Opening the door, I glanced into the room and saw a man sitting at a table. As I stepped forward, the room was silent, yet I could hear the thump of my heart.
Nine years had passed since the man in front of me had attacked me. And now I was about to look him in the eye for the first time since the court case. I was finally ready to ask the questions that had haunted me for almost a decade.
In July 2005, at around 4am, I had boarded the night bus in Dublin after a long shift at the bar where I worked. I was 21 and had recently finished my degree in Commerce. I was saving every penny I could to go I travelling with friends.
After a few stops, a man got on the bus. And despite almost every other seat being empty, he chose to sit next to me. It made me feel uncomfortable but I tried not to think too much into it. But as I got off the bus, so did he. There was nobody around as the bus pulled away into the darkness, but it was just a 100-metre walk to my parents’ home and I knew I’d be there in minutes.
I turned into the road leading to my parents’ house. But so did the man, the street lights illuminating his figure. But then that figure started to move more quickly. He was running towards me.
Should I run? Should I fight? But it was too late.
His arm grabbed me around the neck, propelled me into a garden and shoved me to the ground. He was stocky and strong, and as much as my brain told me to fight, I froze.
He tore off my clothes so I was naked, and he began to bite my legs, arms, everywhere. Then, he pushed his fingers inside me.
I gripped the grass in agony, wanting to scream out, but all the while warning myself not to antagonise him. ‘He’ll kill you,’ I thought.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 02, 2022-Ausgabe von WOMAN'S OWN.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der May 02, 2022-Ausgabe von WOMAN'S OWN.
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