I’m not insane, even if it looks like it.

They keep telling me that “I am mentally challenged and a little awareness impaired” but they are the crazy ones. How can I be insane if I can calmly analyze the situation and tell them that I am perfectly well? Any psychanalyst will tell you that I am not, in any way, crazy. But they brought me here, a psychiatric hospital, in a room with no door knob on my side and soft walls. They really sucks. They’re really blind.

It was a vampire, not much of one, though. Very far from Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise in “Interview with a Vampire”. He looked like he was being chased with his beady little eyes and his dust covered clothes. I saw him feed on little girl in a dark alley, in this city, noone stops even for a child being murdered, or worst. I saw him grappling the scary girl and bite her, not in the neck, but in the arm. I guess he was scared too. Afraid of being discovered or afraid of losing his prey, I don’t know. I can’t tell.

So, he was biting here and I was just watching, an anonymus face in the continuous flow of people in the city. He was looking behind his shoulder at every two or three seconds, so I catched a good glimpse of his face. His eyes. His lips. His pointy nose. I don’t think he really saw me, but, who knows? I didn’t enjoyed much that brutal murder, but, I saw worst movies.

The girl died soon, and, apparently, he was satisfied because he dumped her body in a container and started to walk. In my direction. Slowly. Calmly. Not his first victim, I’d say. I started to walk backwards, keeping myself in the shadows as much as possible. Not making noises. I was caught in the human river of people coming out of work, going out to work or just hanging to a place unknown. I disappeared. He too.

Well, they didn’t really believed my story at the police station, of course, who will? They found the body. They told me her name. Clarissa. I described the man as much as I could remembered him and they let me go. Not for long. When they called me back, I told them again about the Vampire and they didn’t really appreciated it. They called this hospital and here I am. Waiting. Waiting for my new doctor to come and see me.

Now is probably the time to write “The doctor was the Vampire I saw and he killed me. Sucking my blood.” but this kind of story don’t really happen. Or not always, I guess. My psychyatrist was a tall man, old and really joyful. He tried to help me, but I think he’s the one who is crazy. Well, as much as a normal person can go insane without losing it completly. He said that I could move on and continue my life. I am cured.

Cured, maybe, but I still haven’t found the Vampire, so I will make it easier for him to find me. I have taken a little girl from school. Who cares about one more little girl? I just have to wait and he will come soon, so I will be able to prove that I am perfectly sane. I’m prepared, you know. Stakes, holy water and all the stuff. I just have to wait, he will surely come tonight or tomorrow…