/lit/ - Literature

Do we have any drawfags around willing to do cute Anne art?

>September 10th, 1944
>somewhere outside Eindhoven, the Netherlands
>a column of German trucks sped past an abandoned chapel, completely oblivious of the occupants
>Anne Frank quietly eyed through a hole in the covered up window
>when they had arrived back in July, Germans seldom traveled this road, now they drove by ever more frequently
>at first they were heading South, but now, most headed North, away from the Allies, back towards Germany
>the sight gave her a small degree of comfort, it reminded her how close to the end they really were
>this terrible war, that had robbed her and countless others of the flower of their youth and innocence would be over, soon
>her mind drifted to the news the pastor had given them when he stopped by a few days ago, Paris had been liberated
>in happier times, Paris wouldn't have been even a day's travel away, the Allies were so close that she could almost taste the freedom with her own tongue
>if they could just stay hidden for a few more weeks, a few more days even, then all of them would be safe
>it wasn't long before she felt her other "reassurance"
>she felt the tortured skin on her stomach abruptly expand as the baby kicked, hard
>the impact was so hard that she gasped for air
>"You okay Anne?" came a familiar voice
>Anne stumbled, "I-I'm fine Peter."
>"Are you sure? Looks like you got the wind knocked out of you."
>"It's nothing."
>"I think you need to have a seat."
>Peter gently took Anne by her hand and guided her as she waddled to the nearest bench
>after nine months, her stomach become so round and so huge that she could barely walk
>"There. Stay right there.”
>Peter soon returned with a cup, “drink”
>Anne tasted the cold liquid (neither of them dared use the small stove in the center in the day), it was sweet with vanilla, milk and apples, just the way she liked it
>ever since she had become pregnant, Anne’s sweet tooth had exploded, she craved it constantly
>it made her feel guilty, to be demanding sweets in a time when even the most basic essentials were in short supply
>she managed to utter out a “thank you” in between sips
>when the cup was halfway empty, Anne lowered the cup her mouth, now partially stained with something stick
>”H-How did you make this?”
>”You’re not the only with her head buried in books.”
>Anne shot him an annoyed glare
>she knew he was only teasing, but she wished he would take her diary more seriously, her writing at improved so much over the last year
>”What have you been writing lately in that thing anyway?”
>Anne decided to be honest, “not much, there’s so little to write about. And when I do try to write, I just can’t… concentrate. I’ve just been editing it mostly.”
>”Well let’s hope this helps your concentration.”
>Anne took another sip, she saw as Peter eyed her taking a gulp

>July, 1944
>Anne opened her right eye, peering her darkened room
>finally the dummkopf was asleep, his snores giving it away
>slowly and methodically, Anne pulled the covers off her aching body
>the night air was unusually warm, perfect
>Anne slowly pulled herself up, it was harder than she thought
>she put her hand on her belly and ran her hand along the curve
>where there was once slim and soft flesh, a hard round bump had replaced it
>it was heavy, and made sleeping on her back unbearable at times
>according to Margot, she was "only" seven months along, but Anne already felt ready to burst
>she was the size of a planet, and she still had another two months to go? Between her changing body and the non-stop quarreling, it made her life unbearable
>her diary had been devoid of entries for days, her mind too scattered by other thoughts to focus
>of course there was one thing that would make it bearable, to drive away the fear and shame her mind, if for just a few brief moments
>getting up onto her feet, Anne felt the bitterly cold wooden floor touch her toes, the splinters dug into her
>but she did not even bother trying to put on socks let alone shoes
>shoes made noise, and her feet were too swollen for anything to fit anymore
>half waddling, Anne crept towards her door, each creak sending a shiver up her spine
>resting herself against the door, Anne slowly pushed it open
>the Annexe was deathly quiet, apart from dummkopf's snoring and the pounding of her own heart
>Anne slid out of her room into the crammed hallway (made more so by her massive distended womb), carefully closing the door behind her
>she waddled about the hall towards his room
>at last reaching the door, Anne slowly pushed it open with her finger and peered inside with one eye
>she could see him lying fast asleep on a couch that was too short him
>Peter, the boy who had fathered her baby
>he was no more ready for fatherhood than she was for motherhood
>and yet, here they were, going to be parents before the end of Autumn
>quietly Anne slid into the room and past Mr. and Mrs. van Pels
>Anne remembered the the first time she had tried this and Mrs. van Pels had woken with a start
>fortunately she had been able to bluff her way out of it, after all the bathroom was so hard to find in this darkness
>she was sure however such an excuse would not work a second time
>as much as the Franks and van Pels quarreled and bickered, they agreed on one thing, keeping her and Peter apart
>still, Anne persevered

