Young people trying to grow up too fast in a country with a binge-drinking culture, in a city with a campus quarter promising a never-ending party: Dunedin's recipe for disaster is a heady, and sometimes violating concoction, writes Bruce Munro.
She was jammed up against the bathroom wall beneath the dirty sink as he groped higher up her thigh.
He was 19 or 20, burly, and reeked of alcohol. She was 17.
She began to scream.
For Taylor (not her real name), it started as a daring, fun night out. Three years ago the then-year 13 Dunedin high school pupil was staying at a friend's place; her parents naively unaware the classmate's father was dropping the pair at a party at the university flat of the friend's older sister.
The music was pumping , the lights low, and people were everywhere in the unkempt, two-storey flat on Clyde St, she recalls.
Teenagers willingly swimming out of their depth. It is a scenario that is tediously, if disturbingly, common.
Friends, alcohol, other drugs, the willingness to take risks to gratify the desire for excitement and experience ... it is played out repeatedly throughout the city, region and country. And laws introduced late last year prohibiting the sale of alcohol to anyone under 18 who does not have the express permission of their parents or guardian do not yet seem to be changing the equation.
This month, such is the need, South Dunedin social workers are being trained to help local teens reduce their drug and alcohol use. The programme is based on one that has been running in Central Otago where, this week, it was revealed two Wanaka pupils were suspended from school last month for ''the supply of marijuana during school time''.
Patently, it cannot be claimed Dunedin's young people have either no, or sole claim to problems associated with the use of alcohol and other drugs.
But what Dunedin does have - and it is a potent distinctive compared with other centres in Otago and New Zealand - is a high concentration of just the age group to which many senior high-schoolers aspire.
Within a 1km radius in Dunedin's North End, in addition to about 50 liquor outlets, are more than 20,000 students, most of whom are living away from home for the first time, largely unsupervised. It is a powerful magnet that is having some nasty effects.
Senior Constable Max Holt has been campus cop for seven years. He is at the sharp end of this issue.
February and March were frenetic months in his patch. It was the start of the academic year, there was Orientation Week, and the weather was warm. Every street seemed to have at least one party.
High school-aged youths were like moths to a flame.
''Sometimes there was anything from 50 to 100 [high-schoolers] and possibly even larger,'' Const Holt said.
''It was a weekly occurrence. Mainly on either a Friday or Saturday night.
''The numbers can increase very rapidly through the use of social media.''
During February, police shut down several large student-quarter parties overrun with high school pupils.
When it was reported last month, Otago University Students Association president Ruby Sycamore-Smith urged high school pupils to ''just wait'' until it was their turn to ''experience university life''.
The sheer number of youngsters made it noticeable this year, but it was a perennial problem, Const Holt said.
Young people think the student precinct affords the opportunity to drink without being caught ''because there's so much of it going on around here'', he says.
''As opposed to doing it in any other street in Dunedin where, if you had a hundred kids, you'd be phoning the police immediately.''
But they are conspicuous, of course, because they look so young, he says.
''Campus Watch, who are the eyes, ears and guardians of this North End, trying to keep everyone safe, noticed large groups of school children massing around parties.
''[Commonly] you'd have one lad with a backpack on, with a dozen beer in the back, and they'd all be drinking from one bottle.''
Most university students discourage youngsters from hanging around their parties. But members of some flats with historic connections to Dunedin secondary schools, if not encouraging attendance, are ambivalent to it, Const Holt says.
Holly Abraham, a third-year university student living in Hyde St, renowned for its rowdy street parties, says a high proportion of the high school-aged people she has seen are girls.
''They would stand on our property and wouldn't move. They were just really rude,'' she said.
Const Holt says most of the teenagers are not drinking a lot, although a small number are ''grossly intoxicated''.
But any drug or alcohol-induced impairment can be dangerous, he says.
''They are putting themselves at risk because they are intoxicated and in a grown-up area. This is not a child-friendly environment.
''They are having to make quite important decisions about their safety without adult supervision while under the influence of alcohol.''
Falling and injuring themselves, being hit by vehicles on the state highway, and getting into fights are all real risks in the area.
''And girls pose a significant risk to themselves by being in an adult area under the influence of alcohol. It certainly increases the risk of being taken advantage of,'' he says.
