SAN JOSE – Stanford swimmer Brock Turner, 19, faces five felony counts for allegedly raping a woman in an “on-campus attack” according to the San Jose Mercury News. 
 
 The article states that Turner was arrested and charged with raping “an intoxicated, unconscious woman” and was “witnessed by two cyclists who nabbed him in the middle of the night as he tried to run away.” 
 
 Turner faces up to 10 years, and was booked into Santa Clara County Jail on Jan. 18. He has been released on $150,000 bail 
 
 According to the Mercury News, “Turner is charged with one count of rape of an intoxicated person, one count of rape of an unconscious person, one count of sexual penetration by a foreign object of an intoxicated woman, one count of sexual penetration by a foreign object of an unconscious woman and one count of assault with intent to commit rape,” and is set to be arraigned Monday in Palo Alto. 
 
 According to the Mercury News, Turner has not been practicing with the swim team, and is no longer living on campus, and that the alleged victim was not a student at Stanford. 
 
 In terms of swimming, Turner’s career is likely over as the mere act of being arrested on a sexually-connected felony is a Code of Conduct violation bad enough to put Turner on the USA Swimming Banned for Life list. 
 
 Turner is a freshman from Dayton, Ohio, who swam for the Dayton Raiders and was a three-time All-American high school swimmer at Oakwood High School. Turner initially was still listed on the Stanford University men’s swimming roster at the original time of this article. Less than an hour later, he was removed. 
 
 Stanford University spokesperson Lisa Lapin responded to a request for comment from Swimming World with the following statement: 
 
 A former Stanford freshman facing five felony sexual assault charges has voluntarily withdrawn his registration from the university and he is not eligible to re-enroll. Brock Turner, 19, is prohibited from returning to Stanford after an investigation into a January 18 incident that was reported to campus police by concerned students. The Santa Clara County District Attorney on Tuesday filed charges against Turner including rape of an unconscious woman and rape of an intoxicated woman. The District Attorney’s office said students, who came across Turner and a woman who was not a Stanford student, were instrumental in stopping the alleged assault in progress, outdoors near student residences and Lake Lagunita. “Several students, both graduates and undergraduates, were upstanders in this situation,” said Catherine Criswell, the university’s Title IX Coordinator. “They made the courageous decision to intervene and provide assistance. That is exactly the type of leadership and caring we attempt to cultivate in our community, and we commend those students on their courage and quick response.” The Stanford Department of Public Safety immediately conducted an investigation into the incident and turned its findings over to the District Attorney for review. Separately, the university also launched an investigation under its Title IX process. In compliance with the Jeanne Cleary Act, no campus emergency alert was issued in the incident, because the suspect was immediately in custody and there was not an ongoing or immediate threat to the campus community. Turner, a freshman from Dayton, Ohio, had been a member of the men’s swim team. He is scheduled to be arraigned on the charges Monday. 
 
 Other attempts to speak with Stanford Athletics personnel met with referrals to Lapin. An attempt to contact Turner directly has not been returned. Turner has also deleted his Twitter account. ||||| Staff Writers 
 
 SAN JOSE -- A former Stanford University swimmer has been charged with raping an intoxicated, unconscious woman in an on-campus attack that prosecutors say was witnessed by two cyclists who nabbed him in the middle of the night as he tried to run away. 
 
 Brock Allen Turner, 19, who voluntarily withdrew from the school Tuesday, faces five felony counts that could put him behind bars for 10 years. He was booked into Santa Clara County Jail on Jan. 18, shortly after the attack, on suspicion of attempted rape and penetration with a foreign object, both felonies. He has been released on $150,000 bail. 
 
 Brock Turner as he appeared on the night of his arrest on Jan. 18, 2015. (Courtesy Stanford Dept. of Public Safety) (Stanford Department of Public Safety) 
 
 Turner is charged with one count of rape of an intoxicated person, one count of rape of an unconscious person, one count of sexual penetration by a foreign object of an intoxicated woman, one count of sexual penetration by a foreign object of an unconscious woman and one count of assault with intent to commit rape, prosecutor Alaleh Kianerci said Tuesday. 
 
