Russian Roulette
This was not what I had planned to write about today J., but a friend of mine reminded me of this event in my life. It's definitely one of those things I refused to deal with and I just let it go. It's been floating somewhere in the recesses of my mind for years. Maybe now I can deal with it, or at least acknowledge it for what it is and let it go so I can be free from it.
It's funny that it has come to mind several times in the past month or so. I don't speak of it, because it is something I just don't like to acknowledge. Actually, only a couple people know about this incident.
Years ago, around February/March of 1994, I had met a guy at a bar and we started dating. He really wasn't serious dating material and he was probably very dangerous. I should have listened to my instincts but I didn't. He was kind of fun to be around and I was at a time in my life where I was looking for fun. My ex husband had committed adultery and left me when I was 7 months pregnant and with a 3 year old little girl. After I gave birth to my son, and started divorce proceedings and got back on my feet emotionally (if you can call it "back on my feet"), I decided it was time to meet some people and maybe start dating. I love dancing and the only place to really dance is at a bar. Not the most desirable place to be but there are people and there is music and there is dancing. As a matter of fact, that same bar where I met "psycho" is the same bar I would meet my husband in a few months later. But that is another story.
This guy, I'll call him "Psycho" since I don't remember his name, oh yes I do....it just came to me. His name was Dennis. Probably still is unless he's dead. Anyway, we met and started dating. He was in the military reserves so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Taking him home was never an option as I just didn't do that. I wouldn't expose my children to him in any way. He was just a guy I was dating. He made a comment once that he could kill me and hide my body and it wouldn't be found for months. Especially with all the snow we had at that time. I would be lying if I said that little comment didn't get my attention. It did. But it was said in such a way that I doubted he was serious. That was dumb of me. I should have listened and got the heck out of Dodge right then and there.
He told me that he worked for a loan shark. He was the guy they sent to administer consequences when someone didn't pay. He insinuated that he had even killed people in his line of work. I really wrote that off as a macho statement made to impress me or intimidate me. Until one weekend when he said he went to Kentucky to "collect". He painted a picture of a murder. But, he mentioned that a witness had been left alive. He described things in such detail that I became frightened that he actually had been there and murdered someone. I ran to a newspaper stand (internet was not readily available at this time, at least to me or my office) and grabbed up newspapers for the area he said he was in. I scanned everything. Certainly there would be a story. I didn't take an account of if the body was found and I assumed from what he said that the witness (a woman) might actually be dead or maybe might not say a thing. After all I didn't know her role in all this. I found nothing. I quit looking. I didn't think about the possibility that the body might not be found for a while. But I also was afraid to know. I knew that if I found evidence that this story was true, I'd have to report what I knew to the police. I was scared.
He landed in jail for something. I don't remember what. He wanted me to bail him out. I should have said no but I was scared that if I didn't, he would do something to harm me or my children. I did. He said he would repay me. I should have said don't worry about it. But I needed that money. I didn't have alot of money just lying around. I didn't hear from him for a while. I felt relieved. I wanted my money but I didn't want to see him anymore. A few weeks later he says he has it. Well, I met up with him and he didn't. Then he calls one day and wants to see me. He's sick and living at his parents' house in the city. Would I come and see him?
So I took the day off work and drove over to see him. I would regret that decision for the rest of my life but I took away alot of lessons about people that day. And I learned to pay attention to my natural gut instincts. I am grateful to God for getting me through this. He was there that day.
For the most part, we hung out, watched television and I went and got us some food. He wasn't feeling real well. Then he decided he wanted to show me something. I noted that it was getting late in the day. The sitter was waiting for me to come and get the kids. I longed to leave. I told him I had to get going and he said no...he just wanted to show me something really quick. It'd just take a minute. He went into another room and I followed. I don't recall now if it was an office of some type or a bedroom or a spare room but it had a desk. And in that desk, in a drawer was a pistol. He pulled it out. I'm not afraid of guns, and my dad collects them. I was shooting handguns and rifles by the time I was five years old. I knew about gun safety and right away I sensed that he didn't care much for that. At least not when it came to others' safety.
He started talking about stuff about the gun and times he'd used it and told me about a time when played Russian Roulette with a group of guys. I don't remember the story now. It's been a long time and I remember that I was starting to stress. Not only did I wonder where he was going with this, but I needed to leave. My sitter was an awesome sitter and I wanted to make sure I treated her nice. I couldn't afford to lose her.
