Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F. Read online

  I had to go to The Sound by myself now. The next Friday afternoon, I went to a drugstore and bought a packet of ephedrine for 2.95 marks. You could get that without a prescription. I'd gotten to the point where I was no longer taking two, but four or five ephedrine pills. Then I made one more stop at Center House and bummed a joint from someone. I walked to the subway station feeling like I was on top of the world. I didn't think about Kessi; I didn't think about what was going on. I was simply there. I was just floating along in a beautiful, intoxicating, carefree world.

  When I was in the subway, I could tell right away, at every stop, if the people who'd gotten on were going to The Sound. There was a kind of uniform we all shared: bold, fashion-forward clothes, long hair, and outrageous shoes with four-inch platform soles. These people were my idols; they were the stars of The Sound. I wasn't nervous at all anymore when I went out there, even when I was alone. I was really high, and I felt amazing. The weed I'd smoked earlier was obviously good stuff.

  On the steps of The Sound, I bumped into a new boy, whom I hadn't met before, and he said something to me. He seemed really cool: tall; slim; long, blond hair; and incredibly calm. I managed to initiate a conversation with him while we were still on the stairs. Since, after all, I was feeling so awesome and super confident. From the very first sentence, we seemed to understand each other completely. We liked the same music, and we even tripped the same way. His name was Atze. He was the first boy who really made me stop in my tracks. I was crazy for him, right from the start. For the first time in my life, I was in love.

  Once we were in The Sound, Atze introduced me to all of his friends, and they were all really cool. I had no problem jumping right into their conversation. The most popular topic was always drugs and the best ways to get high. And at that point in time, I'd had as much experience as anyone else I was likely to run into. Atze's friends also talked a lot about heroin, or “H,” as they called it. Everyone agreed that it was the end of the line, the ultimate low point. Once you started with H, they thought, you might as well put a bullet through your head and save yourself some money. I remember saying something around that time about people shooting up being “total loser assholes.” Then we talked about how to alter jeans so that they'd have a tighter fit.

  Since I'd been losing so much weight recently, I'd become a kind of expert in the subject of tailoring. I had to alter my jeans almost weekly. Skintight pants were a kind of uniform for people who spent their nights at The Sound. I was able to give people sewing tips. But making jeans fit tighter was the only kind of sewing that I'd ever done.

  I was accepted into Atze's clique almost immediately. I didn't even have to fight for it. I was on a lot of drugs, of course, and I had this new sense of serenity and self-confidence that was surprising even to me. There was another guy in this new clique who I felt an instant connection with. His name was Detlef. He was totally different from Atze. He was cute, kind of childlike, and soft. They called him “babyface.” He was sixteen. He was the one that I felt most at ease with. We could talk about anything. Then there was also this awesome girl, Astrid. She really had her shit together. She was always making these witty comments that would have everyone laughing hysterically. She always knew what to say, no matter what. I admired that. The only one you really had to watch out for was Ralph. He'd really tear into you whenever he saw any sign of weakness or insecurity. When I told this story about the time I was tripping on the subway and started playing with a little kid—who seemed like an angel to me at the time—Ralph cut right in with something about how naïve I was and made my story seem ridiculous. So you had to really watch what you said. I also didn't think this other guy, named Stinger,18 was that cool. He thought he was God's gift to girls, but my experience earlier on with Kathi had made me really suspicious of that kind of character. But Stinger only sort of belonged to the clique; he wasn't a regular.

  So we all talked and talked, and then we finally took a break to go outside to smoke some weed. When The Sound closed down at 5 a.m., I followed the others to the Kurfürstendamm.19

  In the subway back to Rudow, I couldn't help it: I felt so incredibly happy. When I came down from all the pills and the pot, it was like landing on a cloud. I was tired but I was happy; for the first time in my life, I was in love.

