I never knew what to do with this.

When I was 15, I went to a party with my then-boyfriend in my home town on Vancouver Island. It was at my girlfriend’s house, she was one of my BFFs. It was going to be a ‘cool’ party, music good ‘n loud, alcohol, no adults, no rules. As sometimes happens, my friend and another class-mate, who I will call Debbie, had a few drinks while they were getting things ready. Actually, I think Debbie had consumed the better part of a bottle of vodka before the guests had arrived.

The next thing I remember is sitting on the sofa with my then-boyfriend, in a living room filled with people sitting around on the floor, talking, entertaining themselves. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I was told by then-boyfriend to not go into the bedroom.

So what happened was that Debbie had fallen asleep before the party started. She had found a quiet room, closed the door, and drifted out of consciousness. A number of boys, all part of our school and ‘party’ community, decided to take advantage of Debbie while she slept. Or, we could skip the euphemisms and say that she was ‘gang raped’. Three boys were apparently involved, doing things to her in her state of unconsciousness. One of their brothers was guarding the door so that no one would interrupt them. My then-boyfriend knew what was going on and did not try to put a stop to it. I was shocked and can’t remember what course of action I chose. I think by the time I really knew what was going on, Brenda, a competent and no-nonsense young woman broke up the assault and called the cops.

I don’t remember ever being asked to make a statement. I do remember going to court, supposedly as a witness for the victim. Debbie’s family was there; her parents were so grateful that we surrounded Debbie and tried to bring out the truth into that legal setting, where the professionals did not seem to give a damn about the young woman in question. I remember an agressive man lawyer named somebody Scott, or Scott somebody, cross-examining me, trying to prove I was lying about what I saw, which I believe was guys coming out of the bedroom while their brother guarded the door. And, I heard people talking about this rape, but apparently that is just ‘hear say’. When Mr. Pitbull lawyer was done, all three accused boys got off, no charges, nothing. Apparently, Debbie had stirred and had said something to one of the boys, which the lawyer construed as consent. I remember one of the boy’s mother sitting in the court room. I wondered what she was thinking.

I remember feeling really disgusted that my then-boyfriend presented himself to Debbie’s parents as someone who was there to help her. Actually, I found him to be quite complicit with the perpetrators. Whatever he said, or whatever he saw, was apparently not enough to convict these boys. However, he seemed to maintain friendships with them. I also trust that Debbie’s life was ruined. We drifted apart after that. I think of her often. And, when I do, I tend to think about these guys, about how they got a ‘get out of jail free card’ to keep living their lives and how she would never be the same again. I believe they are all still in this small town; I believe she left.

Today, things might have been different. Not because the legal system is better. The legal world is still filled with Scotts and the lawyers who defend the Weinsteins, the Epsteins, the Ghomeshis, the abusive politicians and with the women who are called lying bitches because they talk out loud about sexualized assault and male violence. This event could have unfolded differently today because we have iphones, we could have filmed it, we could have live-streamed it, it could have gone viral. Not that that helps victims in any way, but it might help to constrain those who would continue to use violence against women. My biggest fear today is that I have a daughter and I don’t want anyone to mistreat her. My biggest hope is that I have two beautiful sons who I believe would never hurt a woman the way those boys did that night. Oh, and for what it’s worth, thanks Brenda for calling the cops. At least you tried!