Dear Arthur Collins: A letter from one of your acid attack victims
Arthur Collins has been sentenced to 20 years in prison after he carried out an acid attack in an east London club on Easter Sunday.
The 25-year-old, who is the ex-boyfriend of Towie's Ferne McCann, was found guilty last month of five counts of causing grievous bodily harm with intent and nine counts of assault causing actual bodily harm.
Twenty-three-year-old Phoebe Georgiou was one of his 22 victims.
After months of treatment for the physical and mental scars, Phoebe has written a victim personal statement to her attacker.
Graphic content: Readers may find some of the details in this article upsetting.
Ever since that fateful Easter Sunday in April 2017, the day my old life was taken from me, all my time has been spent trying to process and work towards some kind of recovery of my burned, scarred skin and the psychological trauma you've caused me.
Physically and mentally, I'll never be the same.
From the moment that thick, steaming, caustic liquid came flying through the air, landing on my skin, drenching, burning and choking me, my life changed.
The moment I ran into the hospital scared for my life to receive treatment for my burned, blistering skin. The moment I stepped foot into a freezing cold shower to try and wash the acid off of my skin.
The five hours that followed, under that same freezing cold shower between shots of morphine and PH level checks, before being transferred by ambulance to a specialist burns unit an hour away.
The moment I had my broken, burnt, raw skin scraped off of my chest, breasts and arm, while being dosed with morphine and nitrous oxide in an attempt to ease the agonising pain I was in.
The moment my chest, breasts and arm were bandaged up, layers of gauze and silver wrapped tightly onto my open, raw wounds.
The four weeks that followed, where I was unable to move or care for myself. I have had to relive these harrowing moments daily and they have haunted me ever since.
My mental recovery has been the biggest challenge. Whilst bed ridden, wrapped in bandages, not being able to move without rupturing my skin, and not being able to wash myself and care for myself, the thoughts that filled my mind were suicidal.
'Do I want to carry on living, knowing the wounds under my bandages will scar, constantly living in fear that I am going to be attacked if I leave the house?'
I couldn't cope with the pain, not even the strong co-codamol and ibuprofen cocktail I was taking was easing it. I was scared, traumatised and helpless.
One month after the attack, just as I thought my skin would maybe start to settle, I was admitted back into hospital. I had two abscesses growing underneath my burns. The doctors thought they were caused by the caustic substance that you threw, as they had treated another one of your victims who also suffered the same infection.
I felt exhausted, stressed, sad, angry, depressed, frustrated. I thought my pain and suffering would never end.
In order to open up the abscesses and drain the puss from my already burned skin, I had to be operated on in the special burns unit. I was then kept in hospital for five days afterwards, in order to monitor the success of the operations and have my dressing changed daily.
The process involved pulling a gauze wick drained in antiseptic liquid out of my open wounds and re-filling them with new ones every day. I was given morphine and Tramadol for the pain and was also on a drip of three different strong antibiotics for my entire stay.
On being released from hospital I was told I had to go back in every two days for the following month, as my wounds needed to be re-filled by a specialist nurse.
My entire summer was filled with trips to hospital and therapy appointments. I have had to massage healing cream into my scarred skin three times a day and wear a pressure garment on my left arm every day to try to flatten the scars.
I am still undergoing treatment and last week I was told that I have to start ongoing laser and micro needling treatments on my scars in an attempt to erase or at the very least fade out the physical damage that you have caused me.
It has been eight months since the attack on April 17, 2017 and I have been suffering from anxiety attacks and sleep paralysis ever since, fearing my own life.
I have had to suppress panic attacks whenever I try and leave my house. I have not stepped into a bar, club or even a crowded space since that night. I have been undergoing therapy weekly to try and manage my post-traumatic stress disorder.
But the physical and psychological trauma you have put me through weren't enough for you.
Instead of coming forward and admitting and taking responsibility for your actions, you gutlessly ran from the evil crime that you committed. You showed no remorse or compassion for me or any of your victims.
When you were finally found, seven days after you threw a full bottle of acid with a PH level of 1 over masses of people in a crowded nightclub, you tried to run again.
You then dragged all of your victims through the mud, forcing us all to relive the pain and anguish and suffer throughout the entirety of this case.
You wasted everyone's time, causing me and my family so much strain and anxiety - all because you couldn't find a thread of human decency in your being to take responsibility for your actions and the pain that you've caused.
This case and the constant broadcasting of it in the news has made my recovery an even bigger struggle. I have been given a life sentence because of you.
But I am growing stronger every day and I will move forward leaving the mess you have caused behind me, where you belong.