Berlin Syndrome

by Nika Grizila (Slovenia)

I didn't expect to find Germany

Despite my pathetic sense of orientation, I managed to get off at the correct metro station. I was in the north-west of the city, on Müllerstraße. Various shops, fast food restaurants, colourful signs and a huge cinema were surrounding me. The street was reasonably crowded and something about it made me think of London. I turned to the left and started walking down Seestraße, a more silent street with many kebab shops. Well, there seem to be about fifteen on every street in Berlin anyway. When I got to the tall building that was supposed to be Sara's house according to the number, it seemed oddly familiar. Why would that be? It was my first time in Berlin, and in Germany for that matter. The building was connected to other tall grey structures. I had no idea which flat Sara lived in, so I called her. It only took her a minute to come down, throw her arms around me and make me stop thinking about the unexplainable familiarity of the building. Soon she had to go to university, while I had the time to look around. I walked around the big old flat; her flatmates weren't home. I took in the tall ceiling, the old furniture, the double windows. Double windows and a trapped girl, desperately trying to break the glass. The thick main door with several locks, impossible to open. The long, meaningless corridors and the oversized rooms where she lies for hours, wondering how she'll meet her end. What will he do to her? And when? I packed my camera and notebook and left. Only now, when I was alone, I took a proper look at the corridor outside the flat. The corridor where he killed that man. The corridor through which she carelessly walked into a trap, back then when she didn't really know him yet. I ran down the stairs and found myself in some kind of a lobby, between the staircase and the door that led out to the street. Only then I noticed another door on the opposite side. I opened it and entered the courtyard. It was grey and quiet. There were a few shabby bikes and some old containers. He throws the body of that man into one of them, while she watches him through the window. She's screaming, but nobody can hear her. I escaped to the centre by underground and found a totally different story. The East Side Gallery, Checkpoint Charlie and the vegan doughnuts made a great impression on me. Berlin reminded me of London, Ljubljana and of something totally new and unfamiliar. I could hear conversations in all the possible languages, which made me feel like I somehow belonged. I was already planning on what we could see with Sara the next day. I forgot about the scary building she lived in. At least until I got back. As I was standing in front of the flat, looking for the keys, when the light suddenly went out. I ran my hands through the entire wall and still couldn't find the switch. My phone didn't have any battery, and once again I felt let down by technology when I needed it most. I tried to push the correct key into the lock on the heavy door, but it just wouldn't happen. Who knows for how many minutes I was standing there. Then someone opened the door from the inside. I screamed, jumped back and hit my elbow on the wall. I felt dizzy from pain and slid onto the cold floor. That's it, I thought to myself. Then someone finally turned on the light. "Hello. Are you Sara's friend? I'm so sorry, I just thought you couldn't get in," said a kind voice in a heavy German accent. He stretched out his arms and helped me stand up. My knees were shaking and I've never felt so stupid in my entire life. At least he didn't look anything like that psycho from the film. The moral of the story: do not watch Berlin Syndrome before visiting Berlin.