 He is to be arraigned Monday in Palo Alto. Turner could not be reached Tuesday and his attorney, Mike Armstrong of Palo Alto, declined to comment. 
 
 Turner is not permitted to return to campus, the school announced Tuesday evening. 
 
 Advertisement 
 
 The Stanford Daily, following up a story by a campus newsletter, The Fountain Hopper, reported Tuesday that an unnamed freshman varsity athlete who had been accused of attempted rape was no longer practicing with the team and that he was not living on campus. A university spokeswoman said Tuesday the victim was not a student. 
 
 Kianerci declined to reveal details about the victim, describing her only as "a woman attending an on-campus party." 
 
 Turner's arrest comes as campus sexual assaults have attained unprecedented levels of national attention, with activists demanding their colleges do more to prevent assaults and punish offenders. Last spring, Stanford students protested the school's handling of a case in which the accused student -- whom police never charged, but who was found by a Stanford review panel to be responsible for sexual assault -- was permitted to complete his senior year. 
 
 "Rape is a very serious crime and we absolutely take this seriously," Kianerci said of the charges against Turner. 
 
 The attack happened after midnight on a Sunday morning, , outside a party where Turner met the woman, Kianerci said. Two men riding bikes on campus saw an unconscious woman on the ground with a man on top of her. The man ran away, but they chased him down and held him until police arrived, the prosecutor said. 
 
 Kianerci praised the men as good Samaritans, who leapt into action because what they saw "shocked their conscience." 
 
 Turner, a freshman from Dayton, Ohio, was a three-time All-American high school swimmer and state record-holder in two freestyle events, according to his Stanford team bio. He is 6-feet-2-inches tall and weighs 165 pounds, according to the bio. 
 
 When first asked about the arrest Tuesday afternoon, Stanford spokeswoman Lisa Lapin said the university would have no comment. But by Tuesday evening, after prosecutors announced they were charging Turner, she said he had voluntarily left the school and would not be permitted to return. 
 
 "The university has launched its own investigation, in addition to and separate from the law enforcement investigation," Lapin said. 
 
 The men's swim coach and Stanford's athletic department did not return calls. 
 
 Stanford students accused of sexual assault go through a special campus hearing process that can lead to their suspension or expulsion. Those who are charged by prosecutors may be removed from campus while their cases are pending. 
 
 Email Katy Murphy at kmurphy@bayareanewsgroup.com. ||||| Freshman swimmer Brock Turner will be charged with five felony counts on Wednesday after he allegedly raped an intoxicated, unconscious woman on Jan. 18, the Santa Clara County District Attorney’s Office confirmed on Tuesday night. 
 
 Turner faces these charges: rape of an intoxicated person, rape of an unconscious person, sexual penetration by a foreign object of an intoxicated woman, sexual penetration by a foreign object of an unconscious woman and assault with intent to commit rape. 
 
 In the police report, Turner admitted to having sexual contact with the alleged victim but denied nonconsensual intercourse. 
 
 Turner could face up to 10 years in prison. He is set to be arraigned next Monday. 
 
 “This is something that the University takes very seriously, and the University took immediate action,” said University spokesperson Lisa Lapin when reached for comment after the charges became public. 
 
 According to a San Jose Mercury News report, Turner was found on top of an unconscious woman at approximately 1 a.m. on Sunday, Jan. 18, by two cyclists, who chased after him. The Santa Clara District Attorney’s Office confirmed that the two cyclists held him down while a third person called the police. 
 
 “Several students, both graduates and undergraduates, were upstanders in this situation,” Catherine Criswell, the University’s Title IX Coordinator, told the Stanford News Report. “They made the courageous decision to intervene and provide assistance. That is exactly the type of leadership and caring we attempt to cultivate in our community, and we commend those students on their courage and quick response.” 
 
