Four diamonds in the rough: Part 1

Each one of the four girls were very different. Different in the way they looked, the way they spoke and in the way they behaved. I couldn’t have imaged that they were from the same world as one another, as each one saw the world in completely dissimilar ways.

Each girl gave me their version of events of that dreadful night and the events which led up to it. Had I not known that it was the same night they were talking about, I would have not believed otherwise.

They had been referred to me for counselling as a result of their terrible ordeals. Each girl had suffered post-traumatic stress, though they would not agree, but were offered the service as a form of outlet. For obvious reasons I cannot release their actual names, instead, I have made up names for them which I feel go not only go with their characters, but also fits them as a description.

China Rhea Redson

The first girl came in to see me. I could tell from the moment she walked through the door, that she was a fiery character. Confident. She didn’t appear to really care about anything or anyone but herself; that was the gist I acquired from the first conversation we had. As she sat down and looked around my office, judging it by her own standards, I noticed this arrogant and ever-so bossy air about her.

“I don’t really understand why I’m here. I don’t feel as though what happened has affected me at all to be honest. And I know that sounds really bad, as he was my boyfriend and I did love him and all of that, but he wasn’t really the love of my life. I guess I am a little bit sad, but not enough to need counselling about it. I think this is all too much.” She said aggressively.

Everything about her was very much, ‘me, myself and I’. An attitude which seemed to soak every sentence she ever said in the sessions I had with her. Everything either started with her, became about her or ended with her.

“Okay, so you don’t really know why you’re here. Maybe then we can talk a bit about what happened and see if that helps?”

She wasn’t too keen on that idea. It was as if I was taking up way too much of her time and energy. It was clear that she had better things to be doing; shopping, working or both.

“Oh,” She began, already exhausted from the thought of having to discuss anything, “Do you not already know what happened?”

“I know parts, but I would like to hear about what happened from your viewpoint.”

“Oh, okay.”

I could tell I had gripped her into conversation by simply making ‘her’ the most important thing in the situation. In her eyes, I was highly interested in ‘her’ ​and in her description of the whole night never mind anything else, those were simply ‘minor’ details. I decided to call her: China Rhea Redson.

Phoebe Roberts

Then there was Phoebe. Phoebe Roberts, we’ll call her. She was in stark contrast to China, laidback, calm, composed. She was someone you could sit in a room with, just you and her, and feel comfortable sitting in complete silence. Surrounded by her peaceful nature and tranquil disposition, you could almost forget she was even there with you, if you took your mind off her for a moment. She was a pleasant girl but it was quite difficult to get her motivated to talk about what she was thinking or feeling.

There was a lot of digging to be done with this one. She didn’t give me much, with or without me asking her. But it wasn’t as though she wanted to hold back information from me deliberately; it was more as though she was worried about what I would say about what she had to say, or I could go as far to say, that she simply could not be bothered to talk about it.

Her version of events were at the opposite end of the spectrum to China’s, a whole different perspective completely. It was hard to believe they were at the same place at the same time with the same people.

Robyn McKenzie

I couldn't get a full picture from both China and Phoebe of what happened of that night, but I didn’t need to because there was Robyn. Robyn McKenzie. She gave me all that I needed and more in terms of vivid detail about the night in question. Her level of insight and perspective allowed me to see things in a light that I could have not imagined. She cleverly helped me to piece together the missing pieces of the puzzle that filled that night with her creative, intellectual, analytical and reflective mind. I could see from the way she told me certain details which happened on that night, that she had spent time thinking how each little detail leading up to it had caused a major effect on what had happened. However, I could also see the damage that this thinking had done to her emotional side. She, out of all of the girls, was the most depressed.

I wasn’t sure whether that was more to do with who she was in this whole saga, if that was just the cause of over-thinking or whether it was both. But I found it unpleasant to watch; especially as with each session it tended to get progressively worse. Thankfully, though, she ended up feeling much better having gotten it out of her system as I found out when our sessions came to a close.

Cyan Imogen Brown

Cyan was as colourful as her name. Last but by no means the less vibrant character I’ve ever met. Her presence literally lit up my office like sunshine pouring into a room - that was Cyan. She was chatty, spontaneous and appeared to be extremely fun. Although she was a conversationalist, and was way more of a storyteller than any of the other girls combined, her stories were terribly hard to follow. She may as well have never said anything in the first place; nothing literally really made that much sense. Her conversations were about as disorganised as her life. Not only that but she was highly forgetful. If something hadn’t interested her or wasn’t about her, she couldn’t remember it actually happening and so often left it out of conversation. But then I suppose that was because she very much lived in the present moment.

She wasn’t too much concerned about the events of that morning, let alone yesterday, and was far too busy enjoying the here and now to be concerned with what ‘had’ happened. The only real reason I was able to get so much out of her about what had happened was because not only did she love talking, but she loved the fact that she was getting attention for her story as exaggerated as it often was.

China Rhea Redson

She started from her beginning of things, which I later found out wasn’t actually the real beginning - only she didn't know that. When she spoke, it was as though each word had a disgusting taste in her mouth and the only way she could get rid of the word was by spitting each word out; especially when she spoke about him…

“It was just another one of those parties he had told me to come to.” She said hurriedly, as though that wasn’t an important factor in the story.

“Who is ‘he’?” I asked realising that talking to China was probably going to require more energy on my part; largely due to her talking as though whoever she’s speaking to, was supposed to know ‘who’ and ‘what’ she was talking about without her having to say so.

“Oh sorry,” She said apologetically, “My boyfriend.” She informed me before continuing with what she had been saying before I cut her off.

