Escape from the Pokie

    I love the color periwinkle blue; it always reminded me of my grandma, who loved anything of that color. She had flowers in her garden, knick-knacks, clothes, etc. I lost her four years ago, but one thing I will always cherish was her periwinkle blue antique vase, which she told me was a special vase that grants wishes. I tested her once when I was six, wanting a special doll. When I didn’t immediately get it, I told her the vase didn’t work. The look on her face still haunts me, it’s like I wrecked her dreams. I never told her anything like that again, but a couple of months later, I got my doll. Therefore, in my young mind it actually worked, just not exactly when you wanted it to. When she passed, I inherited that vase, and it’s never failed me.

    One night in early October my best friend Paula, invited me out to a charity event for her work. I normally avoid these events, and give her a check instead, but she kept insisting and even said we’d go dress shopping and she’d foot the bill. I figured if she was paying it must be important to her since often when we went out, I paid. My job was good, I was secretary to the president of the company, but I wasn’t overly rich.

    On the night of the event, I put on light make-up, blew my long hair straight, and put on my royal blue floor length gown. I added silver heels and a satin silver\blue clutch, and I was ready to roll. My cell phone beeped, and the message informed me my carriage was waiting. I stepped out into the cool, brisk night, and Paula had rented a town car, driver and all. I laughed when he opened the door, and slid in next to my friend. “Going a bit overboard, are we?” I giggled. She pretended to be offended. “My darling, I always aim for the best.” I answered back in the context of having known her for ten years. “Then your aim needs work.” We both laughed at that.

    It was a short ride to the event, so we didn’t have much time to chit-chat. The venue was a ballroom in one of the fancy hotels in town. It looked beautiful, with white tablecloths, a floating candle at each table, and flowers everywhere. There was classical music playing, and while I was looking around, I spotted him. He was tall, with black hair slicked back, full lips, and he filled out his white tuxedo quite nicely. I hadn’t been in any type of relationship for six months, so I guess you could say I was thirsty. Turns out, he was thirsty too, because he grabbed two glasses of champagne and headed my way.

    His voice was warm and husky when he offered me the glass. Now, at this point we were so into one another that I don’t even remember who the charity was for. I just know that an hour in, I went to find Paula and told her that Max and I were going somewhere quieter. She rolled her eyes, and made me promise to text her when I got home. In the middle of the night, I did text her, but it simply said “I’m okay.” Max and I spent an incredible night together, laughing and talking like we’d known one another for years. We grabbed a bottle of wine and a fruit and cheese tray, and decided to go to his condo and stream a movie.

    We put on the movie, had a few bites of food and some wine, and then he gently cupped my face and kissed me. People say that when a kiss is good you see fireworks. I saw the fourth of July. He suddenly scooped me up in his strong arms, and carried me to his king bed, lowering me down while still kissing me. Then he unzipped my dress, kissed my shoulders, and trailed down to my happy spot. I screamed his name, and he undressed and joined me for the finale. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.

    The next morning, luckily a Saturday, he brought me breakfast in bed. Love at first sight is no joke, I’m telling you. I fell…hard. We spent the day together, playing mini-golf, took in an art museum, and jumped on a mini cruise on the river. He wanted to take me to dinner, but I had no clothes with me. He took me shopping and bought me three outfits, complete with lingerie and shoes. I was definitely falling in love. I discovered he was owner of two donut shops in town, and was planning on opening a third. Sweet! I loved donuts. We had a wonderful dinner, an even better dessert, and sometime, somehow, in the middle of the night I agreed to move in with him.

    Paula hit the roof when I told her! “You cannot move in with a man you’ve known for a week! It’s insanity! Haven’t we watched those documentaries together where the man kills the woman?! Have they not taught you anything? How much do you know about him?” I calmly informed her that we’ve talked more in that week then I’ve talked to numerous men in other relationships, and I knew what I was doing. She slammed the door when she left, which I hated, but I loved Max and wanted to be with him.

    We spent the following Saturday moving me in, and that night had our first home cooked meal together. We made spaghetti and garlic bread, and I didn’t put a lot of garlic on because I liked mine light, but apparently, he preferred it heavier. He smiled at me, and told me his mom made it a bit better because she used a heavier hand with the garlic. I said “oh well, whatcha gonna do?” Because when there’s a minor disagreement in my family, that’s what you say. He reached his pointer finger and thumb under my upper arm, and pinched me. I yelped, and jumped, I was shocked and he said, “pokie, that’s what happens in my family when you make an error.” We sort of laughed it off, but the next morning I had a dark bruise on that spot.