 Turner was arrested for attempted rape on Lomita Court near Kappa Alpha (KA) and Jerry. After the arrest, he was transported to the San Jose Main Jail and released on bond later that day. 
 
 The alleged victim was not a Stanford student, Lapin said. Lapin also confirmed that Turner has voluntarily withdrawn his registration as a Stanford student and is not permitted on campus. Turner is not eligible to re-enroll, according to the Stanford News Report. 
 
 Lapin said she expected news media on campus Tuesday night and advised students that while members of the media are allowed to approach anybody in White Plaza, the University prohibits media from approaching students in residences or classrooms. 
 
 Turner is no longer practicing with his team. He last swam for Stanford in a Jan. 10 meet against Pacific, finishing third in the 1,000-yard freestyle and second in the 200-yard backstroke. 
 
 Turner’s arrest was first publicized on Monday night by on-campus email newsletter The Fountain Hopper and independently confirmed by The Daily. 
 
 Turner’s attorney, Mike Armstrong, declined to comment. 
 
 This post will be updated. 
 
 Contact Alice Phillips at alicep1 ‘at’ stanford.edu or Joseph Beyda at jbeyda ‘at’ stanford.edu. ||||| A former Stanford swimmer who sexually assaulted an unconscious woman was sentenced to six months in jail because a longer sentence would have "a severe impact on him," according to a judge. At his sentencing Thursday, his victim read him a letter describing the "severe impact" the assault had on her. 
 
 One night in January 2015, two Stanford University graduate students biking across campus spotted a freshman thrusting his body on top of an unconscious, half-naked woman behind a dumpster. This March, a California jury found the former student, 20-year-old Brock Allen Turner, guilty of three counts of sexual assault. Turner faced a maximum of 14 years in state prison. On Thursday, he was sentenced to six months in county jail and probation. The judge said he feared a longer sentence would have a “severe impact” on Turner, a champion swimmer who once aspired to compete in the Olympics — a point repeatedly brought up during the trial. On Thursday, Turner's victim addressed him directly, detailing the severe impact his actions had on her — from the night she learned she had been assaulted by a stranger while unconscious, to the grueling trial during which Turner's attorneys argued that she had eagerly consented. The woman, now 23, told BuzzFeed News she was disappointed with the “gentle” sentence and angry that Turner still denied sexually assaulting her. “Even if the sentence is light, hopefully this will wake people up," she said. "I want the judge to know that he ignited a tiny fire. If anything, this is a reason for all of us to speak even louder.” She provided her statement, printed in full below, to BuzzFeed News. 
 
 Your Honor, if it is all right, for the majority of this statement I would like to address the defendant directly. You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me, and that’s why we’re here today. On January 17th, 2015, it was a quiet Saturday night at home. My dad made some dinner and I sat at the table with my younger sister who was visiting for the weekend. I was working full time and it was approaching my bed time. I planned to stay at home by myself, watch some TV and read, while she went to a party with her friends. Then, I decided it was my only night with her, I had nothing better to do, so why not, there’s a dumb party ten minutes from my house, I would go, dance like a fool, and embarrass my younger sister. On the way there, I joked that undergrad guys would have braces. My sister teased me for wearing a beige cardigan to a frat party like a librarian. I called myself “big mama”, because I knew I’d be the oldest one there. I made silly faces, let my guard down, and drank liquor too fast not factoring in that my tolerance had significantly lowered since college. The next thing I remember I was in a gurney in a hallway. I had dried blood and bandages on the backs of my hands and elbow. I thought maybe I had fallen and was in an admin office on campus. I was very calm and wondering where my sister was. A deputy explained I had been assaulted. I still remained calm, assured he was speaking to the wrong person. I knew no one at this party. When I was finally allowed to use the restroom, I pulled down the hospital pants they had given me, went to pull down my underwear, and felt nothing. I still remember the feeling of my hands touching my skin and grabbing nothing. I looked down and there was nothing. The thin piece of fabric, the only thing between my vagina and anything else, was missing and everything inside me was silenced. I still don’t have words for that feeling. In order to keep breathing, I thought maybe the policemen used scissors to cut them off for evidence. 
 
