Hi all,
For over 18 months now I've been following the posts on here, particularly the threads of those who have been falsely accused of rape. I stumbled upon this forum, like many others, in my time of despair - a time when I was falsely accused of rape.
So, why am I here now? Well, I've decided to tell my story to offer hope and also to begin to offer support as and when it is needed by anyone who should find themselves in these dreadful circumstances.
Firstly, however, I would like to offer a big thank you to the regular supporters of those who turn to this forum; whilst I never had the courage to post during my ordeal, I still drew a huge amount reading the advice; the wise words, the words of comfort and the support you offer to others - you truly are fantastic - to name a few, Right Fighter, RFLH, Saffron and many others whose names elude me at the moment - you deserve medals, hugs, and a knighthood (or the female equivalent for the women amongst you!).
So, about me...
Nearly two years back I met a lad (yes, I'm gay!) online. At first everything seemed normal, we spoke regularly be email, then by phone and then after two months we decided to embark upon our first date. Having never met a person online previously I thought it sensible to take things slowly, to ensure that I that I hadn't encountered someone who was after only one thing (never have been and never will be a one-night-stand person - it just isn't me!) and to ensure it was someone that a genuinely wanted to meet. So after two months I thought he seemed like a nice lad. He was younger then me by eight years but after many conversations I felt satisfied that he was mature and I'd made sure he was happy with the age difference too. We embarked on our first date - went swimmingly and we agreed to see one another again.
Second date went just as well. After this date I received a late night phone call from him absolutely hysterically crying on the phone - he discovered his dad had cancer - poor soul I thought, how dreadful. I (as you would) offered support and a listening ear. Much was discussed during these phone calls but the crux of this story involved physical, sexual and mental abuse from a father who hadn't been around since he was a young child. Of course my heart went out to him - that's just the way I am (and I like to think most people). So, to cut a very long story short, things he explained became increasingly serious to the point that I was regularly taking late night calls of hysteria with threats of suicide. I treated each call with patience, talking him round offering words of encouragement, reasons to live, but I often wondered if it was simply a cry for help or whether he had the courage of his convictions. Nonetheless, I couldn't call his bluff just in case he was serious which would mean I'd have to live with that on my conscience thinking could I have done more. Our relationship didn't really progress beyond a bit of late night fun in the car (if you know what I mean) until the night in question. Much of what I have mentioned only touches the surface of what he discussed but to go into now and to type it all out would take, well, a very, very long time!
So the night in question arrives. I met him and we went to a friends house (I was house sitting). We spoke about various things; he helped me fix my bike and we drank tea. One thing led to another and we began to play fight. Things went further and we ended up upstairs. We had sex and at the risk of sounding crude (but this is a critical detail), HE had sex with ME (again, if you know what I mean). Afterwards we went back downstairs and it was getting late. We chatted further and he decided that he needed to go as he an early start the following morning. I saw him to the door; we kissed and he asked if this meant we were more serious. I replied that I liked him and still wanted to see him but that until he sorted his issues I didn't want to get too serious. At this point he accused me of using him for sex and left in a mess. I didn't think a lot of it; thinking he would calm down in time and I genuinely did want to see him again.
That night I stayed at home after locking my friends home. At around 4am I received a call from the police asking my whereabouts as a complaint had been made against me. This totally confused me. They mentioned my friends address and could I make my way there immediately and they would have an officer there to speak with me. I never thought for a moment what was about to happen would happen. I dressed and left for my friends. Two police cars were parked outside. The lights to my friends house were on. Strange I thought, I could have sworn I turned them all off. As I approached the house a WPC stopped me and asked my name and she asked me wait for a moment; radio'd other offices and almost immediately, three male officers surrounded me and I was subsequently arrested on suspicion of rape. I was astonished to say the least. I didn't understand. I was cuffed and read my rights and bundled into the back of police car. I was informed on the way to the station that the police had forced entry to the house looking for me. The driver of the police car said that I behaved like I was expecting them! I looked at him and said, "Well, yes, I was. You called me". He looked confused.
I suppose its worth mentioning at this point that I had put two-and-two together - he had reported that I had raped him! But how could I have raped him? He had sex with me.
