Shattered Safety

Podcast version:

I was sitting beside her as we were celebrating her birthday, I picked the place, I think. I picked her up for our night of fun and as we drove east we chatted it up, and when we pulled into the parking garage, I didn’t even pay attention to where we parked, and as it turned out finding the car that night only served to intensify the stress of the terrifying events that would unfold.

My own trauma was almost always related to alcohol but I have never had the conviction that it is Biblically wrong when used appropriately, though generally not my thing, I was proud of my drink ordering skills when we arrived at our destination. I ordered us both an apple martini. The size of the opening in the martini glass and the green hue of the drink made it easy for evil to derail not only the night, but the rest of her life.

She grinned playfully, yet competitively as we sat down to compete in a game, and that is when two men flanked us. Neither of them seemed like a threat, both good looking and “in from out of town”, she sat on the end where she could put her drink down to play the game. He slipped behind her, and then beside her as he continued to chat. I was talking to the other dude and was watching her beat me in the game, but I didn’t care, we were having fun. It seemed like the birthday celebration was going off without a hitch until I looked over at her blank, dim and closing eyes, I knew something was horribly wrong. The guys disappeared and my blood ran cold.

She stared at me like she knew who I was but could not speak. I knew she had not had enough to drink to be so out of it and I knew I needed to get her out of there. She couldn’t string words together, but as I slung her arm around me to help her walk all she kept saying was “north, go north”—and that is how I found the car but not before I had to leave her by the elevators because her legs would not work.

I got her home and chalked the whole thing up to too much alcohol even though I had seen nothing to indicate that. My own trauma forced me out of her door and on my way home as fast as possible. I wish I would have stayed just 30 more minutes…..

Click here, for the rest of the story, or here.

OR return to the blog tomorrow for part 2 of the blog!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s