This week has been so fucked up.
I have a friend who lives in America, and she doesn’t have any friends where she lives. So when someone texted her being friendly and showed her attention, she was happy. In that moment she had finally found someone to love who she thought loved her back. I wish it went differently. I wish he had been who he said he was. I wish I’d done more to stop her going to meet him. She’s only 17 years old, and her life has already gone so wrong.
He’d convinced her to meet him at an abandoned building, because it would be more ‘private’. Well, he wasn’t who she thought he was. And he wasn’t alone.
This isn’t a made up story, this is her reality. She walked into that building to meet him feeling those first date nerves you feel. One of them hit her on the head, when she woke up she was tied up. They then raped her. All 3 of them. And it didn’t stop there. It didn’t stop when the police came, it didn’t stop when she got home. He continued to text her and black mail her into not telling the police again. Then a few days later they broke into her home. And they raped her again. And they hurt her. They hurt her really fucking bad. Physically and mentally.
I wasn’t even the one being hurt and I was scared. It felt like hours before I got myself together enough to talk to a friend who also knows her and lives in America. I told him everything I knew and all the information she’d told me.
She’s now in hospital and the 3 men have been arseted. She’s fucked up but she’s safe and in hospital.
It’s been giving me nightmares and I can’t get what happened out of my head. Yet it wasn’t me that they raped, it wasn’t me that was tied up. It wasn’t me they tortured. I don’t know what’s going to happen now, it still makes me feel sick to think about what has happened to her.