Foreword: It took me a lot of effort to write down this experience here and even more to publish it and thus possibly face accusations. The shame is still deep and so is my confusion about my own behavior. I can only ask not to condemn me in advance.
This experience is certainly triggering, so I ask you to handle it responsibly.
Blood, blood everywhere
When I was 18, I was happily taken in by a clique of crazy goth people. They replaced my family. There was a hard core of 6 or 7 young people and an estimated 20 others who came and went, and whose presence was simply to be enjoyed. From the stubborn emo, to the super-goth, to the long-haired joker, we had everything with us – and most of them had a package to carry. They questioned what others took for granted and looked beyond their own horizons – here I felt at home with my own little package.
We loved to spend our Friday evenings with a beer in our favorite pub with loud metal music until the early morning hours. At that time I was living out what was popping up inside me. Desire for pain and dominance? No problem, the guy in the corner looks good and is known for his bondage games… Fancy a threesome or a snog with the convinced hetero girl over there? A challenge and soon a win. I had unforgettable fun and forgot about constraints and shadows.
This story here begins on such an evening in a pub. We had arranged it as a meeting place to move to a private party during the course of the evening.
From here we wanted to warm up to Corinna. Corinna was the latest “achievement” of Lea. A sweet introverted girl whose shy look from big eyes made me curious. Out of decency, I had not dared to make any advances. Lea was not best friends with the rest of the clique, but nothing justified crossing that moral line and approaching Corinna in a way Lea intended for herself. I kept to my couple with whom I had become quite intimate not a week earlier. She enjoyed the female attention, his breast swelled like a rooster. After an hour we squeezed ourselves into Corinna’s Corolla. In youthful recklessness one of us finally sat in the trunk. Seven of us (!) drove to Corinna’s parents’ house. And even though she often looked sad and her scars had not remained hidden from us, Corinna’s mood dissolved in our presence.
Lea had introduced them only a few weeks before. She often sat quietly in her corner and reacted mainly when she was spoken to directly, but otherwise did not participate much. Lea didn’t seem to mind, she continued in her advances.
Soon after we arrived at Corinna’s house, we populated her bedroom, which was comfortably furnished with pillows and dimmed light. Music came out of the speakers and its dark element met our taste. I spent most of the evening laughing out loud, flirting wildly, dancing and relaxing. My attention was focused on my couple, who gladly accepted me into their circle. Beer and sticky cocktails did the rest.
Until the moment Lea came rushing into the bedroom with a pale face and screaming in horror against the music, I hadn’t quite realized what she and Corinna had been up to in her corner. Another one turned the music down so that it could be understood. Her eyes were wide open. Her body language spoke volumes. Something was not right at all.
“Cori locked herself in the bathroom! I don’t know what she’s doing in there!” Lea pressed out.
“What happened!?, I hissed with a gloomy look as I walked past Lea into the hallway and headed for the bathroom. My suspicion was that her advances had gone from pure wordplay to an assault. That she had ‘overlooked’ a border and that Corinna, feeling cornered, had fled. Agitated by the alcohol and in an apparently unstable condition, she had perceived herself as a victim and did the first thing she could think of to deal with it…
In front of the bathroom I knocked softly against the door, I could not hear anything. The others had followed me, crowded into the small hallway and looked at me with big eyes.
“Hey, Corinna. I’m here. Would you like to open up for me? It’s all right, nobody’s blaming you. I worry about you. Will you open the door for me, please? I’ll send the others back, if you like. All is well,” I prayed down in a calm voice. I wanted to calm her down with this chant, to show her that there was no reason to go any further. No one really knew how far she had perhaps already gone. My couple was about to call the police when Cori opened the door a crack, not looking at me, but whispering in a broken voice, demanding that everyone leave except me. I didn’t hesitate for a second to fulfill her request, just wondering why she wanted to keep me here of all people. I had prepared myself to call the ambulance and then leave her alone.
After I had thrown everyone more or less out of this house, which was a complete stranger to me, I ran back upstairs. They accepted it with little amusement. After only 3 minutes, I stood in front of the door again, collected myself and entered the small bathroom. She opened and…
…and my breath faltered.
Blood, there was blood everywhere. The floor in front of the guard basin was full of it. She had hidden her arm when she opened the door for me and only now did I realize the extent of the situation. I entered the little room, kneeled down next to her on the floor, but my concentration was gone. She sat on the white tiles as a pitiful pile of misery, staring at her own blood and still holding the blade in her hand. A razor blade, of all things. The alcohol did the rest, the blood was thin as it flowed from her arm.
I came close to her, not looking at her. I just wanted to let her feel that I was there and that I accepted her with her shadow. Then I reached for her hand, took the blade from her and put it away. I began to wipe the blood away, now completely confused myself, at least a little with paper. It was hopeless and foolish, so I let it go and instead pulled her into the bedroom by her upper arm and with decisive words. She kept mumbling that she didn’t want me to call an ambulance. But the depth of her cuts and all that blood worried me. I sat her down on the mattress where I had kissed and laughed with Katja just 20 minutes ago. The silence rang in my ears.
Corinna just sat there, with red cheeks and tear-stained eyes – and I could feel her pain. She had been inflicted with a wound whose mirror image was the scars on her body. I felt the soft mattress beneath me, I smelled her shampoo and blood… and then I did something I am still insanely ashamed of today. I took her arm covered in blood and licked it. I tasted the blood, which was still leaving her body in little rivulets and something in my chest opened wide.
“What are you doing?” she whispered in a tense voice. And I did not look at her, but only at her arm. To this day – and I am bitterly ashamed of this, too – I feel inner dark calm, as if I were wrapped in a warm blanket and as if the sounds of the world had ceased to a murmur.
I moved up to her, took her in my arms and breathed deeply. I realized what I had just done and my heart broke. I suppressed the feeling and started to convince her again to call a doctor.
“We have to call an ambulance, it looks bad. Please let me do it. I will go with you…”
And finally her resistance crumbled.
I called the ambulance, cleaned her arm until it arrived, packed her bag and then dragged her out of the house into the car, relieved that someone would take some of the responsibility off my shoulders.
The rest of the night blurs into a picture that is no longer entirely clear to me. The sequence of some scenes after that seems to obey no fixed order. My mother came to pick me up. Her parents had come home in the meantime and confessed to the accusations their own daughter had made against them, my mother was speechless and finally I found myself at home, infinitely tired and confused. My mother had refused to drive me to the hospital, I had abandoned Corinna…
I turned my back on my clique shortly afterwards. They accused me of kicking them out and I couldn’t talk about what had actually happened.
I never heard from Corinna again, she did not react to my messages. Lea had also disappeared from the face of the earth.
What had happened there? And what on earth had I done?
Many years later, I heard from friends that Corinna had moved to another state, finished school and had a job.
This memory was long suppressed by me, at least in its details. Only with time did I dare to bring it out again. With my ever-increasing desire for blood, I finally began to make an obvious connection to this experience. Had I suffered a trauma and therefore this thirst? Was it simply an unconscious way to deal with it, a mental disorder?
But why had I done this at all? Was there a vampyric behavioral pattern that was already in place and that made me do this stupid thing in the first place?
Did I just want to build up closeness? Show her that it was okay to be wounded and that I didn’t hesitate to accept her and her shadow?
I still puzzle about it today.
Meanwhile, my awakening is progressing. By now I would be ready to take a step towards implementation, to taste blood again, but now Corona is in my way. Let’s see how it goes on.