She’s out at the pub with her friends, having a good time, the drinks of flowing, they are laughing, she feels happy.

She’s got her hair done nice, her makeup all complete and a new dress on. The dress is blue, it has long sleeves and it’s a silk material. She wears her favourite sandals on her feet.

The sun hits when she goes for a cigarette, a nice Friday summers evening. The perfect night.

The barman gives her free entry vouchers to the club round the corner, her friends are raring to go. Let’s go.

The club is dead, but when it livens up, the ratio to male to female is obvious. They are literally the only females there.

Men flock over, friendly of course, can I buy you a drink? She’s drunk enough already but will one more hurt?

Her eyes open, a random guy is on top of her, she has no clothes on, she doesn’t know where she is. She freezes, she passes out again.

When she comes round he begs her to stay the night, no, she has a boyfriend. He doesn’t care. He pulls her arm to make her stay but she breaks free, leaving half her belongings there she runs. She runs out the house and gets an Uber all the way home. The long hour and a half car journey she sleeps.

She arrives back home at 6am and she gets in bed. She cries. She can’t move. How will she tell her partner? What will she do?

She rings 111 they beg her to tell her mum, she doesn’t want anyone to know. It stresses her out how pushy they are being. They say they are sending an ambulance. What for? Don’t you dare. She argues with 111, the place she rung for help, until they get her through to the police.

The police are kind, caring and let her go to them in her pjs. She has a long night there, she is exhausted. She gets examined, they take her lovely blue dress and her favourite sandals, never to be seen again.

Once home she meets her partner, she tells him, she cries, she fears he will think she’s lying.

Instead, he holds her tight, he lets her cry, he says we will get through this together. We will get through this together.