I was taken to my local police station, offered a solicitor (I accepted) and placed into a police cell. What raced through my mind that night and the following day I could't begin to detail but I was largely in shock. I was stripped of my clothes an given police issues garments as replacement. An officer asked if I agreed to intimate samples be taken, of course I agreed immediately - after all, I have nothing to hide - I've done nothing wrong. The duty solicitor rang and I was taken from my cell to speak to her via telephone. This was at the custody desk. Of course I didn't want to go into detail in such public surroundings. After a few rather muted responses to questions she asked she figured out this was possibly an issue of consent - I wasn't denying sex had taken place - clearly just the version of events that had been reported. She informed me that I was being held until the statement was taken from the complainant.
The intimate samples were taken at around 5pm the following day (after which I was the allowed to pee unsupervised!!) The doctor who arrived was under the impression that this was a male/female allegation, in hindsight I should have corrected her but, well, I didn't. My duty solicitor arrived around 5:30pm and I had my first contact with someone to whom I could explain what happened that night. Of course I had no idea the version of events that he had reported - I could only tell the truth I thought. He explained the charge and the possible sentence should I be found guilty in at court. This was shocking - how could this happen, I'd only ever shown him patience; given advice; listened and supported him. I told him the truth about what happened and he instructed me to be open and honest with the police but that he would interject should I need him to. He also explained that he would ask for disclosure before the interview - the detectives just said that the had some things they wished to 'put to me'.
The interview began with an open question from them. Tell us what happened last night. So they opened they flood gates, I told them every minor detail of our relationship from day one right up until I was arrested - even to the point of which bin I placed the condom in after sex. The sat and listened and said nothing other than if they checked some of the details (i.e. cinema receipts, credit card records) would they definitely prove I was telling the truth - of course I insisted they would - of course they would, I was telling the truth. The interviewed was terminated after around 90 minutes - they asked no further questions. incidentally, the things they put to me was confirmation of the things they ceased (computer, phone, clothes etc) belonged to me. After the tapes were turned off, one detective asked me why he might of done this. I had no idea at that time why. Interestingly, they asked me his full name, where he lived and what he done for a living. In hindsight, were these strange questions to ask - I'm still not sure. After the detectives left to organise bail, my solicitor said this was a storage interview and he suspected that they didn't have a statement from him as they asked no questions he spoke with them later when we left the room and that was true - he had made no statement to the police. He also told me I had done well given the stress I was under. I was subsequently bailed with no conditions at all for two months.
These first two months were perhaps the worst of my life. Initially I was off work and for at least seven days all I don't was sit in chair, stare into space and smoke copious amounts of cigarettes. I didn't eat, drank little and slept only when I was physically exhausted. My head done thousands of 'thought miles' thinking of every possible scenario that he could have given them - none of it made sense. How could he say I raped him? Why would he say it? Wo do the police believe? Is this a search for the truth or are they to to 'get me'? What will happen if I'm charged? Will it be in the local papers? Will I go to prison? How long would I get? Would it be worth living through? Would I come out the other side? Could I hold my head high regardless as I know I'm innocent? What would prison be like? Would I be beat up? What will this do to my family? What will my friends think? Will people believe me?
Seven days later I received a call from the police asking if they could come to see me as they had forgotten to take a DNA sample during my arrest. Initially I was hesitant as I wanted to speak to my solicitor first but they persuaded me that it was in my interests as they just wanted to prove my story. The detective arrived with the swabs. We got chatting and I said that I felt as though my life had been raped. At this point he looked down to the floor and said, "Well, everyone at the station believes you". I didn't respond to this, it didn't mean a lot - I just wanted it to be over. He also told me that they wouldn't be checking my computer and when I asked why he just said it would take ages. He said that they would be checking my phone however. I was mixed about the computer - pleased because I'd found out on here that it can take a long time, but not pleased because I knew there would be chat logs on it that would prove what I'd said to be true (at least about the history of the relationship). He also told me that he had now given a statement after going missing for a few days!
Two months passed and so did Christmas - it was such a sad time - I was so unbelievably depressed - I remember looking around on Christmas day at my family thinking this could be the last one I have with you all for a long time - I'd miss so much, I'd miss them so much - tears welled in my eyes but I managed to hold it back and tried as best I could to make the most of it.
First bail date - re-bailed. I was gutted. The tension as the day arrived was palpable amongst my family only to be told, come back in six weeks, we're still investigating. In the mean time, he had the nerve to email me asking how I was, as if nothing had happened. I felt sick to the bottom of my stomach when I seen his name in my inbox as an unread email. I immediately printed this off and dropped it in to one of the detectives.
