My Friends and I Stopped a Sexual Assault. The Trauma Bonded Us For Life.

This story is based on an interview with the editors of The Doe.

My friend and I have a yearly tradition of taking a short trip to Barcelona in the summer. We usually stay on the beach for the whole day, and then occasionally go for food. Our 2022 trip coincided with my 24th birthday. This particular day, a bunch of guys had come up to us on the beach, trying to get our numbers and flirt. We said "no" to all of them. But towards the end of the day, a really tall German guy covered in tattoos came over to us. My friend is from Switzerland and speaks German, so we got to talking and ended up going to dinner with him and his friend. 

The guy’s friend left after dinner, and suddenly there were three of us. The conversation started to get flirty. My friend had a guy she was dating at the time, so she was a bit more reserved, but I was fresh off of a breakup. I really fancied him, but there was a language barrier—I’m from Bulgaria and only speak a little bit of German—so my friend was acting as the translator. At one point he suggested, "Why don't we all go to the beach together and welcome your birthday?” I remember having some hesitation about it. When we stopped to drop off our stuff at the hostel, I considered just telling them I was going to bed. But they were very persuasive and said I should try to celebrate my 24th birthday. 

We went to the main beach where the clubs are in Barcelona. There are a lot of tourists and it’s well-lit—a lot of police hanging around. We were sitting on the beach having some beers, and I don’t know quite how it happened, but we just sort of started making out, all three of us. Just before three in the morning, we walked to the other beach beyond the pier that's a bit more secluded. My friend went skinny-dipping while I was with the German guy, kissing and doing all sorts of things. Later, she got involved, too—we were basically having a threesome at this point. But then we turn to one side and we see that some guy is not too far from us. We decided to move even further down the beach. 

I couldn’t stop putting myself in the victim’s shoes and imagining how scared she must have been.

Twenty minutes after we moved, I spotted the same guy about 50 to 100 meters away from us. And he’s lying on the beach masturbating. At first I found it funny; I didn’t feel scared because I wasn’t alone. I tried to make a joke out of it with my friends, like, “I don’t mean to interrupt what you’re doing, but this guy is having a wank looking at us.” Eventually the guy realized we saw him, and he pulled his shorts up and left. I didn’t think much of it.

Shortly after that, I remember turning and seeing some sort of wrestling going on. I had a really odd feeling like something was wrong. I immediately screamed at the German guy to come and run with me. I don't think my friend realized what was going on because she didn't come until later. I started sprinting towards them, wearing the German guy’s t-shirt, no underwear. The closer I get to the wrestling people, the more I realized what was actually going on. I could see that the same guy that was having a wank was now attacking a girl in a white dress.

The German guy ran towards him and knocked him with his knee in his head, trying to get the attacker off the girl. He pinned the attacker down, trying not to beat him up. I could see my friend in the distance walking, so confused because she didn't realize what was going on. And the girl: I've never seen anyone so panicked in my life. She was just completely in shock, crying, almost screaming. She kept asking for a cigarette.

My friend called the police, but they were having a difficult time finding us on beach. While we waited, I couldn’t stop putting myself in the victim’s shoes and imagining how scared she must have been. I think that’s my most prominent memory of that night. She tells us she's staying with a friend of hers who’s living in Barcelona, so we call that friend and ask her to come help, since she speaks Spanish. 

The police arrive and were very helpful, especially one lady. They were trying to look for signs of her attack. Her knees were bruised. Her arms were bruised. Two policemen took the guy, put him in the back of their car, and left him there for a little bit. The girl's friend arrived and told her, “What did you expect was going to happen if you come here on your own?” She blamed her friend for being attacked. My friend and I were so shocked to see how cold this woman was, not even giving her friend a hug or trying to reassure her or calm her down. 

Eventually the police put the German guy, the girl that got attacked, and her friend who could translate in the back of their car. They told me and my friend that we had to go back on our own. Are you kidding us? It was the worst place to leave two girls on their own now. 

Luckily, our hostel wasn't too far—maybe about a 15-minute walk. I was walking and shivering, filled with adrenaline, not being able to comprehend what just happened. We got back to the hostel at five in the morning. I called my mom and started crying. She was supportive and said, “I think you should go and try and get some sleep.” I remember lying in bed for what felt like hours, and every time I closed my eyes, the imagery of the attack came up. 

I got in touch with my therapist the next day and she was able to do a little bit of a crisis intervention. Then the three of us met the next day for dinner. Because it was my birthday, they took me out for for a meal. It was a bit of a surreal connection that I've rarely felt in my life. It was almost beyond words—just the experience of sharing something so intense and being able to coordinate our efforts to get through it. It felt like we beat evil together. After dinner we rented a boat, and it was probably one of the most beautiful experiences I've had on a holiday. It was a nice way to wrap up bonding together before each of us was headed our own way.