Close Call

“Hi, you must be John?” I extend my hand with a smile, and he reaches out to grab it and return the handshake.

              “Yes, and you must be Allison. Your pictures truly do you no justice.”

              I blush, slightly uncomfortable but flattered all the same.

              “Well thank you, filters can be a lifesaver, that’s for sure!” I replied.

              “Nonsense, you are far more lovely in person,” he said. Man, he really was oozing charm right now. How is this man still single and on a dating app no less?

              I sit down and he sits in the chair straight across from me. The waitress stops by to take our drink orders; a glass of white wine for me, a glass of Scotch for him and she leaves the breadbasket on the table. It smells heavenly.

              I reach out to grab one of the soft rolls, and I see him scowl slightly. As I reach for the butter, he says, “Are you sure you want to have that many carbs before your meal? You’ll need to order the salad I suppose.”

              I stare at him, speechless for a second before I cut into the roll and start to spread the butter on it. His profile did say he was a personal trainer, he probably does not even realize what he said could be considered offensive.

 “I had a light breakfast and lunch today just so I could splurge on a good dinner tonight,” I said, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He is probably just as nervous as I am and sometimes when I get anxious, my filter malfunctions too.

He gives me another scowl but chooses not to make a further comment. He studies the menu as the waitress walks up with the drinks. I have never been happier to see a glass of wine in my life. I take a large swig of the wine, which is of course delicious, and open my mouth to order my food when I hear my date answer instead.

“She’ll have the chicken salad with strawberry vinaigrette dressing. No croutons. I will have the honey glazed salmon with the jasmine rice and asparagus on the side.”

I am completely shocked but decide not to correct him and cause a scene. I offer the waitress a weak smile, and I detect a faint trace of pity in her eyes as she smiles back at me and asks if that will be all. John of course answers for me and dismisses her. I cannot believe this is happening right now.

He starts to talk. “I take personal health very seriously, and I would expect any partner I have to do the same. That is non-negotiable, I’m afraid.” He smiles at me, and I get a terrible gut feeling. His grin is too wide, his eyes have gotten beady, and he is sweating slightly. This is going south, fast.

“I need to use the restroom quick; I will be right back, “I say, trying to sound cheerful but falling flat. 

He flashes another too-wide grin. My insides freeze; that grin almost makes him look like a hungry wolf. I turn and try my hardest not to sprint to the bathroom and the safety of a stall. Once inside, I pull out my phone and text my best friend Jill.

“OMG; this is an absolute disaster!!! I thought you did a background check on this guy!”

“Oh no, what happened? I had Chad run him through the system and nothing came up.”

“He is dreadful. He has already scolded me twice about the food I am eating, and he is seriously giving me the creeps.”

“I can call you and pretend like you have an emergency.”

“No, this guy will see right through it. Be on standby in case I need you.”

“You know I will. I can have Chad there in a flash. He is patrolling that area tonight.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. Love you.”

“Love you too Allie.”

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              She owes me big time for this. When I matched with John on the dating app Jill insisted I sign up for, she had her boyfriend Chad do a full police background check on him to make sure I wouldn’t end up as a skin lamp in his basement and she had sworn he found nothing. There was something about those eyes though…. I could not put my finger on it, but they made me nervous as hell.

              Here goes nothing. I walk back to the table and plaster a smile on my face. As I sit back down, the waitress arrives with a new round of drinks and our food. She sets my salad down in front of me, and as much as I hate to admit it, it looks delicious. She sets down his salmon and walks away after delivering the drinks.

              I take a bite of the salad and am glad to find that it tastes every bit as good as it looks. At least the meal will be good.

              “This was a good choice, thank you for suggesting it,” I say to him. “I am normally not a salad girl, but this just might have converted me.”

              “It might be high time you become one,” he replies.

              For the second time, I am stunned into silence. I take another bite and choose to make as little eye contact as possible for the rest of the night. I take a large swig out of my wine and take a quick peek at him. I notice that he is staring at me, food on his fork halfway to his mouth with another one of those strange smiles on his face. Why does that smile make me feel like I’m on the menu? I need to get out of here.

              I manage to swallow down the rest of my salad as quickly as I could without looking suspicious. I am almost completely silent, only offering small bits of conversation if necessary. He becomes quite chatty, telling me all about his childhood, his job, his love life. 

              “My last girlfriend looked a lot like you,” he says as I finish up the last bite of my salad. “She had a listening problem too. Always eating foods she shouldn’t, talking to people she shouldn’t. She certainly learned her lesson when we split up.”

              I decide not to pursue that comment any further because I am willing to bet any lesson he is teaching is not something I would be down to learn. I honestly just want to get out of here as quickly as possible.

              “Let’s order dessert,” he says.

              I fake a yawn and stretch slightly. “I actually should be going. I have to work an extra shift tomorrow since one of the girls is going out of town for a funeral.” A bold-faced lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

              I can see the disappointment on his face, but for whatever reason, he decides not to pursue it any further. The waitress sets down the check, and I offer to pay for my meal, but he declines my offer and takes care of the whole thing. I hope he is not expecting anything from me in return.