Second bailed date - re-bailed gain for two weeks - the case was now with the CPS and they were making a decision.
In the meantime I had spoken with FASO and they had given me the name of a specialist solicitor and I changed so that they would represent me should the worst case happen. The morning arrived of the my third bail date. I revved a phone call from my new solicitor. "I thought I'd ring you early as I thought you'd want to know that the police will be taking no further action", those sweet, sweet words I so longed to hear. Mam cried, I cried, nana cried and my aunt cried at the news. The worst time of my life thus far had come to an end and I dare say it was the worst time for them too.
The euphoria lasted for a few days, as if I'd finally woken from four month long nightmare. Then the questions. What did he actually say? How much did he demonise me? Why did he do this? Was it attention seeking? Did he feel spurned? Why me? etc etc etc
When I collected my belongings from the detective all she she would say is that she was sorry I had to go through what I had and that he had been uncooperative from the outset; refusing to given pieces of evidence they had requested.
It took a long time to get over the ordeal and even today, 18 months later, I still find myself thinking about it at some point every day. Strangely I wonder what he's doing; if he realises the pain he caused not just me but my whole entire family and probably himself. I also know, and accept, that these are questions to which I will never know the answer and therefore I try not to dwell. So I shall never know what he said.
So, where am I now? Well, I swore I wouldn't trust anyone again and I couldn't have been more wrong. I now have a lovely partner who is the polar opposite. He's happy, funny, care free and I'm so lucky to have met him. Strangely I haven't told of my ordeal but I will in time.
So, I haven't written this as a thing of do's and don'ts if you're accused, but merely as an exposition of my story. One thing I have learned from here is that everyones experience is different depending on circumstance but listening to the wise people on this forum is a big, big, huge help!
Well, thats me. I will try my best to be a good poster and offer any advice (albeit probably not as wise as some of the people on here) where I can.
Again, thank you all so very much.
Tarzan.
P.S. Sorry for the Tolstoy-like post but writing this even now has been kind of therapeutic and I just couldn't stop - promise future post shall have more brevity!
For over 18 months now I've been following the posts on here, particularly the threads of those who have been falsely accused of rape. I stumbled upon this forum, like many others, in my time of despair - a time when I was falsely accused of rape.
So, why am I here now? Well, I've decided to tell my story to offer hope and also to begin to offer support as and when it is needed by anyone who should find themselves in these dreadful circumstances.
Firstly, however, I would like to offer a big thank you to the regular supporters of those who turn to this forum; whilst I never had the courage to post during my ordeal, I still drew a huge amount reading the advice; the wise words, the words of comfort and the support you offer to others - you truly are fantastic - to name a few, Right Fighter, RFLH, Saffron and many others whose names elude me at the moment - you deserve medals, hugs, and a knighthood (or the female equivalent for the women amongst you!).
So, about me...
Nearly two years back I met a lad (yes, I'm gay!) online. At first everything seemed normal, we spoke regularly be email, then by phone and then after two months we decided to embark upon our first date. Having never met a person online previously I thought it sensible to take things slowly, to ensure that I that I hadn't encountered someone who was after only one thing (never have been and never will be a one-night-stand person - it just isn't me!) and to ensure it was someone that a genuinely wanted to meet. So after two months I thought he seemed like a nice lad. He was younger then me by eight years but after many conversations I felt satisfied that he was mature and I'd made sure he was happy with the age difference too. We embarked on our first date - went swimmingly and we agreed to see one another again.
Second date went just as well. After this date I received a late night phone call from him absolutely hysterically crying on the phone - he discovered his dad had cancer - poor soul I thought, how dreadful. I (as you would) offered support and a listening ear. Much was discussed during these phone calls but the crux of this story involved physical, sexual and mental abuse from a father who hadn't been around since he was a young child. Of course my heart went out to him - that's just the way I am (and I like to think most people). So, to cut a very long story short, things he explained became increasingly serious to the point that I was regularly taking late night calls of hysteria with threats of suicide. I treated each call with patience, talking him round offering words of encouragement, reasons to live, but I often wondered if it was simply a cry for help or whether he had the courage of his convictions. Nonetheless, I couldn't call his bluff just in case he was serious which would mean I'd have to live with that on my conscience thinking could I have done more. Our relationship didn't really progress beyond a bit of late night fun in the car (if you know what I mean) until the night in question. Much of what I have mentioned only touches the surface of what he discussed but to go into now and to type it all out would take, well, a very, very long time!