Then he asked me if I had ever played russian roulette. That was an easy answer. Of course not. And I wasn't about to play. That was a senseless game and it was dangerous. My father had always taught me that I was to assume that EVERY gun was loaded, whether I thought it was or not. I heeded that piece of knowledge as I'd seen an "empty" gun accidentally go off twice in our own house.
About this point, he started playing with the ammo. He put in a bullet and spun the thing (can't think of the name now). Then he clicked the trigger. Good Lord! What is this man, crazy?!?!? At that point, I said, "Gotta go....the sitter's waiting." And I made my way to the door. I was just about there when he pointed the gun at me. I froze. At this point, I was desperately hoping and praying that this crazy lunatic was joking (which, at times, it sounded like he was), but the other half of me screamed that I needed to be careful how I proceeded. There was a bullet in this gun and I didn't know where it was in relation to the firing pin. The next click of the trigger might be the one that hit that bullet. And since the gun was aimed at my head, then I figured that I had better make sure I attempt to make sure that it not get "clicked".
Psycho asked me if I was afraid. How in the would do I answer that? I replied that he had a gun pointed at me and that I didn't like it. I asked him to put it down. I needed to go. (Of course I was afraid....he was holding a gun pointed at MY HEAD--I certainly wasn't thinking this was a GOOD TIME)
I don't remember all he said to me. The fact that the gun pointed at me sort of took priority over making conversation with this psychotic freak. I remember thinking about my kids. The sitter. My kids. My father. My family. Everything passed through me. I wanted desperately to start this day over. I would go to work, and I wouldn't see him at all. Then I would be on my home, safe and sound, to get my kids and none of this would have happened.
I told him I really needed him to stop messing with me because I needed to go. The kids were waiting. It was at this point that he decided he wanted to keep me a little longer and he led me to the phone where he told me to call the sitter and tell her I'd be late (that was a good sign.....that I'd be late....that implied I would remain alive---at the moment anyway).
Somehow we ended up back at the front door. I remember being backed up against the door and he was holding the gun to my heat. I don't remember how it occurred but he was holding me like a hostage. The gun touching my head. I'll never forget that feeling in my entire life. The hard feel of the metal was unlike any feeling in the world. Knowing a bullet could end my life right then and there was surreal. I felt my heart racing. This was insane! How in the world did I get myself into this situation? How would I get out? Would I get out? I screamed at God to help me in my mind. I was petrified. But I had to do something. I had to be calm and use my brains to get out of this.
He held me for what seemed like forever. I don't remember what he said but I remember he talked to me and I answered. I remember thinking carefully about everything I was going to say. I just don't remember what we said. I remember when it finally came to an end. He started asking me if I was mad at him? I acted like I didn't know what he was talking about. Why would I be mad? (thinking to myself, I was saying, Just because you were holding a gun to my head and threatening my life? Why would I be mad?)
I assured him I was not mad. Really. I wasn't. He asked me if I would come back to see him. I told him of course I would. (that was a lie, Sorry Father, but I felt it was necessary) He suggested that I leave. (not a problem there Psycho) I agreed. I told him he needed to get some rest so he felt better the next day. (figured it couldn't hurt to play the concerned "girlfriend")
When we made it outside, I was filled with relief...I felt now that I was safer since there was there potential for many witnesses to see what might happen.
Several times in the next few moments (they seemed like a lifetime), he repeatedly asked me if I was angry and I repeatedly told him I was not. (Sorry Father God, I lied again)
Finally, I was in my car and backing out of the drive. I burst into tears. Both from the release of the stress and thankfulness that I was alive and out of there. I drove to the sitter's house and picked up my babies, grateful to lay eyes on them and feel their arms around my neck. I went home and fed my babies and we just enjoyed our time together. After they were in bed, I relived the nightmare. I was horrified. What should I do?
Well, I can say I did nothing. I was afraid. I felt lucky to have gotten away from him. I decided right then and there that I would never initiate contact with him again and if he called, I wouldn't speak to him. He called. I let the machine pick up. Seems a girl he was dating suddenly upped and dumped him, claiming him to be some sort of psycho. Apparently he thought I fed information to her. I was pretty positive that he did that one on his own. I didn't call back. I just ignored the call. Thankfully, he didn't call back and I've never heard from him again.
