Spied on in school by my abuser
As a shy schoolgirl, Rachael Jeffryes, now 18, from Milton keynes, thought his kiss was magical. But things soon took a darker turn...
Listening to my mates chatting about boys,
I felt awkward.
At the age of 13, my classmates were getting boyfriends, giggling over first kisses and dates.
I want that, too, I thought. But I was so shy I could never see it happening to me.
So, back home, I downloaded a dating app on my phone, lied about my age to sign up.
And I didn’t tell Mum.
Well, I didn’t think anything would come of it. I just saw it as a bit of a laugh.
So I was surprised when I got a message from a lad called Darius Agar. You look really pretty. Flattered, I replied. Darius told me he was 16 and living with his mum in London.
With short, dark hair, and a wonky nose, he was cute.
But I was sensible. So when, after months of messaging,
he broached the subject of getting physical, I was honest.
I’m not ready to have sex yet, I said. I want to wait until I’m older. He knew I was still just 13. That’s OK, he reassured me. I’ll wait for you.
Finally, in February 2014, after a year of messaging, we met in person for the first time.
I’d told Mum the truth, that we’d met on an app and Darius was 16.
She agreed he could stay for the weekend on our sofa, and drove me to Milton Keynes station to collect him.
As Darius got into the car, I felt so shy that I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him, so we texted each other instead! Back at our bungalow, we had lunch, walked to the local shop and chatted.
Then on the way back, Darius stopped and kissed me passionately.
My first kiss! It was magical. You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face!
That night, Darius settled on the sofa.
‘Good night,’ I smiled, heading to my bedroom. But when I got up in the early hours to go to the loo, I saw the light coming from the living room.
I popped my head round and Darius beckoned me to come in.
I sat next to him on the sofa. Sitting in our PJS, he started kissing my neck.
‘What are you doing?’ I whispered, uncomfortable.
‘I thought this was what you wanted,’ he replied.
‘No, I don’t,’ I told him. ‘I thought you just wanted to talk.’
Mum was asleep down the hall.
Anyway, I’d told him I wasn’t ready to get physical.
But that didn’t matter to Darius.
He pulled down his pyjama bottoms, started roughly tugging down mine.
And my knickers, too.
I was only 5ft 3in tall, and he was strong.
‘Please stop,’ I begged quietly as he assaulted me.
Hours earlier, we’d shared that magical kiss.
Now the spell was broken. I
He made me tie an ipod Touch to my bed frame with Facetime on
was paralysed with fear, too scared to scream and wake Mum.
Afterwards, Darius pulled my knickers back on, then handed me my pyjama bottoms.
‘Go to your bedroom,’ he said coldly. ‘I’m done with you.’
Shocked, I did what
I was told.
But curled up under my duvet, I couldn’t sleep.
What had just happened? Was this what boys did to their girlfriends? Was I just being childish?
I could barely look at Darius the next morning, but he flashed me a big smile. ‘Morning,’ he said.
He was pleasant, polite to Mum.
He behaved like everything was fine.
But I didn’t feel fine. ‘Darius, I didn’t enjoy it last night,’ I told him later, blushing. ‘Can we talk about it?’
His eyes narrowed.
‘No,’ he said, changing the subject.
For the rest of the weekend, Darius was funny and charming.
When me and Mum dropped him back at the train station on Sunday night,
I felt so confused.
My first proper boyfriend, was this how it was meant to be?
After that, we kept in touch on the phone and online.
‘I’m sorry if you didn’t like it,’ Darius said. ‘I just wanted to prove how much I love you.’
I must be overreacting, I thought.
And the more Darius and I communicated, the more he had a hold over me.
He made me have my phone on constantly at school, with one earpiece in my ear all the time so he could make sure I wasn’t talking to boys.
He’d phone me, so I had no excuse not to speak to him.
I was always in trouble with the teachers. But I told myself it was a sign of his love.
Just as I told myself it was love when he forced himself on me on the sofa the next time he stayed at Mum’s.
I thought I just needed to grow up, get used to it.
By the middle of 2014, Darius was coming to stay every couple of weeks.
Even when he was at home, I couldn’t get a moment to myself.
He made me tie an ipod Touch to my bed frame with Facetime on.
‘I want to watch you sleeping,’ he said. ‘So I know you’re not with anyone else.’
In time, I became isolated from friends, withdrew from my family.
Tired and unhappy, my grades dropped at school, and I was punished for being on the phone all the time.
‘But I have to,’
I’d say.
Darius would be angry with me otherwise. And he scared me when he was angry...
I was so scared, I began self-harming.
Darius knew about it, but he didn’t try to stop me.
Finally, in spring 2015,
I was self-harming on Facetime to Darius, and something inside me snapped.
I hated who I’d become so much.
‘I can’t do this any more,’ I sobbed.
Then I hung up and called the police.
‘I’d like to report a sexual assault,’ I told them.
When I told Mum what had been happening, she felt so guilty that she hadn’t realised.
‘He had everyone fooled,’ I said.
The police came and I sat in my school uniform as they took a statement.
Darius was arrested – and, in July 2015, he appeared at Aylesbury Crown Court, where he pleaded guilty to a charge of sexual activity with a female child under 16.
The court heard that Darius Agar had actually been 19 when we’d first met but had been posing as a 16-year-old. That meant he was 21 now. I’d had no idea!
Later, he was sentenced to 40 months, placed on the sex offenders register indefinitely, made the subject of a Sexual Harm Prevention Order for five years and ordered not to contact me or to have unsupervised contact with anyone under 16.
He was also ordered to pay a victim surcharge of £120.
I stood in the gallery and watched Darius burst into tears as he was sentenced.
I fell to the floor and cried too. He’d been my first love and I felt bad for sending him to prison.
I was still under his spell. Yet, when Darius appealed his sentence and had it reduced to 32 months,
I was disappointed.
Slowly it sank in that I was a victim. I was a schoolgirl.
Yet he’d lied to me, groomed me, even abused me under my mum’s nose.
He deserved to be locked up. I had counselling and began to live again.
I studied hard and managed to get top grades in my GCSES.
Now I’m 18 and working as an accounts assistant.
I’ve just moved in with my partner Kyle.
He’s nothing like Darius. They say you never forget your first love.
And I’ll never forget mine. Darius taught me a painful lesson. Because of him, no man will ever fool me again.