But I wasn’t interested in the end of the sentence. I was much more interested in how she felt in general about him requesting her presence at functions; it didn’t seem the least bit nice.

“Tell me a bit about your relationship with him?” I questioned her.

Watching as she sat, legs crossed in a short, bright, red dress which not only showed off her curves but left nothing for the imagination. She had entered my office as though she was entering into a fashion show, no more so as though she was a running for a, ‘Miss London’ beauty pageant. Yes she was an extremely beautiful young lady, but by God she knew it! Holding enough confidence of herself and her looks for two people. I could tell that she had a presence about her which would make many others feel extremely intimidated just by her simply walking past them. She acted like a boss and spoke like one too! She clearly didn’t appreciate being cut off, or even being questioned, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter as that was my job to ask her about herself and I suppose that was why she continued to come and see me.

“Him... hmmm. He was nice I guess, not really my type, in terms of looks, but he gave me everything I wanted and needed so of course he was a keeper. Nice height I guess, good build...”

“What about his character, his personality?”

“Erm, he was funny a bit, didn’t talk much, not to me anyway...”

Because you did enough talking for the both of you, I thought to myself.

“...He was considerate, kind, gentle. Made time for me, whenever I needed him, he was there.”

“What about when he needed you? Would you say that you made time for him?”

She took a while to think about the answer to my question, but I knew the answer before she even said it.

“I definitely made time for him,”

“Okay, I don’t mean when it was just convenient for you, I mean at times when he needed you and you wasn’t totally available; if there were times like that, would you say that you made an effort to see him?”

“No.” She said matter-of-factly.

I wasn’t surprised. This formed the basis of my future questions regarding him. I had to get her to realise that he was a person with his own thoughts, behaviours and characteristics besides her. I had to break down their relationship in order for her to see him for who he was to her. I moved onto questions of that night to build up a picture of her world in my own head.

“Okay China, I want you to tell me as much as you can remember from that night, from beginning to end.”

I knew it was going to be mostly about herself but there was a lot that I could infer from even the little things that she told me.

“He came to get me at around 9pm, I hadn’t finished getting ready so he had to wait a while...I’d say about; 45mins. I told him that I could make my own way. Meet him there - I drove too but he liked having me on his arm; like I was some trophy or something. Not that I complained, when you look as good as me you get that kind of treatment! But yeah, he wasn’t mad. He was used to it by now, we’d been together something like 3 or 4 years and he knew it took me a while to look good and on a night where all of our people were going to be at, I had to make even more of a effort to look good. I remember getting into the passenger seat of his car and his reaction was, “Damn baby, you look fine!” in his dumb American accent he liked to put on from time to time. I hated it. Loved the attention and the compliments but hated the accent, as I constantly told him. Did he listen? No! But anyway...We must have got to the house party at 11pm. I remember fixing my make-up on the journey. He was talking to me on the drive but I wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying, his conversation sometimes bored me. We got there now, he came around my side, to open my door after he’d parked up - I never liked to open my own door, that was one thing I didn’t do, especially since I had so much to carry, my LV bag and my Burberry coat - not that I really wanted to carry my coat there, didn’t like to take expensive things to places like that, never know whose hands were feeling light...”

She babbled on about the journey to the house and what she was thinking in regards to the house etc. until I asked her about whose house it was.

“Oh I don’t know, one of his friends I think.”

“So he didn't tell you the occasion of the party or who was going...?” I tried reaching out for answers to questions I thought she would have known the answers to.

“He probably did, I don’t know. You need to know that after a while I just stopped listening to him regarding certain details, well things I felt were trivial to me. All I needed to know was that there was a party happening that he wanted me, as his girlfriend, to go with him to and I had to dress up and look the part, basically.”

She looked at me with her hand stretched out towards me, as though what she had just said was sitting in the palm of her hand and she was offering it to me.

“Okay, so tell me about the course of the night.”

“There were a lot of people in there already, even though it was relatively early. Usually people don’t start arriving till 12am, but anyway. Saw faces I didn't recognise but who recognised me. People trying to say hello to me as though we went way back but I'm there looking in their faces like I’ve literally just seen them for the first time. I’m not rude though, I’ll say hello back even though I don’t know you, just don’t expect me to make conversation with you. I remember being around the guys in the kitchen, I went there to get myself a drink but in all honesty that was where the hot guys were. I introduced myself to them and basically spent the evening in their company. Can’t remember their names though, I think one was called...something beginning with T...don’t know but he was nice, gosh. There were three of them. Anyway so I’m basically with them, and then I hear a scream from the main room where the party is happening. We just think some silly girl has been knocked over or something so we just ignore it but then I see the light go on from the hallway and the music stopped. Then we just hear lots of screaming. I need to go see what’s happening so I go in there and see a whole load of people fighting and someone on the floor. I’m there trying to get past the guys and girls fighting and see who is on the floor but everyone is being pushed and I can’t get to them. Then suddenly I get picked up from behind and carried outside.”

She giggles a little bit, which makes me feel comfortable as the result of her story is not something to be laughing about but I know that it’s because of a funny memory, only she doesn’t make it totally clear why it was funny but later on I realise why.

“Who carried you outside?”

“Tyrone.”

“And who’s Tyrone?”

“A guy that I’ve been kinda seeing...”

“Kind of seeing?”

“Yeah, sort of was messing with.”

I didn't need to ask anything else to know that clearly she had been cheating with this, Tyrone, guy on her boyfriend. But why had he carried her out at that time? With what had just happened at that specific moment, at the time, was a mystery to me but one that I wanted to find the answer to...