I am a Vampire. I come from a long bloodline of Vampires: my father is a Vampire, his father was a Vampire, his grandfather was a Vampire, and so on. My mother is not a Vampire. She’s a normal human being like most of you reading this. Because of my mixed blood, I do not look very much like your typical Vampire. I am not pale nor do I have the giant lateral incisors. However, I do get pretty bad reactions to garlic on my food and I have to wear loads of suntan lotion. That wouldn’t give it away, though, because I have red hair and I would burn easily regardless. I am nonetheless, a Vampire.

I discovered my family history at the age of four. One night, as I was fast asleep, I awoke to a slight hissing and tapping coming from my closet. As any normal four year-old, I was scared. I cowered in my bed, hoping for it to go away – whatever it was. It didn’t. It just got louder and louder and louder, and soon I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I grabbed my plastic baseball bat and opened up my closet door – only to find my dad inside, hissing at me.

It was the first moment I remember pissing myself. I ran to my mom and cried. My dad came in, only to scare me some more. It was a joke to him – his version of initiation into a new lifestyle. He explained to me what he and I were. I was scared – I couldn’t watch “My Girl” without being frightened by the bee scene, let alone watch a Vampire horror flick. I didn’t believe him.

As the years went by, though, the evidence only grew stronger. My mom tried to shield me from it, but my newborn sister’s massive lateral incisors gave it away. My dad began to train my sister to hiss on command. I started to notice that my dad only associated himself with Vampire friends as well. They would show me their teeth and hiss if I didn’t believe them. It was a scary and confusing time, but I got through it. I now know what I am.

O.K. We’ve passed the point where you believe me. We were probably past that point on the fourth word. But it’s true. It’s what I am. Vampires are everywhere. The movies poorly portray us, and so the common folk imagine us to be scary, bloodthirsty, vicious creatures. That is just not true. There are some who spoil it for everyone, but that happens in every culture.

I’m not going to lie. Some of the stereotypes have a hint of truth in them. For example, I do like blood. But this doesn’t mean that I am going to go around biting people left and right. That’d be stupid in this day and age, anyway, what with the AIDS epidemic. Not knowing who has what, I could end up with AIDS – for eternity. I am, after all, immortal.

We as a Vampire people have attempted to get blood by consensual means. But the truth is, no one wants to address the dietary concerns of a Vampire. All around the world the kosher and vegetarian diets are accommodated, but never that of the Vampire’s.

My life has followed a similar path. No one has understood or accommodated me. People made fun of my large overbite, my pale skin, and allergies to extreme light and garlic. As I grew up, things only got worse. I was very self-conscious in high school: not being able to see your reflection in the mirror does not help when you want to look good for asking a girl out on date. It was miserable. And while most boys have to worry about fighting their sexual urges during class (hoping that they don’t get called to the blackboard at the “wrong” time), I had to worry about fighting my urges to bite people. I know I said that we were humane, but I still had urges. I just don’t want to harm anyone. I’m not like that.

All of this has led me to where I am now: Penn. It’s just as hard out here as it was when I was a little kid. The classes are tough, and being away from home is difficult, but what really gets me is that I am basically misrepresented everyday. On the surface I am a white, Jewish, male from New York—stereotypical—but in reality I’m a Vampire. No one thinks of me as that; know one knows me as that. It’s hard to live this double life and have no one understand it.

My first few days were especially tough. My roommate is Italian and loves garlic—I mean loves it. He puts it on everything. So my first week I looked like a constant allergic reaction; not pretty. Night three at Penn, I turned into a bat in the middle of the night (purely by accident—stuff happens), scaring the hell out of my roommate and subsequently the whole hall. I then had to conjure up an excuse as to where I was during the whole uproar. At the Philadelphia Art Museum, during NSO, I had an embarrassing moment as I started drooling in front of painting with blood all over it—that was hard to explain as well. At least the frat parties were good—the nightlife is just kind of my thing.

It’s just that in a school as large as Penn you would think there would be other people like me. You see, Vampires have a sort of radar—we can tell who’s a Vampire and who’s not. There is no such thing as an “in the closet” Vampire to us. And, it just so happens that I am the only one at this school (but is Vampire listed as a minority on the Penn application? I think not). It’s hard enough finding your group of friends, let alone people who can relate to you. I have friends, but they don’t know the real me. Well, I guess now they do. I only hope that they believe.

Why am I telling you all this? What is the reason for me to let everyone know who I really am? Maybe I think it’s time for you to look around you and see people for what they really are—underneath the superficial relationships that we have already formed. I’m not what I seem and neither are many of the people that are on campus (in good, and unfortunately bad ways as well). As many of us are beginning to form new relationships we should look at who we are surrounding ourselves with.

I also ask that everyone is more accepting to Vampires. We are a sensitive people. It’s a weird request, but given the opportunity, I’ve got to ask it. I know you probably don’t believe a word I said, but maybe at least it got you thinking.

Happy Halloween everybody! Make my people proud and wear your Vampire colors! It will make me feel more at home. As for me… I’m going as Super Mario. Man I love that guy.

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