  From that day on, I was always impatient for the weekends. Atze was so gentle and affectionate. When we met for the third time in The Sound, he kissed me and I kissed him back. It was pretty innocent. I didn't want any more than that, and Atze seemed to sense as much without us having to talk about it. But that was the difference between the druggies and the drunks: Most of the druggies were really empathetic—at least when it came to their own group of friends. Meanwhile, the drunks would all become really aggressive when they were drunk. All they cared about was sex. For us, other things were more important.

  Atze and I were like brother and sister. He was my big brother. We always walked arm in arm, and he made me feel secure. Atze was sixteen, and even though he hated the work, he had a job as an apprentice to a glass cutter. He had very specific ideas about what a girl should look like. I did my hair the way he wanted me to. And because he was crazy about long overcoats, I went to a secondhand store and found one for myself that had a long slit up the back, which was super stylish.

  I couldn't imagine life without Atze anymore.

  When The Sound closed at five, I didn't bother going straight home anymore; instead, I stayed with the clique. Since we'd all gotten high together, we'd all come down together, too. Then we just bummed around the city until the afternoon. We'd go to see exhibits or head over to the zoo, or we'd just hang out on Kurfürstendamm (or Ku'damm, for short). A lot of the time, these hangout sessions lasted all day long. I kept telling the same old Kessi story to my mom, and I also made up some new girlfriends, at whose houses I was supposed to be staying overnight. I developed an unlimited capacity for creativity and imagination when it came to convincing my mom where and how I spent my weekends.

  During the week I still saw my old friends at Center House. I always sat kind of by myself, looking mysterious. Sometimes I talked about the things I'd seen and done at The Sound. The others couldn't help but admire me. I was just one step ahead of them. But at that time, I didn't know that it was one step further into hell. Neither did I know that many of my old friends would follow me into hell a little later on.

  On the drug scene at The Sound, you could get just about anything. For my part, I did everything, except for heroin. I experimented with Valium, quaaludes, ephedrine, an amphetamine called Captagon (which we called “Cappis”), and of course we always smoked a lot of pot and also managed to drop acid once or twice a week. Uppers and downers—it didn't matter—we swallowed them by the handful. The pills we'd taken conflicted with one another or supplemented each other; often-times we didn't know which was which—and we didn't really care. We were totally out of control.

  With the drugs on hand, you could make yourself feel however you wanted. You could eat more uppers or take more downers. When I was up for dancing, I'd swallow some Cappis and ephedrine, but if I wanted to just sit quietly in a corner or watch a movie at the theater, I'd toss back some Valium and quaaludes. I was really happy and contented at the beginning. At least for a couple of weeks.

  And then something awful happened. I arrived at The Sound on Saturday, as usual, and ran into one of the guys in our clique, on the steps. He said, “Did you know that Atze quit his job?” He was quiet for a while and then said, “Atze's here every night now, you know.” He said it in a kind of funny way, and I realized something was probably seriously wrong. If Atze was here every night, then he would've met other girls, too.

  I asked, “Is something up with Atze?”

  He looked at me and said, “He's got a girlfriend. Moni.”

  I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. But still I had some room for doubt; I had to believe it wasn't true. I ran down into the club. Atze was standing there by himself. It was j
ust like always. He gave me a kiss and then locked my things into his locker. (At The Sound you always put your things in a locker because of all the theft.)

  A little later, this girl Moni arrived. I'd never really noticed her before, but she sat down with our clique as if it was the most natural thing in the world. I stayed to the side, watching her.

  She was completely different from me. Short and plump and always happy—or at least pretending to be. She seemed to be almost mothering Atze. I kept thinking, This can't be happening. How could he dump me for this ridiculous, overweight slut? But I had to admit that she had a really pretty face and beautiful, long, blond hair. Maybe he needs a girl like that, I thought. One who's cheerful and takes care of him. And then what started out as a creeping suspicion grew into a conviction: I was absolutely sure that Atze was dating this girl because he needed someone who would sleep with him. She was clearly the kind of girl who would do that.

