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Facing the demon

The blood splattered across his face haunted my nigthmares...


Published by: Amy Thompson
Published on: 28th June 2010

Just a few more steps and I’d be at my front door. My heels clicked against the pavement, echoing in the dark courtyard outside my flat.
Then, suddenly, I was being dragged back, someone gripping my arm tightly. Turning, I saw the knife in his hand, his dark eyes boring into mine as he slammed a fist into my face.
White hot pain exploded. My blood spattered across his face and shirt as he punched me again and again. ‘Shut up,’ he hissed, as I struggled against him. ‘Or I’m gonna stab you.’
Lifting the knife over his head, he brought it down swiftly, aiming for my shoulder. He missed – but sliced my face instead, then cut through the strap on my bag.
As quickly as he’d appeared, my attacker was gone… I woke up with a jolt. Sitting up in bed, a cold sweat broke across my body as I panted, trying to steady my breath.
‘Another nightmare?’ my boyfriend Gareth asked, groggily.
I nodded, gripping the duvet and checking the clock on my bedside table – 1am. This wasn’t the first time I’d woken like this. I’d had the same nightmare over and over ever since the real attack had happened a few weeks earlier.
‘I see him everywhere,’ I told Gareth, fighting back tears.
‘It’s okay,’ he soothed, cuddling me. ‘They got him, babe… he’ll be locked up where he belongs.’
It was true. Aaron Burns, 18, had been arrested the day after he’d mugged me as I walked home from my job at a Spanish tapas restaurant.
Once I saw him locked up, everything could go back to normal. People always talked about that moment, seeing justice done and how it gave them closure.
Maybe then the nightmares would stop. I could go back to how life had been before, happy and outgoing instead of the quivering wreck I’d become.
But until that day, I couldn’t relax. I’d just gone back to work, but only doing odd jobs in the office away from all the customers.
Gareth, 24, had even begun meeting me each night to walk me home. I knew he felt guilty for not being there the night it happened.
‘I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,’ he’d vowed, as police officers had taken my statement.
Only problem was, while I was trying to put it behind me, Gareth’s worrying where I was all the time was a reminder of what I’d been through.
Although my cuts and bruises were starting to fade, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following me.
Police had shown me CCTV footage of Burns following me home that night, stopping just feet away from me as I’d crossed at traffic lights, hands shoved in his pockets. I’d been totally oblivious to him.
Now, I was aware of everything, every footstep, every creak in the night… I was a nervous wreck.
In the end, I couldn’t deal with Gareth’s guilt on top of everything. After two happy years together, we broke up. ‘I need to get my life back on track,’ I said. ‘I’m no good for anyone right now.’
The quicker Burns was locked up, the better. Going to see him sentenced in January this year, though, I felt disappointed – just 40 months in prison for robbery and possessing a knife.
It wasn’t just me I’d wanted justice for either – police had told me he’d racked up 60 convictions for a string of crimes before he’d attacked me. And yet he’d been free to walk the streets.
Bile rose in my throat as I left the court with my sister Jade. ‘I’ll always feel like this, won’t I?’ I sobbed, crumpling into her arms.
The nightmares became less frequent after that, but everywhere I went I was always on edge. I’d see his face everywhere, looming over me covered in my blood.
Then, two months later, I got a call from the police asking me if I’d take part in a Restorative Justice programme. ‘We’d like you to visit Burns in prison, make him see how the attack has affected you,’ an officer explained.
They wanted me to see the man who’d attacked and robbed me at knifepoint? Fat chance!
But slowly, I came around to the idea. I’d have to live with the consequences of what he’d done. Why shouldn’t he have to do the same?
Jade came with me. Sitting in a visiting room, my hands shook as an officer led Burns in. He sat down… and fidgeted nervously.
Suddenly, I realised – he was scared! Blimey, how the tables had turned! The last time I’d seen him, I’d been too terrified to cry out. Now, I was the one in control.
‘Why?’ I asked, bluntly.
‘I needed money to pay rent to my girlfriend’s parents,’ he shrugged. ‘I had a tough childhood. I wouldn’t have hit you if you hadn’t struggled.’
Fury burned inside me. ‘So that’s all right then is it?’ I demanded. ‘You needed money so you thought you’d just take it, and who cares who you hurt?’
He looked up surprised.
‘You think I’m just some little rich girl who’s had everything handed to me on a plate?’ I asked. ‘I’ve worked hard to get what I have. Did you think to try that before you started mugging innocent people?’
Once I started, I couldn’t stop.
‘Did you know I couldn’t eat or sleep for weeks after what you did to me? That it ruined my relationship with my boyfriend? Or that I still have nightmares about your face covered in my blood?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he sobbed.’
Seeing him so pathetic, not the monster that had plagued my dreams, I sat back. To my shock, my fear dissolved into pity.
‘You can turn your life around,’ I told him. ‘Don’t live like this.’
He nodded, tearfully, as we left. Walking out, my shoulders sagged with relief. For the first time since the attack, I felt free.
I thought that confronting the yob who’d mugged me would be terrifying. Turned out, it was just what I needed to move on.
Zoe Harrison, 26, Lancaster, Lancashire