Getting free: Terror, violence and … finally freedom
For close to four decades, I’ve been an advocate for victims and survivors of domestic violence and sexual abuse. It has been quite a journey.
Along the way, I’ve met so many incredibly strong, wise, brave, and determined women who have faced terrible abuse from the person who, at the beginning of the relationship, claimed to love them. They have learned the hard way that love and abuse do not go together.
One woman’s case, in particular, sticks with me. She fell in love with a man who was deeply troubled, but who — she thought — would work his way out of it if she helped him. There was one problem: he wasn’t interested in changing his ways and used his troubled childhood as an excuse for abusing and terrorizing her. There is no excuse for abuse.
He did what all abusers do: he dropped an invisible net. She wasn’t allowed to see her family and friends anymore. He started restricting her every move. She walked on eggshells 24/7, which is no way to live.
She wasn’t even “allowed” to paint her toenails with a bright color.
He said he told her many times that he would “chop me up into little pieces” and bury her in the back yard. He told her he would find her no matter where she went and reminded her that they were to stay together “’til death do we part.” She absolutely believed he was capable of killing her and feared he would hurt her parents.
Related Items
Haywood Community Band holiday concert
‘The Best Christmas Pageant Ever’
‘Christmas at Lake Junaluska’
'Wickhams: Christmas at Pemberly’
Her horizons grew smaller and smaller until all she saw was him, which was one of his goals. Every time she wanted to see her kids or do something on her own, there was hell to pay.
She said he would drive fast to scare her, and put a knife or a gun on the hood of her car to intimidate her. One time, he shot a gun close to her head and threatened to shoot her dog.
She said, “You learn to live in fear; you don’t know anything else.”
This is how she finally got free.
She said, “Everything took a bad turn when criminal charges were filed against him for strangling (choking) me.”
He was supposed to go to court. He ordered her to take him and took his gun. They had to stop and get gas. One of the workers at the gas station saw her crying when she came in.
She texted her friend and said he had a gun. Her friend called 911. She was stalling for time in the bathroom, hoping the cops would get there. She was afraid he would shoot everyone.
She got back in the vehicle, shaking. She prayed for the cops to come. She acted like she was going to throw up. He grabbed her phone. She got it back and called her friend again. Her friend knew to stay on the phone with her but also to get someone else to call 911.
As they came up behind Bogart’s in Waynesville, she screamed loudly enough that a man heard her. She wondered if she should just jump from the car. She knew, when he didn’t turn right toward the courthouse, that she was dead.
She asked him, “Why are we going toward Sylva?” hoping her friend would hear her. She feared he would kill the responding cops. If he went across Balsam Mountain, she believed he would kill her. He was holding her hostage.
She convinced him that she was going to be sick and told him to stop at a rest area. When he stopped, she bolted and ran to the bathroom.
She had chosen a code word to use with her kids if she needed them to call law enforcement. That code word was strawberries. She called her daughter and said, “I need some strawberries.”
Her daughter told her to go into a stall and call 911. Soon, law enforcement arrived.
He took off and, following a brief standoff, was arrested and charged with multiple serious felonies.
When he went to trial, she predicted what he would do. She said he would testify. He did. She said he would make a weapon and try to hurt someone. He made a sharp instrument out of two golf pencils and tried to bring it into the courtroom.
He was found guilty of all charges and sentenced to a long prison term. She was finally free.
That was a number of years ago. She says, “I’ve laid that stuff to rest now.”
As soon as the trial ended, she went home and painted her toenails a lovely shade of lavender. She was free.
This is the joy of advocacy. We get to see women and children (and occasionally men) manage to get free and start to see themselves how we see them: as strong and capable survivors.
(Kit Gruelle, IS Advocate at REACH of Haywood County.)