 "You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me, and that’s why we’re here today." 
 
 Then, I felt pine needles scratching the back of my neck and started pulling them out my hair. I thought maybe, the pine needles had fallen from a tree onto my head. My brain was talking my gut into not collapsing. Because my gut was saying, help me, help me. I shuffled from room to room with a blanket wrapped around me, pine needles trailing behind me, I left a little pile in every room I sat in. I was asked to sign papers that said “Rape Victim” and I thought something has really happened. My clothes were confiscated and I stood naked while the nurses held a ruler to various abrasions on my body and photographed them. The three of us worked to comb the pine needles out of my hair, six hands to fill one paper bag. To calm me down, they said it’s just the flora and fauna, flora and fauna. I had multiple swabs inserted into my vagina and anus, needles for shots, pills, had a Nikon pointed right into my spread legs. I had long, pointed beaks inside me and had my vagina smeared with cold, blue paint to check for abrasions. After a few hours of this, they let me shower. I stood there examining my body beneath the stream of water and decided, I don’t want my body anymore. I was terrified of it, I didn’t know what had been in it, if it had been contaminated, who had touched it. I wanted to take off my body like a jacket and leave it at the hospital with everything else. On that morning, all that I was told was that I had been found behind a dumpster, potentially penetrated by a stranger, and that I should get retested for HIV because results don’t always show up immediately. But for now, I should go home and get back to my normal life. Imagine stepping back into the world with only that information. They gave me huge hugs and I walked out of the hospital into the parking lot wearing the new sweatshirt and sweatpants they provided me, as they had only allowed me to keep my necklace and shoes. My sister picked me up, face wet from tears and contorted in anguish. Instinctively and immediately, I wanted to take away her pain. I smiled at her, I told her to look at me, I’m right here, I’m okay, everything’s okay, I’m right here. My hair is washed and clean, they gave me the strangest shampoo, calm down, and look at me. Look at these funny new sweatpants and sweatshirt, I look like a P.E. teacher, let’s go home, let’s eat something. She did not know that beneath my sweatsuit, I had scratches and bandages on my skin, my vagina was sore and had become a strange, dark color from all the prodding, my underwear was missing, and I felt too empty to continue to speak. That I was also afraid, that I was also devastated. That day we drove home and for hours in silence my younger sister held me. My boyfriend did not know what happened, but called that day and said, “I was really worried about you last night, you scared me, did you make it home okay?” I was horrified. That’s when I learned I had called him that night in my blackout, left an incomprehensible voicemail, that we had also spoken on the phone, but I was slurring so heavily he was scared for me, that he repeatedly told me to go find [my sister]. Again, he asked me, “What happened last night? Did you make it home okay?” I said yes, and hung up to cry. I was not ready to tell my boyfriend or parents that actually, I may have been raped behind a dumpster, but I don’t know by who or when or how. If I told them, I would see the fear on their faces, and mine would multiply by tenfold, so instead I pretended the whole thing wasn’t real. I tried to push it out of my mind, but it was so heavy I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t interact with anyone. After work, I would drive to a secluded place to scream. I didn’t talk, I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, I didn’t interact with anyone, and I became isolated from the ones I loved most. For over a week after the incident, I didn’t get any calls or updates about that night or what happened to me. The only symbol that proved that it hadn’t just been a bad dream, was the sweatshirt from the hospital in my drawer. One day, I was at work, scrolling through the news on my phone, and came across an article. In it, I read and learned for the first time about how I was found unconscious, with my hair disheveled, long necklace wrapped around my neck, bra pulled out of my dress, dress pulled off over my shoulders and pulled up above my waist, that I was butt naked all the way down to my boots, legs spread apart, and had been penetrated by a foreign object by someone I did not recognize. This was how I learned what happened to me, sitting at my desk reading the news at work. I learned what happened to me the same time everyone else in the world learned what happened to me. That’s when the pine needles in my hair made sense, they didn’t fall from a tree. He had taken off my underwear, his fingers had been inside of me. I don’t even know this person. I still don’t know this person. When I read about me like this, I said, this can’t be me, this can’t be me. I could not digest or accept any of this information. I could not imagine my family having to read about this online. I kept reading. In the next paragraph, I read something that I will never forgive; I read that according to him, I liked it. I liked it. Again, I do not have words for these feelings. 
 
