Why I've Forgiven My Rapists

Madeleine Black found a unique way to get back at the men who almost ruined her life...

- Sarah Holmes And Matthew Barbour

Do you know what it’s like to have a secret, something so harrowing that you know you should tell people, but you just can’t – because you're scared that if you do they’ll end up judging you?

For years, I tried to pretend what happened to me, hadn’t. If only I’d realised sooner that sometimes the greatest strength comes from owning up to your vulnerabilities.

I was just 13 when my best friend Kelly and I drank alcohol for the first time. Her mum was away for the weekend, and like most teenagers we were curious to try it. It was a Saturday night in April 1979. We went to the off-licence and bought a bottle of vodka. We couldn’t believe our luck when they served us. Then we took it to a café down the road, where we ran into a group of boys Kelly knew.

They were 17, and seemed friendly. Kelly gestured for them to join us, and mixing the vodka with orange juice under the table, we took our first sip.

Death threat

Although we hated the taste, we persevered. But after a couple of hours, Kelly and I could barely stand. So two of the boys offered to take us back home, to Kelly’s house.

By the time we got back to her flat, the whole world was passing in a blur. The boys guided Kelly and me to separate rooms. I remember collapsing on the floor and the boy started to pull my jeans down.