So the night in question arrives. I met him and we went to a friends house (I was house sitting). We spoke about various things; he helped me fix my bike and we drank tea. One thing led to another and we began to play fight. Things went further and we ended up upstairs. We had sex and at the risk of sounding crude (but this is a critical detail), HE had sex with ME (again, if you know what I mean). Afterwards we went back downstairs and it was getting late. We chatted further and he decided that he needed to go as he an early start the following morning. I saw him to the door; we kissed and he asked if this meant we were more serious. I replied that I liked him and still wanted to see him but that until he sorted his issues I didn't want to get too serious. At this point he accused me of using him for sex and left in a mess. I didn't think a lot of it; thinking he would calm down in time and I genuinely did want to see him again.
That night I stayed at home after locking my friends home. At around 4am I received a call from the police asking my whereabouts as a complaint had been made against me. This totally confused me. They mentioned my friends address and could I make my way there immediately and they would have an officer there to speak with me. I never thought for a moment what was about to happen would happen. I dressed and left for my friends. Two police cars were parked outside. The lights to my friends house were on. Strange I thought, I could have sworn I turned them all off. As I approached the house a WPC stopped me and asked my name and she asked me wait for a moment; radio'd other offices and almost immediately, three male officers surrounded me and I was subsequently arrested on suspicion of rape. I was astonished to say the least. I didn't understand. I was cuffed and read my rights and bundled into the back of police car. I was informed on the way to the station that the police had forced entry to the house looking for me. The driver of the police car said that I behaved like I was expecting them! I looked at him and said, "Well, yes, I was. You called me". He looked confused.
I suppose its worth mentioning at this point that I had put two-and-two together - he had reported that I had raped him! But how could I have raped him? He had sex with me.
I was taken to my local police station, offered a solicitor (I accepted) and placed into a police cell. What raced through my mind that night and the following day I could't begin to detail but I was largely in shock. I was stripped of my clothes an given police issues garments as replacement. An officer asked if I agreed to intimate samples be taken, of course I agreed immediately - after all, I have nothing to hide - I've done nothing wrong. The duty solicitor rang and I was taken from my cell to speak to her via telephone. This was at the custody desk. Of course I didn't want to go into detail in such public surroundings. After a few rather muted responses to questions she asked she figured out this was possibly an issue of consent - I wasn't denying sex had taken place - clearly just the version of events that had been reported. She informed me that I was being held until the statement was taken from the complainant.
The intimate samples were taken at around 5pm the following day (after which I was the allowed to pee unsupervised!!) The doctor who arrived was under the impression that this was a male/female allegation, in hindsight I should have corrected her but, well, I didn't. My duty solicitor arrived around 5:30pm and I had my first contact with someone to whom I could explain what happened that night. Of course I had no idea the version of events that he had reported - I could only tell the truth I thought. He explained the charge and the possible sentence should I be found guilty in at court. This was shocking - how could this happen, I'd only ever shown him patience; given advice; listened and supported him. I told him the truth about what happened and he instructed me to be open and honest with the police but that he would interject should I need him to. He also explained that he would ask for disclosure before the interview - the detectives just said that the had some things they wished to 'put to me'.
The interview began with an open question from them. Tell us what happened last night. So they opened they flood gates, I told them every minor detail of our relationship from day one right up until I was arrested - even to the point of which bin I placed the condom in after sex. The sat and listened and said nothing other than if they checked some of the details (i.e. cinema receipts, credit card records) would they definitely prove I was telling the truth - of course I insisted they would - of course they would, I was telling the truth. The interviewed was terminated after around 90 minutes - they asked no further questions. incidentally, the things they put to me was confirmation of the things they ceased (computer, phone, clothes etc) belonged to me. After the tapes were turned off, one detective asked me why he might of done this. I had no idea at that time why. Interestingly, they asked me his full name, where he lived and what he done for a living. In hindsight, were these strange questions to ask - I'm still not sure. After the detectives left to organise bail, my solicitor said this was a storage interview and he suspected that they didn't have a statement from him as they asked no questions he spoke with them later when we left the room and that was true - he had made no statement to the police. He also told me I had done well given the stress I was under. I was subsequently bailed with no conditions at all for two months.