 "And then, at the bottom of the article, after I learned about the graphic details of my own sexual assault, the article listed his swimming times." 
 
 It’s like if you were to read an article where a car was hit, and found dented, in a ditch. But maybe the car enjoyed being hit. Maybe the other car didn’t mean to hit it, just bump it up a little bit. Cars get in accidents all the time, people aren’t always paying attention, can we really say who’s at fault. And then, at the bottom of the article, after I learned about the graphic details of my own sexual assault, the article listed his swimming times. She was found breathing, unresponsive with her underwear six inches away from her bare stomach curled in fetal position. By the way, he’s really good at swimming. Throw in my mile time if that’s what we’re doing. I’m good at cooking, put that in there, I think the end is where you list your extracurriculars to cancel out all the sickening things that’ve happened. The night the news came out I sat my parents down and told them that I had been assaulted, to not look at the news because it’s upsetting, just know that I’m okay, I’m right here, and I’m okay. But halfway through telling them, my mom had to hold me because I could no longer stand up. The night after it happened, he said he didn’t know my name, said he wouldn’t be able to identify my face in a lineup, didn’t mention any dialogue between us, no words, only dancing and kissing. Dancing is a cute term; was it snapping fingers and twirling dancing, or just bodies grinding up against each other in a crowded room? I wonder if kissing was just faces sloppily pressed up against each other? When the detective asked if he had planned on taking me back to his dorm, he said no. When the detective asked how we ended up behind the dumpster, he said he didn’t know. He admitted to kissing other girls at that party, one of whom was my own sister who pushed him away. He admitted to wanting to hook up with someone. I was the wounded antelope of the herd, completely alone and vulnerable, physically unable to fend for myself, and he chose me. Sometimes I think, if I hadn’t gone, then this never would’ve happened. But then I realized, it would have happened, just to somebody else. You were about to enter four years of access to drunk girls and parties, and if this is the foot you started off on, then it is right you did not continue. The night after it happened, he said he thought I liked it because I rubbed his back. A back rub. Never mentioned me voicing consent, never mentioned us even speaking, a back rub. One more time, in public news, I learned that my ass and vagina were completely exposed outside, my breasts had been groped, fingers had been jabbed inside me along with pine needles and debris, my bare skin and head had been rubbing against the ground behind a dumpster, while an erect freshman was humping my half naked, unconscious body. But I don’t remember, so how do I prove I didn’t like it. I thought there’s no way this is going to trial; there were witnesses, there was dirt in my body, he ran but was caught. He’s going to settle, formally apologize, and we will both move on. Instead, I was told he hired a powerful attorney, expert witnesses, private investigators who were going to try and find details about my personal life to use against me, find loopholes in my story to invalidate me and my sister, in order to show that this sexual assault was in fact a misunderstanding. That he was going to go to any length to convince the world he had simply been confused. I was not only told that I was assaulted, I was told that because I couldn’t remember, I technically could not prove it was unwanted. And that distorted me, damaged me, almost broke me. It is the saddest type of confusion to be told I was assaulted and nearly raped, blatantly out in the open, but we don’t know if it counts as assault yet. I had to fight for an entire year to make it clear that there was something wrong with this situation. 
 