    From living with him, I discovered his dark side. He could be the sweetest, most romantic and loving man, ever. However, if he had a bad day or I did something he didn’t like, he would make the pokie fingers, and I would cringe. It was always on a spot that nobody would notice, or I could cover up with a longer sleeve, or pants. Afterwards, he would give me a massage, or buy me flowers, or jewelry.

    One Thursday, he was tense and grumpy when he arrived home. I tried to be extra attentive, and brought him a drink and started massaging his shoulders, he jerked my wrist off his shoulders so hard we could hear a crack. I started sobbing in pain, and he immediately wrapped it in ice and took me to the hospital. When the Dr took x-rays, he said it was a sprained wrist and put a compression bandage on it, told me to ice it, rest it and take over-the-counter pain meds. And he joked that next time to be careful skating. Max laughed, and said I’ll watch her. I just glared at him, and he said let’s go.

    He never mentioned that he lied to the hospital again. I would like to say that he never hurt me again, but it happened all too often. And because I never spoke up about it, I guess he thought it was alright. One night I casually brought up a conversation about getting my own place. He jumped up, started pacing back and forth, and talking to himself. “I’m a good person. Why doesn’t anyone stay? It can’t happen again! I won’t let it! She cannot leave me! I’ll end her first!” I was beyond terrified. My prince charming turned into a monster. I managed to calm him down, trust me, it took a while. And the next day I started planning my escape.

    That morning, he was happy, and kissed me like he used to. I guess thinking all was well, and although I gave the appearance of that, all most certainly was not well. Paula and I had barely talked since Max and I had moved in together, but I needed her help. I called her, and it rang six times before she answered. “Hello” she said rather frostily. And that’s all it took for me to burst out crying. “Honey, what’s wrong?” I asked if she could meet me at our old favorite coffee shop, and she agreed.

    I sat in a corner booth, and waved her over. She sat down, and didn’t waste any time. “Tell me everything!” I covered everything, starting with the first pokie, down to my wrist, and all the woes in between. “Honey, why didn’t you ever say anything?” I started sniffling, “I don’t know. Those were rough times, and so hurtful and wrong, but he always seemed to make up for it by being overly sweet and attentive.” Paula looked at me “That’s what abusers do. They hurt you, then over compensate. You need to leave him, today! Where is he right now?” I answered, “he’s in meetings until 6. We were going out after he gets home.” “Let’s go move you out, now!”

    We spent the next few hours packing up my meager belongings and taking them to Paula’s place. She told me we’d look for a new job, and apartment for me. I thought that was overkill, but she repeated his rant while pacing to me, and I agreed.

    Over the next few weeks, Max visited my work, my bank, anywhere he thought I may be, with no luck. He even tried contacting Paula through the charity, but nobody would tell him anything. I was free.

    Two months later, I was at my new job in a town two cities over from my last job, when I got off the elevator and literally ran straight into Max. I fell over, and he lifted me up and said “hello baby, want to tell me where you have been?” I just walked away, scared and shocked. My nightmare was back to haunt me again! I went to my office, shaking like a leaf, and called Paula. She told me to run, but I didn’t want to keep running.

    I went to the break room, and he was sitting there, casually, like he belonged there. “Are you following me?” I demanded. “You need to take a chill pill, baby. I’m at work, I sold my businesses’ and now I work here. I’m the chief marketing manager. Maybe we can have lunch together sometime. I’m willing to forgive you for deserting me.” I was ticked! “Forgive me?! I ran, because you abused me!” “Show me proof.” He stated. Then he just got up, walked away, and left me standing there.

    In little ways he started abusing me again, not physically this time, but mentally. He would leave notes on my desk, wishing me a great day. The notes were never signed. One time, I was leaning over to pick up something I had dropped, and he came up behind me and pushed his pelvis against me, and when I almost toppled over, he “saved” me from falling. At least that’s what he said when a co-worker saw us. She just laughed, and said “lucky.”

    Everyone at work loved him, and thought he was the sweetest man. Only I knew the truth, and nobody would believe me if I told them. I thought I would never escape him. Until one night. It was Halloween night, and there was a mandatory costume party. I dressed up like an evil witch, because that was my mood. They had rented a spooky old house, and everyone was having a blast. I wasn’t really in a party mood, so I walked outside in the backyard for some air. All of a sudden, he was grabbing me from behind, trying to pull me into the woods. I fought, tried to scream, but he had his hand covering my mouth. I was desperate, so I bit him hard, I could taste the blood. He stumbled, fell backwards, and I heard a crack and boards breaking as he fell in an abandoned well.

    When the police came, they deemed it an accident and that the fall created injuries that were fatal. No questions were asked, and I lived happily ever after.

    Moral: listen to your friends who love you. They may know something.