RDVCC
Joline's Story
In August of 2007, there was a knock at my door. I peeked through the blinds and saw two sharply-dressed men. They announced themselves as detectives from the Domestic Violence Unit at my local Police Department. A wave of fear went through my body, but I opened the door, anyway. They were there because of the dozens of calls they received from neighbors.
The fights had been getting louder and more frequent. Until that moment, I had no idea I was a domestic violence victim. I told them a little of what was going on in my home, and I insisted it stay “off the record”. I knew that if my boyfriend found out I had spoken with them there would be another fight, and I would be at the losing end. Maybe another small bruise where no one could see it. Or maybe I would be at the hospital again with another broken rib.
I asked them to leave before he got home from work. However, they were persistent in asking me to leave before he got home from work.
So I left. When I was sure they were gone I returned home. Back to my private hell. My prison.
Over the next few months I decided to investigate this thing called Domestic Violence. I learned that there was help. There was somewhere safe for me. I tucked this information in my brain until I knew it was safe to leave.
January 1, 2008. Our last fight. The police were called. He was being handcuffed. I was frozen with fear, because I knew he would get out on bail and come home to kill me. I waited up all night. I waited every night for a week. Could it be, is this real? Am I safe? Yes, finally, I am safe. Now what? I remembered the info I tucked away in my brain. I called those sharply-dressed men from the Domestic Violence Unit. This time when they knocked on my door, I was not afraid. They pointed me in the direction of a local shelter for battered women. They also suggested I meet with the female domestic violence advocate at the Police Department. The support I received was overwhelming. Not only did they assist me with legal advice on how to help the prosecutor keep this abuser in jail, they also helped relocate me to a domestic violence home for women.
So, here I am. Safe, in a loving, supportive home for women. Here I am, rebuilding my life and acquiring the tools I need to start over. Here I am, no longer a victim. I am a survivor of domestic violence.
Thank you to all who played such important roles to help me come this far.