 "I was pummeled with narrowed, pointed questions that dissected my personal life, love life, past life, family life, inane questions, accumulating trivial details to try and find an excuse for this guy who had me half naked before even bothering to ask for my name. " 
 
 When I was told to be prepared in case we didn’t win, I said, I can’t prepare for that. He was guilty the minute I woke up. No one can talk me out of the hurt he caused me. Worst of all, I was warned, because he now knows you don’t remember, he is going to get to write the script. He can say whatever he wants and no one can contest it. I had no power, I had no voice, I was defenseless. My memory loss would be used against me. My testimony was weak, was incomplete, and I was made to believe that perhaps, I am not enough to win this. His attorney constantly reminded the jury, the only one we can believe is Brock, because she doesn’t remember. That helplessness was traumatizing. Instead of taking time to heal, I was taking time to recall the night in excruciating detail, in order to prepare for the attorney’s questions that would be invasive, aggressive, and designed to steer me off course, to contradict myself, my sister, phrased in ways to manipulate my answers. Instead of his attorney saying, Did you notice any abrasions? He said, You didn’t notice any abrasions, right? This was a game of strategy, as if I could be tricked out of my own worth. The sexual assault had been so clear, but instead, here I was at the trial, answering questions like: How old are you? How much do you weigh? What did you eat that day? Well what did you have for dinner? Who made dinner? Did you drink with dinner? No, not even water? When did you drink? How much did you drink? What container did you drink out of? Who gave you the drink? How much do you usually drink? Who dropped you off at this party? At what time? But where exactly? What were you wearing? Why were you going to this party? What’ d you do when you got there? Are you sure you did that? But what time did you do that? What does this text mean? Who were you texting? When did you urinate? Where did you urinate? With whom did you urinate outside? Was your phone on silent when your sister called? Do you remember silencing it? Really because on page 53 I’d like to point out that you said it was set to ring. Did you drink in college? You said you were a party animal? How many times did you black out? Did you party at frats? Are you serious with your boyfriend? Are you sexually active with him? When did you start dating? Would you ever cheat? Do you have a history of cheating? What do you mean when you said you wanted to reward him? Do you remember what time you woke up? Were you wearing your cardigan? What color was your cardigan? Do you remember any more from that night? No? Okay, well, we’ll let Brock fill it in. I was pummeled with narrowed, pointed questions that dissected my personal life, love life, past life, family life, inane questions, accumulating trivial details to try and find an excuse for this guy who had me half naked before even bothering to ask for my name. After a physical assault, I was assaulted with questions designed to attack me, to say see, her facts don’t line up, she’s out of her mind, she’s practically an alcoholic, she probably wanted to hook up, he’s like an athlete right, they were both drunk, whatever, the hospital stuff she remembers is after the fact, why take it into account, Brock has a lot at stake so he’s having a really hard time right now. And then it came time for him to testify and I learned what it meant to be revictimized. I want to remind you, the night after it happened he said he never planned to take me back to his dorm. He said he didn’t know why we were behind a dumpster. He got up to leave because he wasn’t feeling well when he was suddenly chased and attacked. Then he learned I could not remember. So one year later, as predicted, a new dialogue emerged. Brock had a strange new story, almost sounded like a poorly written young adult novel with kissing and dancing and hand holding and lovingly tumbling onto the ground, and most importantly in this new story, there was suddenly consent. One year after the incident, he remembered, oh yeah, by the way she actually said yes, to everything, so. He said he had asked if I wanted to dance. Apparently I said yes. He’d asked if I wanted to go to his dorm, I said yes. Then he asked if he could finger me and I said yes. Most guys don’t ask, can I finger you? Usually there’s a natural progression of things, unfolding consensually, not a Q and A. But apparently I granted full permission. He’s in the clear. Even in his story, I only said a total of three words, yes yes yes, before he had me half naked on the ground. Future reference, if you are confused about whether a girl can consent, see if she can speak an entire sentence. You couldn’t even do that. Just one coherent string of words. Where was the confusion? This is common sense, human decency. According to him, the only reason we were on the ground was because I fell down. Note; if a girl falls down help her get back up. If she is too drunk to even