”I was raped at 13 by my date and his mate”
Despite suffering a horrific attack at the hands of two teenagers, charity founder Claudia Barber, 21, managed to turn her life around
Stepping off the bus with my mate Katie*, I was nervous. It was March 2012 and we were meeting a boy she fancied who lived in the next village. When we arrived, I discovered he’d also brought along a mate to hang out with me.
“Hi, I’m Brandon,” he said, sheepishly.
Clearly, this was a double date. I’d kissed a few boys before, but dating was totally new to me. Brandon, then 15, seemed nice, though. As we walked through a neighbouring housing estate, the conversation flowed naturally.
After feeling neglected for a long time, it felt amazing to have someone take an interest in me. My parents were going through a divorce and although I had a nice group of friends, I’d been mercilessly bullied at school. All I wanted was to be accepted.
Now, as I walked with
Brandon, we slowly became separated from Katie and her date.
“Those two have probably gone to have sex,” he said, winking. “We should have sex, too.”
He said it so casually I was taken aback. But we wandered into a secluded area and soon, one thing led to another. I was a virgin and Brandon reassured me that he was experienced.
We used a condom and after everything I’d been through, the sex made me feel special. I was only 13, but I felt wanted and desired. We texted each other
for several weeks afterwards. On 22 April, Brandon asked me to meet up again. I was living with my dad in Middlesbrough and that afternoon, I took a 20-minute bus journey to see Brandon in nearby Guisborough. He was waiting for me at the bus stop, with a scruffylooking mate.
“This is Callum,” he said.
I was confused. Why was Brandon letting one of his mates crash our date?
“We’re going to walk him home, then we can go somewhere,” Brandon said.
“OK,” I replied, shrugging. I wasn’t familiar with the area, and Brandon and Callum walked ahead of me, talking in low voices. We passed through some fields next to an abandoned railway track. There was a housing estate in the distance.
Suddenly, Brandon laid his coat on the ground. “Have sex with us or we’ll leave you here,” he said. I froze, horrified.
“No, I’m not doing that,” I said, shakily.
Gripped by fear, I turned around and began walking away from them. “Come back,” Brandon said, catching up with me. “We were just joking.”
Brandon gave me a reassuring smile and I relaxed again.
“They’re just being silly teenage boys,” I thought.
We spent hours in the wooded clearing, talking about school, films and music. As the hours passed, darkness set in. Then, Brandon’s expression changed.
“We’ll leave you here if you don’t have sex with us,” he said.
I hoped it was another bad joke, but as I looked at them both helplessly, I realised it wasn’t. I was completely isolated. If I screamed, no one would hear me.
Before I knew it, I was lying on the cold ground with Brandon on top of me. He pulled down my shorts and began to rape me.
“No, I don’t want this,” I said, tearfully, but he carried on.
“Make a noise like you’re enjoying it,” he hissed.
I begged him to stop as Callum, then 16, leered over us, masturbating. My body was completely numb. I was so desperate for it to be over, but Brandon and Callum took it in turns to rape me several times.
TREMBLED WITH FEAR
When they were done, they ran off into the darkness, leaving me covered in dirt. My legs trembled in fear as I put my clothes back on.
Sobbing, I stumbled through the fields in the same direction we’d come from. Eventually, I found the bus stop and made it back home.
My dad was in bed asleep and I ran a bath, trying to scrub away the dirt and shame. I couldn’t sleep and the next day, I made an appointment with the nurse at my GP practice to get the morning after pill. She asked why I was there. I told her the bare minimum, which was that
I’d had unprotected sex.
I tried to pretend the assault had never happened. I told my friends, but was too frightened to report Brandon and Callum to the police.
In 2014, I received a sickening message from Brandon on Facebook. “Any chance me and my mate can come and meet you and both of us f**k you all over, sweet cheeks?” it said.
I blocked him, but a few months later, I saw Callum on the bus. The sight of him caused me to have a panic attack.
Unable to cope, my life fell apart. I was having nightmares
and stopped going to college. I blamed myself and struggled with self-harm and suicidal thoughts. “Why didn’t you scream? Why didn’t you fight back?” I thought, punishing myself.
My dad knew there was something wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him. It was my dream to study medicine and I was predicted to get three A grades at A level. In 2015, I received a conditional offer from Newcastle University but the attack continued to haunt me.
DEPRESSED
I was so depressed I went to my GP and was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, a mood disorder that causes emotional instability.
In January 2016, I finally broke down and told my dad the truth. “Please, love. Will you call the police and report it?” he said, heartbroken.
But I was still too scared. Dad respected my wishes but with the strain I was under, I decided to abandon my uni plans. Instead, in June 2016, I got a job as a waitress so I could save up to go travelling.
On my first day there, I met
Kyle, 31, a chef. He was so fun to be around. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but within a week we were a couple. I confided in him about the attack and he was furious and devastated.
Kyle urged me to go to the police, but I was still trying to pretend it had never happened. I spent a couple of months travelling around Europe on my own. It was amazing and when I returned to Middlesbrough, I moved in with Kyle and got a job as a barmaid.
One night, a blond man shouted, “Can I get served? I’ve been waiting ages!”
It was Brandon. He didn’t seem to recognise me, but my heart started racing. I asked a colleague to serve him and I hid in a back room.
Crying and shaking, I was afraid I’d never escape the trauma of that night. I went home in tears and told Kyle what had happened.
“You have to go to the police,” he said. “Seeing you suffer is tearing me apart.”
So the next day, I reported Brandon and Callum to the police. I gave a statement in March 2017 and they were both arrested, but later released on bail.
As the case was a historic sex crime, the police spent 18 months collecting the evidence to charge them. They interviewed my friends and gathered data from my phone and social media accounts. I was constantly looking over my shoulder.
In July 2018, Brandon Bowmaker, 21, and Callum Dowson, 22, appeared at Teesside Crown Court. They denied rape, claiming the sex had been consensual. I gave evidence from behind a screen and was cross-examined by their barristers for two days. It was brutal. I tried my hardest not to cry, but when I got home I completely broke down.
As I had to work, the policeman assigned to my case called me to share the verdict. After a weeklong trial, they were both found guilty. I cried with relief. I knew how difficult it was to get a rape conviction. It meant everything to know the jury had believed me.
The following month, I returned to court with Kyle for the sentencing. Brandon and Callum were jailed for four years each – the judge described the case as one of the toughest of his career. I read out a statement in court, saying life was too short to hate them any more. “It’s now time you paid for what you’ve done,” I said.
Neither Brandon nor Callum showed any remorse and their relatives made cruel remarks about my figure outside court, but I refused to give either of those monsters a moment more of my time.
Now, Kyle and I are married. I’d like to have children and I’ve set up a charity to help other victims of rape and sexual abuse called Beyond Reasonable Doubt. I’m dedicating my life to this cause as I want to ensure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.
I now know that what happened wasn’t my fault. Brandon and Callum carried out a cruel, calculated attack.
I still have nightmares about what they did and struggle with my mental health – I take medication for BPD, depression and anxiety – but I’m trying to put this ordeal behind me.
I’m sharing my story to let others know they’re not alone. Please don’t suffer in silence. To find out more about Claudia’s charity visit facebook.com/brdcharity
‘“Make a noise like you’re enjoying it,” he hissed’