  I was totally sober. I didn't want to do anything that night. And when I couldn't stand to watch the two of them anymore, I went to the dance floor just to release some of that energy. When I came back, the two of them were gone. I ran like mad all over the place. When I finally found Atze and Moni, they were in the movie theater that was an extension of The Sound, with their arms wrapped around each other.

  Eventually, I somehow made my way back to the group. Of course, the one person who knew right away that something was wrong was Detlef. He put his arm around my shoulder. I didn't want to cry. I always thought it was tacky to cry in front of everyone, but I'm not sure exactly where I first got that idea. When I couldn't hold the tears back anymore, I ran outside, across the street, and into the park across from The Sound. The tears were just streaming down my face.

  Suddenly, Detlef was standing next to me. He handed me a tissue, and when I had used up that one, he handed me some more. I was too preoccupied with myself at the time to really notice Detlef. Only later did it occur to me how sweet it had been of him to come looking for me.

  I never wanted to see Atze again. I didn't think I would even be able to look him in the eyes again. Especially now, after everyone had seen me sobbing so hysterically. Now everyone knew how dependent I'd been on him. But at least Detlef managed to pull me back into The Sound.

  But when it came down to it, I had to go back anyway because Atze still had the key to the locker. I worked hard to pull myself together, walked into the movie theater (scaring Atze so much that he jumped out of his seat), and got the key. After I got my stuff, though, I wasn't quite up to going back and returning the key. Detlef (who'd never left my side) did it for me instead.

  It was almost 2 a.m. The last subway was gone. I stood in front of The Sound with no idea where to go. I felt like getting high. It didn't matter on what. I just wanted something, and I wanted it right away, in the worst way. But at the same time, I was totally broke. Just then, someone from our Center House clique came by. His name—or his nickname—was Panther, and he was dealing some LSD and always had really good stuff. I hit him up for some and asked if he could give it to me as a present. It worked out, and he gave me one of those really awesome crystal pills. He didn't even ask me why I was so desperate to get high so late at night.

  I immediately swallowed the pill and went back downstairs onto the dance floor. It was a crazy time. I danced like a maniac for an hour or so—probably more. When I stopped, it didn't feel like I was actually tripping yet. I thought that maybe Panther had scammed me. Luckily, a few people from the Center House were there. I went to Piet. He was also on acid. I told him the story with Atze. But of course Piet was already pretty far gone and wasn't really listening. He kept saying things like “Forget it, girl” or “Don't let it get to you.”

  I needed to eat something, so I got myself a vanilla pudding. The whole world just sucks, I thought to myself, and it's depressing as shit. I wanted leave—to return the bowl for the pudding and get my deposit back (there was a theft problem at The Sound so they made you pay a deposit on every glass and bowl to discourage stealing) and go. But then the acid hit me, all at once. It happened like a flash. The bench and I tipped over, and after that, all I remember is just dancing. I danced until the place shut down.

  After closing, I went outside and met up with everyone again—including Atze and Moni. I didn't care at all. I was completely absorbed with some poster outside of the club. Atze and Moni went up to Atze's room.

  The rest of us walked off in the direction of the zoo. Somebody got the idea, on the way, to go to the Europacenter20 instead, and we ended up at the ice-skating rink over there. It was a pretty warm night—it had rained, and there was water on top of the ice. I was sliding through the water, and it seemed to me like I was walking over the ocean.

  Then, out of nowhere, I heard the sound of breaking glass. The boys were over at the ticket booth, and one of them reached through the window he had broken, then broke open a cash register drawer, and was tossing out rolls of cash. Before I caught on to what was happening, everybody was already running away. I was still on the ice, so the first thing I did in my high-heeled boots was fall flat on my face. I was soaking wet. But Detlef waited for me and took me by the hand.

  On the Kurfürstendamm in front of the Café Kranzler, we split up the loot. Everybody got something. I thought that was awesome. I got two rolls of coins totaling ten marks. Everyone was overjoyed—not only because of the money, but also because we'd fooled the two private security guards who watched the Europacenter at night. They'd been after us for a long time. We were totally giddy. We broke open the coin rolls and threw everything up into the air, making it rain quarters in front of the café. The sidewalk was covered with coins.