walk and falls down, do not mount her, hump her, take off her underwear, and insert your hand inside her vagina. If a girl falls down help her up. If she is wearing a cardigan over her dress don't take it off so that you can touch her breasts. Maybe she is cold, maybe that's why she wore the cardigan. Next in the story, two Swedes on bicycles approached you and you ran. When they tackled you why didn’t say, “Stop! Everything’s okay, go ask her, she’s right over there, she’ll tell you.” I mean you had just asked for my consent, right? I was awake, right? When the policeman arrived and interviewed the evil Swede who tackled you, he was crying so hard he couldn’t speak because of what he’d seen. Your attorney has repeatedly pointed out, well we don’t know exactly when she became unconscious. And you’re right, maybe I was still fluttering my eyes and wasn’t completely limp yet. That was never the point. I was too drunk to speak English, too drunk to consent way before I was on the ground. I should have never been touched in the first place. Brock stated, “At no time did I see that she was not responding. If at any time I thought she was not responding, I would have stopped immediately.” Here’s the thing; if your plan was to stop only when I became unresponsive, then you still do not understand. You didn’t even stop when I was unconscious anyway! Someone else stopped you. Two guys on bikes noticed I wasn’t moving in the dark and had to tackle you. How did you not notice while on top of me? You said, you would have stopped and gotten help. You say that, but I want you to explain how you would’ve helped me, step by step, walk me through this. I want to know, if those evil Swedes had not found me, how the night would have played out. I am asking you; Would you have pulled my underwear back on over my boots? Untangled the necklace wrapped around my neck? Closed my legs, covered me? Pick the pine needles from my hair? Asked if the abrasions on my neck and bottom hurt? Would you then go find a friend and say, Will you help me get her somewhere warm and soft? I don’t sleep when I think about the way it could have gone if the two guys had never come. What would have happened to me? That’s what you’ll never have a good answer for, that’s what you can’t explain even after a year. On top of all this, he claimed that I orgasmed after one minute of digital penetration. The nurse said there had been abrasions, lacerations, and dirt in my genitalia. Was that before or after I came? To sit under oath and inform all of us, that yes I wanted it, yes I permitted it, and that you are the true victim attacked by Swedes for reasons unknown to you is appalling, is demented, is selfish, is damaging. It is enough to be suffering. It is another thing to have someone ruthlessly working to diminish the gravity of validity of this suffering. My family had to see pictures of my head strapped to a gurney full of pine needles, of my body in the dirt with my eyes closed, hair messed up, limbs bent, and dress hiked up. And even after that, my family had to listen to your attorney say the pictures were after the fact, we can dismiss them. To say, yes her nurse confirmed there was redness and abrasions inside her, significant trauma to her genitalia, but that’s what happens when you finger someone, and he’s already admitted to that. To listen to your attorney attempt to paint a picture of me, the face of girls gone wild, as if somehow that would make it so that I had this coming for me. To listen to him say I sounded drunk on the phone because I’m silly and that’s my goofy way of speaking. To point out that in the voicemail, I said I would reward my boyfriend and we all know what I was thinking. I assure you my rewards program is non transferable, especially to any nameless man that approaches me. 
 
 "This is not a story of another drunk college hook­up with poor decision making. Assault is not an accident."
– A former freshman swimmer at Stanford University has been barred from the campus and is facing felony charges after allegedly raping a woman as she lay unconscious on campus. Early on Sunday, Jan. 18, two male cyclists saw the woman on the ground and a man on top of her; he ran away, but they chased him, tackled him, and held him until police arrived, called there by a third person. The suspect turned out to be Brock Allen Turner, 19, who met the alleged victim Saturday night at a party, the San Jose Mercury News reports. The woman was not a student at the university but was visiting for the party, the Los Angeles Times reports. Turner voluntarily withdrew from Stanford yesterday; he's charged with rape of an intoxicated person, rape of an unconscious person, sexual penetration by a foreign object of an intoxicated woman, sexual penetration by a foreign object of an unconscious woman, and assault with intent to commit rape. He faces 10 years in prison. "This is something that the University takes very seriously, and the University took immediate action," a spokesperson tells the Stanford Daily. Swimming World magazine notes that simply being arrested for such a crime is likely enough to end Turner's swimming career.