Give Me That Body (Oneshots)

Mina (2011) - A Letter to Laurent, "Vampires in Rome"

Dear Sir,

It is suddenly that I am able to correspond with you. After a long time, a friend of my old man has come home and stayed with us, and he shared your address in Paris with me. I am sorry that when you have come so long ago, I did not speak with you. You thought that I am blind but I am not, sir. It is the case that I am deaf, so I was too embarrassed to look at you. I thought we could not communicate, and I think that you are a great man to be known to Vasvius. So you see that I can write in English. It is my aim that you will come to Italy and stay with us. I think that if you are his same age, the most important thing is to make good friends.

You talked with him a long time, and I do not know what was said between you. I will tell you about myself. I want to tell. I am bursting to talk to one of us, and maybe you are a kindly person, and will come and dine with us sometime. Maybe if you know me a little, we will understand each other and not have to say much when we meet.

I met Vasvius when I was fifteen, in 1934, and I think he liked me for the same reason I saw on your lips you said "Beautiful" to me. Right? I have never been an arrogant person, if that is the right word, but by that time I had few options. At that time, how should I say it. It was the case that from a small child, nuns raised me. I do not know why, but as a child, they took my parts from me. I have little memory of being a whole man, and so it is easy for other men to say that I am small and lovely like a woman. I think that you are very lovely, too. Perhaps my father was a rapist. Perhaps the nuns needed flesh for magic.

I met him in an outdoor cafe, where I was taking a little espresso on my work break. I worked as a typist most afternoons, and I hoped to be a clerk in a firm. It is as easy to hope for impossible things as possible ones. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it startled me, and it was even more startling to see a handsome man on the other end of that hand, young but handsome to my eyes. I am certain that I stared at him, and like most people, he understood quickly that I cannot hear.

He sat down with me in the sunshine and crossed his legs. He sat down like an important person, and he rolled his shoulders and tapped his fingers on the glass table. His hair is so wild. His short, curly hair. Broad shoulders. He is my teddybear. He is very fierce. On my napkin he drew a picture of his car, a cheap old Lancia, and I nodded yes, not even thinking a dirty thought for a moment. I did not think much about it. I got into his car, and I never looked back.

Since the first day, he and I have had blood between us. You may have some of mine, too, if it will help you to feel closer to me. I like it. I like to be bitten. I always have.

In his car, he drove me out of Rome and into the countryside, but not very far, because he could not control himself. He kissed my fingers, and my wrists, and when he bit me at the crook of my elbow I think I did not make any sound. When he kissed me, I tasted iron on his lips, and he gave me a handkerchief to cover the punctures with. I lived in his house. We communicated very little the first few days. Until, one night, when he had bitten me, I don't know exactly why but I have always been more emotional than other men. He had drunk from me and I had begun to cry alone to myself. 

I was not afraid, not homesick. I don't know why I cried. I felt a sense of emptiness, of having been emptied. I can read lips but I am not good at it. There was no such thing as LIS then or special schools. He tried to talk to me but I was too upset to pay attention, and he twined his fingers with mine, so I thought maybe even though he was not a man, he liked men, or merely a good enough person to comfort me. I had not thought about liking him. I suppose after that, I felt closer to him.

When he was away, I cleaned. He brought me flour, butter, eggs, and a side of bacon. I cooked. At the end of the first week, I put my hand out for money. He gave it to me. But it didn't matter. I barely ate anything.

He was like a beast, a barbarian. He did not know how to be like people, it seemed to me. He was like a bear with a hat on, but he had many books in different languages, and sometimes at night we read them together. When I wanted him to turn the page I would tap his hand with my thumb. I liked to kiss him because it made us feel closer. I respected him. He seemed to understand me. He tattooed me with his teeth. When I was too weak from being drunk from, he helped me to the bathroom and washed me if I could not wash my self. When I was like that, and barely able to walk, he seemed to worship me. His features became very soft, and worried, and I would hold his face between my hands and stroke him.

When I died, it was because of infection. It was because of blood poisoning. One of the punctures had become infected, and because of the state of my skin, with all of the bites and the bruises, it was not possible to see a doctor. In any case, there was no penicillin for people then. When he made me, it made him very sick, but we both survived. He takes care of me. After the war, after the country had begun to rebuild, we moved into the city. Until you came, I had never seen any others up close. There are vampires in Rome, but I know that Vasvius is old because they never come near.

I was anxious, therefore, when Vasvius got up to get the door. Nearly thirty years together, and we had never had a single visitor. You know what happened then. I sat on the couch by the window and didn't look at you, or at anything, and you knew that there was something to me but not what. I remember that you wept, and that when Vasvius tried to touch you, you left. You left a knife behind. Did you want to kill someone? My bear? 

Can you tell me more about us? More about Vasvius? What did you do to the inside of my head, when you made it many colors? How can you do that? It is very important that you tell me. 

Come here, and we will let you into our bed. I want to see how you are beneath your clothes and if in any way you are different from Vasvius and I. I want to kiss you, and press my lips against your lips so that I can feel the hard, sharp teeth beneath. Come and tell me about ourselves. I am his Mina. Who are you? These days, it is still the case that I cry a lot and don't know why. Should we cry together?

Do not try to forget about us. Our door is open for you. And I hope that you will come. It is the second time I send this letter, because the first time it was returned. Maybe you will receive it this time. Our new friend, Vivacio, told me he is certain that this is the right address. I will keep trying.

With affection,

Mina.