Violated: A Shocking and Harrowing Survival Story From the Notorious Rotherham Abuse Scandal. Sarah Wilson
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we can discuss this properly.’
Miss Jones was quite petite – she couldn’t have been more than about 5 foot, 3 inches – but I found myself wondering what would happen if I tried to knock her over. Robert was still outside the window, laughing with his mates.
‘You have two options, love,’ I said. ‘You either move and let me go and smash his face in, or I’ll put you on your arse and smash his face in anyway.’
Miss Jones just stood there, defiantly holding my gaze. I’d been in loads of fights with girls in my year, but I could see she thought I’d never have the guts to hit a teacher.
She was wrong.
Rage coursed through me as I swung a punch at her. Everything seemed to happen really slowly. I could see shock spreading across my teacher’s face, and at the last minute she ducked out of my way. My hand went straight through the window, hitting it with such force that glass shattered everywhere. It seemed to take forever before the blood started gushing from my hand and down my arm. It was really sore, obviously, but I was still so angry I couldn’t properly concentrate on the pain.
I’d hurt myself so badly that I had to have an operation and loads of stitches. I’ve still got the scars now. What was worse, though, was that I was permanently excluded from school. The headmaster told Mum I’d have to go to a special school for pupils with behavioural problems.
‘I love you, Sarah,’ Mum told me on the way home from hospital. ‘And I always will. But I really don’t like you at the moment. Why are you acting like this?’
As usual, I didn’t really listen. I’d heard it all before: how I’d always been so lovely and polite but now I was like a different person, how Mum had brought me up to be better than this and how ashamed she was of my behaviour. But my brain was addled by all the drugs and alcohol and everything those men were telling me. It was like I was turning into a little robot, slowly but surely losing all sense of control over my life.
A few weeks later, Nadine turned sixteen. She told me not to tell anyone she was two-timing Amir with a white lad called Ryan. I couldn’t understand why it was okay for her to sleep around with Amir’s mates but not with this other guy, but I didn’t ask any questions.
Nadine and Ryan saw each other a few times a week, but I still chilled with her loads. When she wasn’t there, I’d hang around with Hayley, Jade and Leah, or the taxis would pick me up on the street and take me to a house party.
Soon, we were hanging around at Hayley’s dad’s most of the time. If I’d thought it might have been a bit like Elaine’s, I was wrong. It was ten times worse.
The first time I walked through the back door the smell was so bad I actually gagged. The kitchen was foul, with rubbish piled high in every corner. It was so minging that I quickly realised some of it must have been there for months. I don’t think there were any dishes or cutlery, and even if there were, it would take you forever to wade through the mess and find them.
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