These first two months were perhaps the worst of my life. Initially I was off work and for at least seven days all I don't was sit in chair, stare into space and smoke copious amounts of cigarettes. I didn't eat, drank little and slept only when I was physically exhausted. My head done thousands of 'thought miles' thinking of every possible scenario that he could have given them - none of it made sense. How could he say I raped him? Why would he say it? Wo do the police believe? Is this a search for the truth or are they to to 'get me'? What will happen if I'm charged? Will it be in the local papers? Will I go to prison? How long would I get? Would it be worth living through? Would I come out the other side? Could I hold my head high regardless as I know I'm innocent? What would prison be like? Would I be beat up? What will this do to my family? What will my friends think? Will people believe me?
Seven days later I received a call from the police asking if they could come to see me as they had forgotten to take a DNA sample during my arrest. Initially I was hesitant as I wanted to speak to my solicitor first but they persuaded me that it was in my interests as they just wanted to prove my story. The detective arrived with the swabs. We got chatting and I said that I felt as though my life had been raped. At this point he looked down to the floor and said, "Well, everyone at the station believes you". I didn't respond to this, it didn't mean a lot - I just wanted it to be over. He also told me that they wouldn't be checking my computer and when I asked why he just said it would take ages. He said that they would be checking my phone however. I was mixed about the computer - pleased because I'd found out on here that it can take a long time, but not pleased because I knew there would be chat logs on it that would prove what I'd said to be true (at least about the history of the relationship). He also told me that he had now given a statement after going missing for a few days!
Two months passed and so did Christmas - it was such a sad time - I was so unbelievably depressed - I remember looking around on Christmas day at my family thinking this could be the last one I have with you all for a long time - I'd miss so much, I'd miss them so much - tears welled in my eyes but I managed to hold it back and tried as best I could to make the most of it.
First bail date - re-bailed. I was gutted. The tension as the day arrived was palpable amongst my family only to be told, come back in six weeks, we're still investigating. In the mean time, he had the nerve to email me asking how I was, as if nothing had happened. I felt sick to the bottom of my stomach when I seen his name in my inbox as an unread email. I immediately printed this off and dropped it in to one of the detectives.
Second bailed date - re-bailed gain for two weeks - the case was now with the CPS and they were making a decision.
In the meantime I had spoken with FASO and they had given me the name of a specialist solicitor and I changed so that they would represent me should the worst case happen. The morning arrived of the my third bail date. I revved a phone call from my new solicitor. "I thought I'd ring you early as I thought you'd want to know that the police will be taking no further action", those sweet, sweet words I so longed to hear. Mam cried, I cried, nana cried and my aunt cried at the news. The worst time of my life thus far had come to an end and I dare say it was the worst time for them too.
The euphoria lasted for a few days, as if I'd finally woken from four month long nightmare. Then the questions. What did he actually say? How much did he demonise me? Why did he do this? Was it attention seeking? Did he feel spurned? Why me? etc etc etc
When I collected my belongings from the detective all she she would say is that she was sorry I had to go through what I had and that he had been uncooperative from the outset; refusing to given pieces of evidence they had requested.
It took a long time to get over the ordeal and even today, 18 months later, I still find myself thinking about it at some point every day. Strangely I wonder what he's doing; if he realises the pain he caused not just me but my whole entire family and probably himself. I also know, and accept, that these are questions to which I will never know the answer and therefore I try not to dwell. So I shall never know what he said.
So, where am I now? Well, I swore I wouldn't trust anyone again and I couldn't have been more wrong. I now have a lovely partner who is the polar opposite. He's happy, funny, care free and I'm so lucky to have met him. Strangely I haven't told of my ordeal but I will in time.
So, I haven't written this as a thing of do's and don'ts if you're accused, but merely as an exposition of my story. One thing I have learned from here is that everyones experience is different depending on circumstance but listening to the wise people on this forum is a big, big, huge help!
Well, thats me. I will try my best to be a good poster and offer any advice (albeit probably not as wise as some of the people on here) where I can.
Again, thank you all so very much.
Tarzan.
P.S. Sorry for the Tolstoy-like post but writing this even now has been kind of therapeutic and I just couldn't stop - promise future post shall have more brevity!
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