I had an English friend who also lived in the suburbs between my town and Paris. He’s probably in his 50s, his wife is somewhere in her 30s. They’re mostly nice by he strikes me as somewhat shallow. When I was attacked I thought I could talk to him. I half hoped that because he had a spare room he might put me up for a couple of months until I could find somewhere to really live. We were both Christians and had been to the same church, we went to the same bible study group on Wednesday evenings. I just figured he’d be there for me as a friend in the very least. I told him by text that I had been attacked by a housemate, the basics of what happened and I was invited over for dinner.
I was grateful for the food, with money so tight between the 450€ of rent and the 400€ paycheque I was struggling to eat. When I got there though, instead of having a nice dinner with friends I was blamed for what happened to me. I was asked why I didn’t run or didn’t cry out. This was the first time that I had been blamed for my attacker’s actions. I said I freaked out because he had my keys in his pocket and even if I could run I couldn’t run out through a locked door or a shuttered first floor window. Whatever, I carried on defending myself. I was being quoted the bible saying I was as bad my attacker for now crying out, a somewhat controversial passage that comes from Deuteronomy. I was expecing some New Testament comfort, such as love your neighbour, or let he who has not sinned cast the first stone. He said because of my past I didn’t do anything to not deserve it. I bit down and listened to it, at the end of that I said only God can judge me and went home. So much for this person helping me. I didn’t realise I had to be a full virgin to deserve Christian help, or that it was my fault for not shouting when I freaked out.
I kept in touch but stopped talking to him about personal details, I was going for dinner once every two weeks and it would be my only healthy meal. I would being a 3€ bottle of wine for a three course meal and nice conversation. It was a good deal. A few weeks after I was attacked he had a friend with a flat in the suburbs but it was two hours from my classes. I spoke to the owner but she wasn’t willing seeing how far away it was and how she really wanted a live in nanny and I was already working. It doesn’t matter, I didn’t get the room. When I changed church he followed me to the new church and tried intergrating with the other Scots. It was pathetically funny but at least he tried.