Seeking Safety
They drove down dark streets, cutting into alleys at the first sight of approaching headlights.
The woman huddled in the corner, ducking low enough she couldn’t be seen by anyone not looking directly into the window.
“Not much further,” the driver assured her.
She looked into the back seat at her sleeping children. “Just please hurry,” she whimpered. “He’ll be home soon and when he finds out I’m gone, I know he’ll come looking for us.”
The driver nodded in reassurance. “I know it’s hard for you to believe now, but things are going to work out. We have people who will help you. You are very brave.”
“I don’t feel brave,” the other woman sniffled into her coat. “I just want my girls to grow up happy, without being afraid all the time.”
The driver slid a box of tissues over. She always kept tissues for the women, stuffed animals for the children, and a bag of snacks for both. Trips like these were mostly made in the wee hours of the morning, and the people she transported to the Safe House were often distraught, frightened and hungry.
Her boundaries were simple: no names. She never gave her own, nor asked for the names of those she drove. Her part in the drama ended when she pulled through the wrought iron gates and someone took her charges from her car.
Confidentiality was key – safety paramount. Domestic violence was rampant in her community and she was but a cog in the wheel of its antithesis.
“Here we are,” she said as she turned the last corner. “Someone will come to take you into the house. Be well.”
The woman touched her children gently to wake them, and then turned to go into the house. Her scarf slid down and the driver winced as she pulled it back up to cover her ravaged face.
The driver grabbed for the tissues as she pulled away. This was right. This was good. She had helped.
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The editors at Trifecta have challenged us again with the word SAFE. The above are 333 of my words on the subject.
Every 9 seconds a woman is abused by her intimate partner.
Do you know someone who is being abused? Are you someone who has suffered abuse? There is help. YOU can help.
Anonymous and
Confidential Help 24/7:
1.800.799.SAFE (7233)
1.800.787.3224 (TTY)
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written for and in memory of my Mom and the thousands of women like her.
Posted: February 13th, 2012 under Moose Nuggets, trifecta.
Comments: 13
Comments
Comment from Rachel
Time: February 14, 2012, 8:42 am
You captured the fear of the victims and the compassion of the driver wonderfully in this piece. I am so glad you put the information on the bottom this may be the help someone needs gets out of a bad situation.
Comment from Dana
Time: February 14, 2012, 9:13 am
Such a heartbreaking topic but so beautifully written.
Comment from kelly garriott waite
Time: February 14, 2012, 8:15 pm
Lovely. The ending grab for the tissues was beautiful
Comment from thepsychobabble
Time: February 15, 2012, 9:41 am
lovely, indeed! Thank you for including the info at the bottom, too.
Comment from The Mommy Patient
Time: February 15, 2012, 11:22 am
Wow. This was very touching. I feel hope for the passengers. The driver is a hero.
Comment from booguloo
Time: February 15, 2012, 4:30 pm
Horrible subject written beautifully.
Comment from Mel
Time: February 15, 2012, 7:14 pm
I winced when her scarf fell, too. You connect with the driver, the woman, and the children. Beautifully done.
Comment from megan
Time: February 15, 2012, 11:39 pm
Thank goodness for people like the driver.
Comment from Trifecta
Time: February 16, 2012, 4:45 am
Wow, Barbara. Thanks for giving us this heartfelt, emotional piece. And especially thank you for the information at the bottom. Perhaps it can help someone get out of a similar situation. I like your choice of perspective here. I wouldn’t have thought to take it from that angle. Hope you come back again for the weekend prompt.
Comment from jessie powell
Time: February 16, 2012, 10:08 am
That conclusion is so rich. This was right. This was good. She had helped.
Comment from Latitudes of a Day
Time: February 16, 2012, 5:45 pm
I like that you used the POV of an outsider instead of the victim. This maintains a sense of confidentiality and dignity. Wow, every 9 seconds is a startling frequency.
Comment from Susan
Time: February 16, 2012, 6:37 pm
Wonderful essay/story on such a horrible situation! I felt I was there in the car with them. Well done.
Comment from Tara R.
Time: February 14, 2012, 6:00 am
This left me in tears. The emotions and fear of this victim are palpable.