He is not aware of any specific cases of sexual assault, ''but that doesn't mean it is not happening''.
Taylor had not been drinking at the party when she went upstairs in search of a toilet. The party-goers were getting more boisterous, but she did not feel unsafe.
She locked the door and, when finished, opened a second door that led to the rest of the bathroom. Standing there was a guy she did not know, urinating in the sink. A couple of sentences were exchanged as he finished up and moved to let her wash her hands.
''He was standing behind me,'' she said.
''And then he pushed me on to the ground.
''I hit my head on the sink ... and he came down between my legs.
''He started trying to move my underwear. I started to kick. He hit me in the face. I screamed.''
In the hallway, the yells were heard by Taylor's friend, who was talking to one of the male students who lived in the flat.
He smashed the door open, dragged the guy off, yelled at him, hit him, took him downstairs and presumably threw him out.
Taylor was shocked, but stayed at the party until her friend's father picked them up.
She is aware hers is not the only such case.
She knows of four others who have been taken advantage of, or raped, by one young man during the past four years.
''He forces himself on drunk or stoned girls at parties,'' she said.
''It's always alcohol or drugs, and often both.''
The females, high-schoolers and university students when the assaults occurred, ranged in age from 17 to 23 at the time.
The most recent incident was early this year, she said. The man, who is not the one who attacked her, lives outside the main student residential area.
Of course, most secondary schoolers are not going to tertiary-aged parties. And most students are not predators.
Last month, concerned Hyde St residents contacted police to report two extremely intoxicated schoolgirls and their friends who had gatecrashed their party.
But it is still an issue that ''needs to be addressed'', Const Holt says.
''It is apparent that many parents still don't talk to their children, or don't talk to them young enough, about responsible use of alcohol,'' he says.
''They [young people] need to enjoy being young. Don't think you need alcohol at your age. It won't increase your enjoyment one iota. Don't bow to peer pressure.''
It is estimated that almost 10%, or more than 4600, of 16- to 24-year-olds in Otago and Southland have a substance-abuse problem, and three-quarters abuse alcohol.
The biggest group is in the 19-plus age bracket. Even so, each year about 112 people aged 17 or younger turn up at Dunedin Hospital's emergency department with an alcohol-related condition. In January, there were 23, most of whom had just finished their secondary schooling.
Once a month, Const Holt takes part in a weekend community patrol that stretches from the North End to the Octagon. He is regularly told by young people there is nothing to do in Dunedin. He thinks the Dunedin City Council and local secondary schools need to work together to stage regular alcohol-free events for young people.
''They don't need to be extravagant, expensive affairs. They just need to be well-planned - where they can meet and see they can have a huge amount of enjoyment socially without indulging in alcohol ... I think it would work.''
It is unlikely to happen. Not soon, at any rate.
City councillor Jinty MacTavish applauds Const Holt ''for thinking in this space'', but believes the council needs to wait until it has heard from young people about what they want.
A council-led community advisory group is looking at how best to encourage two-way communication between the council and the city's youth. Its recommendations are likely to be given a trial in the second half of this year and launched early next year.
''I think the philosophy of council around youth events is that they are stronger when they are run by young people for young people,'' Ms MacTavish says.
''Once we get this engagement structure up and running, we'll be in a better place to understand the needs of young people and to respond directly to requests from them.''
Mason Stretch, president of the Otago Secondary Principals Association, says schools would support age-appropriate social events but would be unlikely to have the time or resources to help organise them.
''It may be something which youth trusts along with police and other parent [and] community groups could investigate. This issue is a community one,'' Mr Stretch says.
It is also his bottom line on school-aged young people partying and drinking.
Schools are concerned about their pupils' welfare, says Mr Stretch, who is principal of Cromwell College. Many schools run programmes to promote safe behaviour and support parents. But the parties are happening outside school hours, he says.
''No secondary school would condone this behaviour and moreover it is not within their control.''
''This is a broader issue for families and communities and is not a school problem.''
In the meantime, it is often left to those who have suffered harm to try to pick up the pieces.
Taylor, who is now in a committed relationship, says the memories of her attack still trigger fear and anxiety and complicate matters with her partner.
She says one of her friends who has been sexually assaulted wants to lay a complaint with police.
''She's going to go to the police soon, if the others will agree to come forward too.''
