my visits to the zoo so I invited them. They are fun. I will tell you this, they have complete different personalities. Oh… I forgot to tell you their names, John and Lorraine. John seems like a rebel and a trouble maker to me. He’s like a lady man. I could smell the cigarette and alcohol on him but I didn’t want to say anything about it. I just figured he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents and they probably don’t care. Lorraine is

Ok, as you sound French, I shall respond in the style of Bernard-Henri Lévy a man you may be aware of who speaks your tongue and is as provocative as they come...

remember being pregnant with my eldest daughter, perusing Facebook, when a mom friend posted a picture of her son’s poop on her wall. “He did it … he finally did it!” was captioned on the photo. As I stared at the newsfeed page, all I could think of was, ‘why?’ I mean really, who does this, who in their right mind does this? I don’t want to look at my own poo … why the heck would I want to look at his all grossed up in the toilet? My friend’s joyous celebration of her potty trained offspring was my first encounter with a mom who liked to talk about poop. Somehow, I naively thought that this annoying trait would never, ever hit me as a mother. Yet, a few days after the birth of my first daughter, I found myself doing something I never thought I would do: obsessing about stinky number twos.

Alice was born. A tiny bundle wrapped in pink, warm and soft, soft now. Held and adored, fawned over by others. Sweet, delicate, beautiful, beautiful. Like a flower, a rose.

Sophie was a polish mother who had two children. Her children are Jan and Eva. They were put on a train to Auschwitz the Nazi Concentration camp. She hoped she would be sent to a labor camp in Germany where it was less ruthless. To her luck that wasn’t were she was going she was sent off to the concentration camp with her children to suffer. The trip was excruciating. The horrific smell, being uncomfortable whether they were sitting down or standing up. They received a not saying all the Jews have gone to the gas chamber. Sophie joined the girls that were heading toward the concentration camp with them to a prayer. During the train ride her children had been brave, but the hunger began to torment her daughter. Sophie cradled her to soother

street and put him in my arms, he collapsed on the playground and peed out blood. Well I don’t know what happened between then and now he was okay when I left. Not able to take it any more I screamed, you liar they can take your sorry behind out of here but they are not going to take my son. He stormed out the door I didn’t care, quickly changing clothes I went back to the hospital and stayed with my son.