I've never been hit in the face before. Being a short white girl I guess that's not surprising, but the fight surprised me.
It started when we cycled from the bar to the party. We stopped to let people catch up and decide our route, but some cock thought he'd call us hippies in front of the drunkest of our number. Suddenly this guy is throwing punches over my head at the guy behind me. Suddenly my head hits the tarmac and I'm watching this bizarre scene upside-down until a foot meets my thigh. But my friend is in the line of this cokehead's punches, so unwisely I rejoin the fracas.
All I can remember is thinking this guy must be high, my hands are pretty tightly wrapped in his hair and he's still going, he's hit my head a few times on the way to his perceived threat.
The police van arrives, and half a dozen people are in handcuffs. I see blood smeared on the back of my hand, and wonder where I am bleeding from. I worry about the half-bottle of wine in my bag, whether this will make things more difficult for me. I am very nearly sober, and this is not fun.
A stout policewoman tries to get my details, while I ask her questions about the man in handcuffs. She takes my phone number and hands me a tissue, but I still don't know where the blood is coming from. I suddenly hope it's mine. People are crying, people are leaving the scene for home.

Later, walking back because I'm shaking too hard to cycle, the police phone me. My friend answers and tells them where to stick it, because I'm in a complete state and she doesn't want me to give a statement. They tell me they will come to my house if I don't co-operate, take me into custody. Nobody else believes them, so neither do I.

Eventually the police hang up on me, because I am talking too much.