>>14670522
>and yet, here they were, going to be parents before the end of Autumn
>quietly Anne slid into the room and past Mr. and Mrs. van Pels
>Anne remembered the the first time she had tried this and Mrs. van Pels had woken with a start
>fortunately she had been able to bluff her way out of it, after all the bathroom was so hard to find in this darkness
>she was sure however such an excuse would not work a second time
>as much as the Franks and van Pels quarreled and bickered, they agreed on one thing, keeping her and Peter apart
>still, Anne persevered
>as she finally reached Peter, she felt a pang of hesitation, she would no doubt get into trouble for this
>but at the same time, Anne remembered how she had seen how he couldn't help but stare at her earlier at dinner
>whenever shot a glance at her growing belly, his pants contorted with discomfort
>Margot thought it was because he found the sight of her deformed and distended stomach repulsive, but Anne knew better
>Anne knew that face, she knew exactly what he wanted
>and Peter owed her this after everything
>Anne poked him, at first Peter seemed unwilling to stir, but she persisted
>finally Peter opened his eyes, he almost cried out in surprised but Anne shoved her hand over his face before he could wake anyone else
>"Shhhhhhh", she whispered, putting her finger to her mouth
>she gestured Peter to follow her
>Peter managed to pull himself and Anne helped him out of the room
>through the darkness they managed to reach the false bookcase that shielded their refuge
>it had been a long time since had set foot outside, she was starting to forget what it’s like to be on the outside
>Anne pressed the hidden button and the door slid open
>she knew she was definitely wasn't supposed to but she couldn't help it, her need was overpowering
>Peter seemed to hesitate, Anne grabbed him by the arm and dragged him along
>together, they made their way through the Opekta plant, its once bustling halls now sat eerily silent and abandoned, only the moonlight shining through the window illuminating their way
>suddenly, Anne heard an all-too familar buzzing sound, she stopped and looked up, Peter did the same
>the buzz turned into a shrill roar as a low flying aircraft thundered by, the sound sent a shiver up Anne's spine, it was the same roar from the nightmares that plagued her nightly
>the planes had been showing up more frequently since this "D-Day" last month, they buzzed about like angry bees, swooping in low, sometimes they would blare bizzare music, it was loud and harsh, she hated it
>as much as she wanted the Allies to come and set her free, she also wanted to get a night's sleep
>the thought of liberation only reminded Anne much she desperately wanted to escape, anywhere else would do

>>14570708
>Peter would provide her with an escape of sorts
>at last the plane seemed to veer off, leaving two pounding hearts behind
>as Anne nervously wiped the sweat off her forehead, she felt a kick in her womb
>reflexibly, she grabbed Peter's hand and placed it on her stomach, he needed to be reminded as much as her that in spite of all the pain, discomfort and mess, she was carrying a sweet secret inside her
>she watched his eyes light up, marveling at the life that only separated by a thin layer of flesh
>a gust of wind snapped Anne back into reality, she felt her need tugging at her
>she softly took Peter's hand again, "come"
>they began climbing the stairs, Anne had always hated stairs, now she found them almost impossible to climb with her huge belly weighing her down
>thankfully Peter seemed to be pushing her up himself
>at last she managed to scale the last stair, she tried opening the door but it was heavy, Peter joined in and gave it a nudge, finally forcing it open
>Anne and Peter emerged onto the roof, for the first time in months Anne could see the Amsterdam skyline clear, it was a beautiful sight
>the skies were now clear,the plane had since moved on
>good, Anne didn't want any distractions
>she turned and planted a kiss on Peter's mouth, at first he seemed to hesitate, then he joined in

I’ll post the rest soon, gotta do some edits

Imagine being nine months pregnant and cooped up in an attic for so long that you start to forget what it’s like to be on the outside.

Imagine being horny and hormonal every waking moment of the day.

Imagine your diary being devoid of entries for days on end as pregnancy brain prevents you from forming a cogent thought in your head.

Imagine having to go barefoot all the time because your feet are too swollen for your shoes and socks to bear and having to listen for the constant threat of creaks as you waddle about the cold wooden floor, feeling the splinters dig into your toes.

Imagine being plagued with nightmares at night and desperately wishing for some kind of escape.

Imagine being in there with Peter, they boy who fathered your baby, no more ready for fatherhood than you are for motherhood.

Imagine seeing him contort his pants with discomfort whenever he looks at your growing belly.

Imagine knowing what he really wants.

Imagine waiting until everyone falls asleep and then poking Peter awake, quietly gesturing him to follow you.

Imagine sneaking through the darkened corridors Opekta plant and onto the roof.

Imagine stripping off your dress that’s a few sizes for you and making Peter do the same.

Imagine making Peter lie down and climbing on top of him.

Imagine inserting him inside you because he’s too nervous to do it himself.

Imagine riding Peter like a horsey for what seems like an eternity, with only the moonlight to illuminate his face.

Imagine the sheer ecstasy of of having your insides filled with Peter’s hot and sticky goo.

Imagine looking up at the night sky with Peter and seeing the moon blocked out by chemtrails as armada after armada of Allied warplanes streams overhead on their way to Germany to take the fight to the Nazis’ backyard.

Imagine being reminded that soon, this terrible war will be over and that with any hope, you, Peter and the baby will to see the end of it.

There, fixed it.