Free Zoo Station: The Story of Christiane F. by Christiane F., Christina Cartwright

dwelling on all the shit that was happening at school and back at home. I couldn't care less about school anyway. My grades started plummeting around then, going from B's to D's and F's.
    I started to look different, too. I got super skinny because I hardly ate anything anymore. All my pants were suddenly way too big for me. My face looked gaunt. I stood in front of the mirror a lot, and I liked what I saw, the changes I was seeing. I looked more and more like the others in my group of friends. The innocent look on my face had finally fallen away.
    I was totally obsessed with my appearance. I made my mom buy me high heels and skinny jeans. I parted my hair in the middle, grew long bangs, and combed them so they hung long across my face. I wanted to look mysterious so that nobody would see the real me. So that nobody would notice that I actually really wasn't as cool as I wanted to be.
    One evening at the club, Piet asked me if I'd ever dropped acid. I said, “Of course.” I'd heard a lot about LSD by that time. There was always a lot of talk about somebody's latest crazy trip. Piet grinned at me, and I could tell that he didn't believe me so I started making stuff up. I pieced together a story from what I'd heard other people say and concocted my own fantasy trip. But I could see that Piet still didn't buy any of it. He was pretty cynical. By the time I'd finished stumbling through my story, I was pretty embarrassed. Piet just said, “If you want to try, I'll have some really good stuff on Saturday. You can have some if you want.”
    I was looking forward to it. I thought that once I dropped acid, no one could doubt my belonging anymore. When I arrived at the Center House that Saturday, Kessi was already tripping. Piet said, “If you really want to, I'll give you half of one. That's enough for the first time.” He gave me a bit of crumpled cigarette paper with a crumb of acid wrapped in it. But I couldn't just toss it down like that in front of everyone! I was unbelievably excited.I was also kind of scared of being caught. Besides, I thought this occasion called for a more private, ceremonious place. So I went into a bathroom stall, locked myself inside, and swallowed the crumb.
    When I came back, Piet clearly thought that I'd just flushed the pill down the toilet. I waited impatiently for something to happen to me, to prove to the others that I'd swallowed the pill.
    When the club at the Center House closed at 10 p.m., I still didn't feel any different. I went to the subway station with Piet. At the station, we met up with two friends of his, named Frank and Pauli. They were dressed exactly alike, like twins. They were incredibly calm and serene. I liked them. Piet said, “They're on H.” That's what they called heroin. It didn't make an impression on me just then. I was at that very moment even more self-absorbed than usual because I was busy dealing with the effects of the acid, which had just started to kick in.
    After we got into the subway and started moving, I freaked out. It was totally insane. For some reason, I was convinced that I was inside a tin can, and that someone was stirring us around with a gigantic spoon. The banging and clanking of the subway going through the tunnel was terrifying. I didn't think I could take the noise for even one more second. The people in the subway all had horribly distorted faces, too, like masks, like pig faces. By which I mean, they looked exactly like they always did: like a bunch of losers. But now I could see so much more clearly how disgusting and ignorant these working stiffs really were. I could imagine them all having just left some fucking bar or some shitty job. All of these grotesque, porky faces finish their day and then it's back to bed, and then it's back to work again, and then they turn the TV on, and then that's it. I thought, Wow, you're lucky that you're not one of them. You're lucky that you have friends. That you're on acid and know what's important and