it was a black satin half-slip
with a hem of red lace
I found in my mother’s dresser
it was cool on my skin
I twisted & turned
in front of the mirror
to see it flow
clutching the waist
around my eight-year-old throat
so it was my black cape
dripping with the blood
I’d dragged it through
but it wasn’t long enough
not full enough
meant for my mother’s narrow hips
when I tried to sweep it up
to cover my face
it fell off
it would never be Dracula’s cape
besides my eye brows were wrong
even after I tired to create
those terrifying arches
using eyebrow forms from
my mother’s Elizabeth Arden make up kit
it had dozens of shapes to trace
none were arched enough
so I did what I could
by turning one upside down
spectacular
the mouth full of tomato catchup
was impossible
too thick
for it drip over my teeth
or out of the corners of my mouth
the red was wrong
beet juice was the right colour
but way too thin
the two didn’t mix well either
but those eyebrows were spectacular
they scared even me
in the mirror
when I held a flashlight under my chin
all I needed was the right cape
and a victim
This piece is based on a real memory of me playing with this half-slip. I might have a bit older as well as this memory is in our Royal Ave house which we didn’t move into until I was about that age. Was the slip satin? I don’t know but it was smooth & cool. My mother had, thanks to me Dad, various pieces of sexy lingerie. Did she like it as much as he cleary did?
I was old enough to be left on my own though. I would try on her high-heels but never felt the need to wear her clothes other than playing with those half-slips & sometimes a crinoline. I loved the flare of that stiff fabric as I spun around to watch it spin around.
I had seen Bela Lugosi on TV by then & knew in a very general what it was about – capes, looking over one that covered the face & of course drinking blood. I was frightened mainly by that face, the arch of his eyebrows not by what he was doing. All I remembered of the plot was people bending to his will & then him turning into a bat. It wasn’t until I saw the film as an ‘adult’ that it made sense to me.
The things done for the color of blood weren’t that elaborate & were tried as a Halloween effect not as a part of this actual moment.
Looking back now I’m not sure if I really to be a vampire as much as I wanted his mind control power. Who cares about consent as I bend you to my will. I didn’t want victims either, my fear of getting caught playing with the slip was enough fear for me. I doubt if I was that interested in victims as I was in no longer being one. Besides (spoiler alert) Dracula dies in the end.
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