copyright © Andi Dawson
Before I start, I want to tell you that I didn’t do it. I am innocent and yet proven guilty. I have been asked on numerous occasions to tell my side of the story and until now I always refused. In fact, I am not selling my story now; I am giving it away. I don’t want a penny for the following information. My only hope is that my side of the story proves my innocence, as I know it will.
I also want to make it known that I don’t want any sort of compensation for being locked up for ten years, I don’t even want an apology. I don’t hold anyone responsible and will not seek retribution or revenge. I simply want to get back to the life I once had, or as close to it as I can get.
So, the story, that’s what you’re waiting for isn’t it? I remember everything as if it was yesterday, but it’s nearly 13 years ago now. It’s hard to believe that it’s been so long, I don’t feel any older; wiser maybe. I wish I had been wiser back then, although I’m sure things would have gone the same way. You see I couldn’t have done or said anything differently. I did what I had to do to save myself. I’m sure you’re wondering why. What could have been so bad that my only escape was to admit to a crime I didn’t commit?
Back then I was a mess, physically, mentally and financially. I was living in a squat in the middle of London with 10 other people. We called it Disciple House and said that someday our Lord would come and save us all. But before that happened I met Jude; or Judas as the other housemates called him. They all thought he was trouble and told me to steer well clear but I couldn’t help myself. He intrigued me like no other human being ever had. He had so much mystery about him and I couldn’t get enough. He, on the other hand, didn’t even notice me; six and a half months went by without a word from him. I spoke to him every time I saw him, he rarely even made eye contact and I finally decided to give up. Surprise, surprise that’s when he spoke; my mom always told me to play hard to get rather than offering myself on a plate. I should have listened to my mom more often.
So, finally he said hello, it was enough to make me explode. Luckily, I didn’t, and before I knew it we were chatting like we’d been friends for six and a half months. He was so amazing, so interesting and so sexy! For a further three months we talked, with occasional breaks for food and sleep; and then finally we made love and it was, well it was ok. Of course I had expected it to be incredible, had expected the earth to move or at least for the headboard to shudder. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have a clue how to perform the act of love, which was quite a shock. After that first time I tried to help him improve his style, I did everything except draw diagrams and eventually he got the hang of it. He got good, very good and we had some great times until he started practising his technique with other people.
It broke my heart when I found out what he was doing. I caught him in bed with one of our friends. He was lying there with her straddled across him; they didn’t know I was in the room till I grabbed her by the hair. His face was so…surprised I suppose, especially after I kicked him in the family jewels. She was quite shocked too when I threw her out the front door without her clothes.
We started to work things out and then after one month when everything was getting back to normal he did it again. Except the second time I didn’t walk in half way through, I caught them smoking their after sex fag. Needless to say I wasn’t impressed and neither were they after I threw them both out onto the street naked.
A few weeks passed and he came grovelling back. After fabulous make-up-sex he vowed to remain faithful. It was then that I started experimenting with drugs. Every time he strayed I would attack him and the whore he was with, they’d both get thrown out onto the street and I’d try another way to get on with life. The third and fourth time he was unfaithful I smoked so much grass I was stoned from the second I opened my eyes. By the ninth and tenth time I’d tried ecstasy and speed, enjoying both a great deal. I think it was the eighteenth act of infidelity that encouraged me to try coke and I don’t mean the stuff you get in cans. Each time he slept with someone else I slipped deeper and deeper into total depravity, getting more and more used to being betrayed and taking him back every time he pleaded.
Then he joined me in my hobby of complete annihilation and what started as a way of coping with heartbreak soon became a regular daily pastime for both of us. It even stopped his wondering eye from wondering. He needed me, he wanted me and when we ran out of cash for the coke he pawned me. The fact of the matter was I didn’t mind him ‘lending’ me to other men as long as we got enough money to score everyday. Pretty soon we were both selling our sorry souls to the devil, but after nearly meeting the evil one I decided I needed help. I spoke to a doctor and managed to sign up to rehab hoping that I’d be able to help both of us. I soon realised I couldn’t and before I knew what was happening he was sleeping around again, for free.
The last time I caught him in bed with someone else finally finished me off. I lashed out, went absolutely crazy and trashed the place. Then I realised that he wasn’t screwing her or smoking the after sex fag, he was lying there totally motionless, making no attempt to defend or protect himself. I soon found out why…the girl lying next to him was stone cold and turning blue; she was dead. Her name was Jesse, which I later found out is Hebrew for ‘God exists’. Jude said all he did was kiss her. I freaked!
The sign couldn’t have been clearer, it was time to get out. Jude told me he had picked her up in a bar and offered to pay her to go back to Disciple House. She declined the money but went back with him to talk. He said they did talk for a while, she kept telling him he needed to sort himself out, get some help soon; then while someone, somewhere was screaming he kissed her and she died. Neither of us spoke or moved for about an hour, then he began to cry, saying that he didn’t mean to kill her, he’d only kissed her; that’s all he’d done her swore. But none of it mattered to me, I was so aware of what had to happen, what needed to be done.
So, I did what needed to be done. I got Jude dressed, shaved his beard and hair, packed his bag and put him on a train to Manchester with an address of a friend who’d take care of him. Two hours after walking into chaos I finally achieved calm. Jesse still lay in my bed while I sat and wrote my suicide note. It was short and sweet, apologising to my family for everything I’d put them through, I also said that Jesse and I had a pact and that no one else had anything to do with it. I finished the letter and took all the coke I had in the room, knowing that I would overdose and die.
And I did die; trouble is I was saved, brought back to life. If it hadn’t of been for a nosy housemate I would have been dead and gone, instead I was “lucky to be alive” they said. The paramedics tried in vain to save Jesse, they also found the suicide note and radioed for the police.
The rest as they say is history. The coroner discovered that the cause of Jesse’s death was suffocation, someone had smothered her with something and as I was the only other person involved they charged me with murder. The evidence against me mounted up, my fingerprints were everywhere, I had no alibi and a housemate kindly informed the police of my incredible temper. I suppose pleading guilty didn’t do much to help me either but I knew that’s what I had to do in order to save myself from my life. Jude was miles away and even after all he’d done I still wanted to help him; I knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive if he was put in prison and deep down I didn’t think he meant to kill her, he probably just didn’t want her to leave. Even after they told me they’d found signs of rape I didn’t change my plea, I wouldn’t tell them about Jude. They constantly asked me about who raped her, but I never spoke.
Not until now. I believe that in saving Jude I was also saving myself. If we’d carried on the way we were we would have been dead within six months. Doing what I did got me the help I needed, I hoped that Jude had got help too. My friend in Manchester wrote to me in prison to tell me that Jude had moved on to Edinburgh and she’d lost touch with him; that was the last I heard of him until yesterday. The papers said he was found in a squat, hanging from the ceiling joists, a girl of 16 dead in the bed, she too had been suffocated after being raped. That is why I am breaking my silence, now he’s dead I have no one to protect anymore. The years I have spent in prison have been tough but I have grown up, got off drugs and even got an education. I’m ready to start my life over and I think I deserve to now.
With all the new technology available to the police, I trust that they will be able to link the two murders to Jude and prove my innocence. All I did was try to save him and myself, I thought that by killing myself I would have made everything better; I’m glad that I was brought back. I hope that after everything is investigated they will simply let me go free and the next time I speak to you I will be outside these prison walls.
