These stories are inspired by the real experiences of young people shared with us at Rosie’s Place, stories of challenge, courage, and searching for doors that lead away from harm and toward safety and dignity.

These stories contain material that some readers may find confronting and unsettling. Words or images may bring up feelings of sadness or discomfort, especially for people who have been subjected to sexual harm.

If you need support, you can contact: Kids Helpline (24/7) 1800 55 1800 or 1800 RESPECT (24/7) 1800 737 732

Quick exit

Chapter 3

Bridie’s Story

I jumped onto the train just as the doors were closing.

Two girls had just stepped off. One was comforting the other who looked very upset.

I slumped in the first seat I saw and took out my water bottle. I was out of breath from running but my heart was pounding for another reason.

I took out my phone. Ash’s messages glared at me. I started scrolling back through them to see if there were any clues as to why things had turned out like this.

Suddenly a new message from Ash popped up, then another, and another. These messages were angry messages. They said that I am mental and need to get my head sorted if we are to get back together.

I blocked her number.

I closed my eyes and thought back to when we first met. It was at a friend’s party, and we had hit it off immediately.

She was so easy to talk to and my usual anxiety when with people I didn’t know disappeared. We chatted together all night.

Over the next few weeks, we hung out all the time. My foster Mum joked I was “too much in love”.

But then my foster Mum seemed to start to worry about me and asked why I didn’t see any of my other friends anymore.

Ash had been through a lot like me, and she really understood me.

She would say to me all the time that I was amazing and only she knew how great I was.

She promised to always look after me.

Sometimes, though, things would bother me about Ash. She would ask me for money and buy food for herself but not share it. She would tell me:

I needed to lose weight.

Dress differently. Colour my hair...

...because she loves redheads.

Ash made me do sexual things that made me very uncomfortable. I would try to distract her and suggest other stuff, but she would tell me that I would get to like it.

She said it made her feel that I really loved her, and she really loved me.

Then she started using her phone to film us having sex, even though I told her I didn’t like it.

She would tell me “not to be so weird” and that I needed to “chill”.

The sex between us started to change, with Ash being the one who decided what we did.

She would tell me that she was helping me get over my past and sort out my head.

I believed her when she would tell me that I was really messed up. I trusted her when she said she was the only one who could help me.

I tried so hard to please her...

to be different...

to be better.

But it was never enough for Ash. And then this happened...

Ash was having a shower and I was just scrolling sitting on the bed.

Ash’s phone keep dinging. There were so many dings I had to look.

As I read the messages, I started to feel sick.

The last one read:

Sam
2:38 pm
When will you be with her again so I can watch?!!

I could not process what I was reading...

My head was spinning out with questions as I tried to work out what this was about.

As I read the messages again and again I knew what they were about.

"Ash had used me."

"Lied to me."

"Betrayed me."

I had to leave and grabbed my backpack. As I moved to the door, I saw the photo I had printed of us on the floor. I didn’t pick it up, but stomped on it with my boot as I left.

I sent a text to my foster Mum, asking her to pick me up from the station near our house at 4.15pm.

I told her that something really bad had happened and I just needed to come home. I told her that Ash and I were over.

The train speaker suddenly blurted out the recording that we were coming into the next station. I returned from my thoughts, lifted my head and looked out to see where we were.

In the reflection of the train window I could see a girl sitting with a group of guys. The guy sitting next to her seemed to be holding her tightly against him, and her head was on his shoulder.

But it didn’t look OK. She didn’t look OK.

There was something in her face that worried me, so I turned to look at her.

The guys around her were laughing and seemed to be having a go at another girl sitting behind. But neither of the girls were laughing along with them.

The girl being held tightly reminded me of myself. She looked scared. I knew that look. The look I had so many times when I was with Ash.

She looked over at me and I raised my hand as if to say “Hi”.

She gave a slight smile as the guy pulled her in closer.

The train pulled in to my station, and I was relieved my foster Mum’s car was already there.

I glanced back at the girl on the train and hoped she would be OK.