At the sight of the blood, panic flooded my system – I felt scared and anxious. It looked completely different to period blood, in the sense that it was more fresh and looked like it was never-ending.
He asked: ‘Why are you bleeding so much?’
I didn’t know the answer. I felt shaken.
There was pain and there was blood, but the blood made the room look like a crime scene. It spilled everywhere in a gushing waterfall, staining through the bedspread and into the mattress, down the sides of the bed frame and onto the carpet.
After the bleeding started and we stopped having sex, I started using sanitary pads to try to stop the bleeding. When I got through six of them, I decided to call 111 and they asked if the sex was consensual and to describe the events that led up to it.
They told me to go to the nearest walk-in centre. At this point, I’d nearly fainted once and felt dizzy, like my entire body was experiencing pins and needles. My mouth was so dry. All I could think was that my family would kill me.
We went to the local walk-in centre – where they told me I had to go to A&E, I almost passed out, breaking my phone screen when it slipped out of my hand, as they didn’t have the equipment to find out what was wrong.
On the way there, alone, I nearly fainted again in the Uber – the driver had to pull over and get me a packet of cereal bars and a bottle of water, which helped. While in the waiting room, I’d managed to contact my best friend and by the time I’d been taken into one of the wards for serious injuries, she’d arrived.