*************************************************************************************

We leave the restaurant and make our way to the parking lot. Once I reach my car, I turn to him to shake his hand and wish him a good night, but before I have time to turn around completely, he has his hand on my throat and is pushing me against my car.

              “You have had some dreadful manners tonight Allison.  I do not take that lightly. My last girlfriend was a lot like you until I put a permanent stop to that.”

              Oh God. He was going to kill me. My insides turn to ice and my mind goes blank. I start to gasp for air a little, and he loosens his hold on my neck slightly.

              “Oh no, you don’t get to die yet. That would take all the fun out of this for me,” he whispers in my ear. He is pressed up against me now, his hot breath on my neck. I feel sick. I can only hope I go quickly.

              Red and blue lights suddenly fill the dark night. A siren whoops and a loud voice says, “Back away from the girl sir with your hands up or I’ll shoot.”

              He does not let go. He starts to laugh. I can feel goosebumps erupt all over my body at the sound. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

              “Last warning asshole. Let her go, and you’ll live to see the sun rise.”

              Still, he does not release me. I do not understand; what is he playing at? Is he hoping to die?

              A shot rings out, and suddenly I am covered in what I know is blood. I close my eyes and start to scream. I scream until I feel someone put their arms around me and I throw a punch in their general direction, missing completely and sobbing hysterically.

              “Allie, it’s me! It is Chad! I got you, don’t worry you are safe.”

              I put my head on his chest and I feel my knees give out. Jill said he was patrolling this area tonight, didn’t she? Thank God. I hate to imagine what would have happened.

              “Allie, do me a favor and don’t open your eyes until I say okay? I don’t want you to see anything.”

              I nod my head and squeeze my eyes shut tighter. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear an ambulance’s siren wailing, getting louder as it gets closer. A small crowd has started to form; I can hear their murmurs as Chad’s partner works on keeping them back from the crime scene. Chad is holding me still, stroking my back and reassuring me repeatedly that I am safe.

              The ambulance arrives and they help me step up into the back.

              “Okay Allie, you can open your eyes,” Chad says as the doors shut behind us.

              I open my eyes and the bright lights from the ambulance’s interior temporarily blind me. The female EMT wets a rag and starts to wipe my face and neck down, checking for any wounds as she goes. I wince as she pushes a little too hard on my throat.

              “Oh yes, I can see a bruise here,” she says. “Sorry about that sweetheart, I’m sure that hurts.” Her kind face regards me with sympathy, and she grabs my hand.

              “I’m going to go call Jill and fill her in. I’m sure she’ll want to meet you at the hospital,” Chad says as he wraps me into a final hug. “I’m just so glad you’re safe.”

              “Thank you, Chad,” I whisper. My throat feels like it is on fire and my voice sounds like a rusty door hinge.

              “Try not to talk too much,” the EMT says. “He did a good number on your larynx and esophagus. You’re gonna have to take it easy on the talking for a while.”

              I lay back on the gurney and the EMT sits down beside me, still holding my hand. Her name tag identifies her simply as “Johnson” and I make it a point to find out her name from Chad later so I can thank her for her kindness.

************************************************************

              “Allie! It is so good to see you!” Jill calls out from her seat at the restaurant. Beside her sits Chad, who greets me with a warm smile and a big bear hug. Our other friends are here too; all of them with huge smiles on their faces and drinks in their hands.

              Today marks six months since the attack, and I am mostly okay. My neck has healed. My voice is back but I sound gravellier, which Jill insists is sexy.

              “Men will go crazy for it Allie Cat, I promise!”

              Every time she says that I just roll my eyes at her. My interest in men has waned in recent months, as it probably should, so their opinions on my voice nowadays don’t rank high in my book.

              Everyone at the table takes turns giving me hugs and as I sit down, I see some of them are even tearing up. I am truly touched; I have such a great group of friends.  I smile warmly at all of them, choking back my own set of tears.

              Chad stands up and raises his drink. “I think this moment deserves a toast guys. Allie, you have truly been through hell and back these past six months. I thank God every single day that I was patrolling that neighborhood at Jill’s insistence, or this might have ended far worse than it did. We love you Allie, so much more than words could ever say, and we are so thankful you are here with us today. To Allie!”

              Everyone lifted their glasses to me and said, “To Allie!”

              “All of you are just the best. Truly you are. There is no way I would have made it through any of this if it weren’t for you all keeping me going. I don’t know where I would be without your love and encouragement.”

              I have a long way to go. I still have nightmares every night and I cannot go past that restaurant without having a panic attack. Warm showers will sometimes freak me out and I cannot stomach white wine anymore. I see a therapist twice a week and am now on an anxiety medication and an anti-depressant.

              But I am alive. I get to see another day and work hard to move past this. I get to be surrounded by these amazing people I get to call my friends. I am going back to school to earn my own degree in psychology, and I am working with a non-profit aimed at reducing dating violence and violence against women. I cannot let him win. 

              I am a victim of dating violence, but I am also something else. I am a survivor.