  We went into a café at Bahnhof Zoo (aka “Zoo” station) that was already open. The whole place was miserable. It gave me the creeps right off the bat. It was the first time I'd been there. It was absolutely disgusting. There were hoboes lying in their own vomit and drunks stumbling around all over the place. I would have never imagined that I'd be spending every afternoon there within just a few months.

  At around six in the morning, I finally went home. Lying in my bed, I could feel myself slipping into my first bad trip. On my wall, I had a poster of a girl smoking a joint. In the lower right-hand corner, there was a small blue stain. It suddenly morphed into this grotesque figure, a real crazy monstrosity. I managed to concentrate on something else just in time.

  I woke up around noon feeling numb and totally hollowed out. Like I was dead. I thought, what are you, worthless? Why would you let your very first boyfriend dump you like that? I went over to the mirror, took a look, and hated what I saw. Just yesterday, when I looked in the mirror I saw a cool and mysterious girl. I was the epitome of heroin chic—just without the heroin. Now I only looked terrible. There were heavy, dark bags under my eyes. My skin was sallow and oily. I had zits.

  I told myself, That's it. No more going to The Sound, no more Atze, no more of that group. Period.

  Over the next few days, I tried to kill off all feelings I had toward others. I didn't take any pills, and I didn't take any acid. Instead, I drank tea with hashish all day long and rolled one joint after another. After a few days, I thought I'd more or less recovered my equilibrium. Everything was cool again. I'd achieved my goal: I wasn't worried about what anyone else thought; I wasn't in love with anybody, and the only person I cared about was myself. I thought I had my feelings under control now, and I never wanted to go to The Sound ever again.

  The next Saturday night, I stayed at home—and it was seriously the longest night of my life. It had been a long time since I hadn't gone to The Sound on a Saturday night. I couldn't bear to just stay home and watch TV, and I couldn't sleep. I didn't have enough pot to get stoned. When I really thought about it, I realized that I couldn't live without The Sound, and I couldn't manage without the people over there anymore. Without them, my life was meaningless.

  I was looking forward to the next Friday even before I really knew that I'd be going
back. I fiddled around with my hair for a while, but then I decided that I'd just leave it alone and not even bother combing it. I thought it would give me a more mysterious, dramatic look and make more of an impact.

  On Friday, before anything else, I went out to get some Valium. I took the pills, chased them with a beer, and then followed those up with a quaalude. Then I took the subway to The Sound. By that point, I was already totally unconcerned about how I was going to be treated by Atze and all the rest. I wasn't worried about much of anything. I borrowed a big hat from somebody, sat at a table, put my head down, and slept almost the entire night.

  I woke up at one point, and Detlef had pushed the hat away from my face and was stroking my hair. He asked what was up. I didn't respond—but I did think it was really sweet, the way he was taking care of me.

  All of a sudden, I had a reason to go to The Sound again. By the next weekend, I was spending all of my time with Detlef.

  Things moved very slowly with Detlef. It wasn't love at first sight, like it was with Atze. At first, at The Sound, we were just hanging out together. We talked a lot. We got along in a completely different way than I was used to. It wasn't a competition, and neither of us was trying to win. Not in conversation, not anywhere. I could talk to him about anything without having to worry about overexposing myself or regretting it later. There was a lot of give-and-take. And occasionally, we were able to change each other's minds.

  I'd liked Detlef from the very beginning, but he wasn't a heartthrob like Atze was. He was too sweet, somehow, and he looked too much like a child. Over time, though, I realized that my friendship with Detlef was a thousand times better than my relationship with Atze ever was. He grew on me, and I started to care for him more and more every weekend, even though I had no intention of becoming dependent on a guy again, like I had with Atze. But at some point, I had to admit to myself that I really liked Detlef. Actually, it was more than that: I was in love with him.