Big Hero Mode
Root 30 - Trying again and again to save someone (who wouldn't save herself).
Previously, I talked about meeting this friend, and saving her from her abusive brother. Here’s the continuation of that story.
At some point, my friend started to open up to me about her relationship. She started off by saying vague things like, he wasn’t always the nicest to her. Then she got into more specifics. One time he pinched her leg, and when she cried out and acted hurt, he said, “What? At least I didn’t smash your head in the car door.”
“That’s not okay,” I said, and, “For him to say at least he didn’t do that, means he was considering doing it.”
I begged her to break up with him. Begged her to do it over text. Said yes, under normal circumstances it was a shitty thing to do, but it was absolutely okay given that there was a danger to her safety with him. She kept saying she couldn’t break up with him. Kept saying that when they snuggled, she really liked being with him. I told her that was saying she liked him for having a warm body. I told her everyone has a warm body.
I started to Google things like “how to convince friend to leave abusive boyfriend.” The results were not as conclusive and helpful as I would have liked. One thing that was stressed a lot was to emphasize the importance of breaking up in a public space, if the friend couldn’t be convinced to do so remotely. When my friend said she was going to leave him, that she couldn’t stay with him any more, I told her again to just text him. When she said no, she had to do it in person, I told her to meet him at Starbucks. Begged her to only do it if it was in public.
She went to his apartment.
I should say she went to his mom’s apartment, which is where he lived. Looking back, my impression of his mom is that she is also a weak people-pleaser. A victim. That she didn’t know what to do about her son any more than my friend’s mom did about hers. My understanding is that, on this occasion, the mom was somewhere else. It was just my friend and her boyfriend there.
Hours after she left, I got a text from my friend saying she was trapped in the bathroom, and she didn’t know what to do.
I called her. What did she mean? She whispered that she didn’t know how long she had before he came back, but he’d been really angry with her for trying to break up with him and she was scared. I told her to lock the bathroom door, but she said she didn’t want to make him mad. I told her to text me where she was, and we hung up.
I called the police, and told them what she’d told me. Told them where she was. No, I didn’t know if he had a weapon. But yes, he was holding my friend against her will.
I drove to the address. I managed to get there around the same time as the police, as there was some confusion about the address. I watched from a distance as two officers approached the door and knocked.
The boyfriend only opened the door halfway. One of the officers spoke, and the boyfriend tried to slam the door shut. The officer stuck his foot out and caught the door, then the two of them shoved at once, and knocked it open. I heard a woman’s scream from within. My friend’s scream. My blood ran cold as I worried about possible misfires of weapons, and my friend getting caught in the altercation. But then an officer escorted her out of the apartment.
Her hair was wet through. It turned out that after I’d gotten off the phone with her, her boyfriend had decided they should shower together.
It was afterward that I heard the whole story. How she’d told him she didn’t want to be with him. How he’d held her down in the bathtub, looming over her, calling her all kinds of names and telling her what a POS she was. How he’d talked her around in circles until she’d agreed to stay with him. Only then had he left long enough for her to contact me.
The police took her statement. The whole time she expressed concern over what would happen to her boyfriend now. Worry that she shouldn’t have left him, and shouldn’t have gotten him in trouble. The officers got weird looks on their faces, which I would interpret as a mix of incredulity and “listen to me” earnestness. They told her that he absolutely, without a doubt, met the definition of an abuser. They told her that abusers tended to escalate. They told her that he seemed to have escalated quickly, and that at that pace, her life would have soon been in danger. They urged her to let this be an end to their relationship. They cautioned that if she got back together with him, it would lead to nothing but trouble.
I listened to their speeches and found them impressive. I couldn’t imagine how anyone would go against their counsel. But I did not at that time understand how hard it is for a victim to leave their abuser. I couldn’t comprehend how deep in denial a person could be about the nature of their partner. How much a person could lie to themselves.
I thought I had accomplished my goal. Thought I’d protected my friend, again, this time for good. I was a hero.