The college years: 1st year 1991-1992.

One Sunday afternoon in September 1991, my parents drove me down to Winchester and dropped me off at a strange house. I was 18 and had never been away from home for more than 2 weeks.

My first term was nerve racking and I grew in many ways as I discovered the student lifestyle. I still had the home feel as my landlord and landlady were like another (less strict) set of parents. Their younger daughter, Bryony, was still living at home and we became firm friends.

On our fisrt day the Teaching Studies tutors had us doing the strangest things to 'break the ice'. All B'Ed students had to go to the exam hall with a pebble. Once there we then had to wander round and find a match for our stone....in about 30 seconds!!!! We then had to sit down with our new friend and tell them what their name was, where they came from and which course they were doing. I got my partner completely wrong. He was almost right about me, he reckoned my name was Karen (not too far from Korinne), that I came from London (just outside actually) and that I was studying B'Ed English (now that bit wasn't too difficult as most B'Ed students were doing English).

By the end of the 2nd term I had met the group of friends who have become lifelong friends. We have been through a lot together and although spread around the counrty, we still keep in touch and meet up when possible.

We studied hard and we played hard. I learnt how to eat frugally so that I had more money for cider and walked most places ...again to save money for cider ;o) I agreed to share a flat with 4 friends, Jenny (Maths), Becca (English), Kirsty (Biology) and Annemarie (Art) for our 2nd year...true independence!

Before I knew it, my 1st year ended and I went back to Stevenage to work for the summer. In a year I had parted with a boyfriend, learnt to budget and live independently, learnt that college life was amazing and grown up an awful lot.

One Friday night after work, I got on a train to go back to Winchester to spend the weekend with Bryony. We were going out for a few drinks and a boogie at, the *delightful* club, The Red Electric (commonly known as The Dead Epileptic). We were both off men so we wore jeans and t-shirts and made less effort than usual with our appearances. We spent the evening basically slagging off the male species. At 2am the club closed and we set about walking home as we had done on most Friday nights.

Arm in arm we chatted as we walked up Romsey Road. We were part way up when we were jumped out at by a short fat drunk. He held a screwdriver at our throat and demanded we did as we were told. I froze. Thank God Bri had the presence of mind to grab me and scream run. We ran down the road until we met up with a man on the railway bridge, he and a man who had seen what had happened accompanied us to the police station.

Bri phoned her parents and they came and waited with us as we gave our statements. While Bryony was giving hers, our assailant walked by the police station and I pointed him out. He was duly arrested and was found to have the screwdriver in his pocket....idiot!

Summer holidays passed in a state of fear and tears. A lady from Victim Support came to see me to *help*. She was as useful as a chocolate teapot, I still remember her words; ' Well, in a way you are to blame, you shouldn't have been out at that time of night.' I knew that I couldn't let my life be controlled by fear so I decided that my 2nd year would be a fresh start.