I worried about my decisions. What if he really did kill someone in Kentucky? I had a responsibility to say something. But I still felt it was a wild tale. After all I'd been through. I kept quiet. About everything. And today I find myself back there. Back in the nightmare. So relieved he's out of my life and so relieved I'm safe. I'm so thankful to the Lord for keeping me safe that day. I'm so glad that He had plans for me.
There. It's out. It's done. I learned alot that day. I won't ever forget it. That is for sure.
It's funny that it has come to mind several times in the past month or so. I don't speak of it, because it is something I just don't like to acknowledge. Actually, only a couple people know about this incident.
Years ago, around February/March of 1994, I had met a guy at a bar and we started dating. He really wasn't serious dating material and he was probably very dangerous. I should have listened to my instincts but I didn't. He was kind of fun to be around and I was at a time in my life where I was looking for fun. My ex husband had committed adultery and left me when I was 7 months pregnant and with a 3 year old little girl. After I gave birth to my son, and started divorce proceedings and got back on my feet emotionally (if you can call it "back on my feet"), I decided it was time to meet some people and maybe start dating. I love dancing and the only place to really dance is at a bar. Not the most desirable place to be but there are people and there is music and there is dancing. As a matter of fact, that same bar where I met "psycho" is the same bar I would meet my husband in a few months later. But that is another story.
This guy, I'll call him "Psycho" since I don't remember his name, oh yes I do....it just came to me. His name was Dennis. Probably still is unless he's dead. Anyway, we met and started dating. He was in the military reserves so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. Taking him home was never an option as I just didn't do that. I wouldn't expose my children to him in any way. He was just a guy I was dating. He made a comment once that he could kill me and hide my body and it wouldn't be found for months. Especially with all the snow we had at that time. I would be lying if I said that little comment didn't get my attention. It did. But it was said in such a way that I doubted he was serious. That was dumb of me. I should have listened and got the heck out of Dodge right then and there.
He told me that he worked for a loan shark. He was the guy they sent to administer consequences when someone didn't pay. He insinuated that he had even killed people in his line of work. I really wrote that off as a macho statement made to impress me or intimidate me. Until one weekend when he said he went to Kentucky to "collect". He painted a picture of a murder. But, he mentioned that a witness had been left alive. He described things in such detail that I became frightened that he actually had been there and murdered someone. I ran to a newspaper stand (internet was not readily available at this time, at least to me or my office) and grabbed up newspapers for the area he said he was in. I scanned everything. Certainly there would be a story. I didn't take an account of if the body was found and I assumed from what he said that the witness (a woman) might actually be dead or maybe might not say a thing. After all I didn't know her role in all this. I found nothing. I quit looking. I didn't think about the possibility that the body might not be found for a while. But I also was afraid to know. I knew that if I found evidence that this story was true, I'd have to report what I knew to the police. I was scared.
He landed in jail for something. I don't remember what. He wanted me to bail him out. I should have said no but I was scared that if I didn't, he would do something to harm me or my children. I did. He said he would repay me. I should have said don't worry about it. But I needed that money. I didn't have alot of money just lying around. I didn't hear from him for a while. I felt relieved. I wanted my money but I didn't want to see him anymore. A few weeks later he says he has it. Well, I met up with him and he didn't. Then he calls one day and wants to see me. He's sick and living at his parents' house in the city. Would I come and see him?
So I took the day off work and drove over to see him. I would regret that decision for the rest of my life but I took away alot of lessons about people that day. And I learned to pay attention to my natural gut instincts. I am grateful to God for getting me through this. He was there that day.
For the most part, we hung out, watched television and I went and got us some food. He wasn't feeling real well. Then he decided he wanted to show me something. I noted that it was getting late in the day. The sitter was waiting for me to come and get the kids. I longed to leave. I told him I had to get going and he said no...he just wanted to show me something really quick. It'd just take a minute. He went into another room and I followed. I don't recall now if it was an office of some type or a bedroom or a spare room but it had a desk. And in that desk, in a drawer was a pistol. He pulled it out. I'm not afraid of guns, and my dad collects them. I was shooting handguns and rifles by the time I was five years old. I knew about gun safety and right away I sensed that he didn't care much for that. At least not when it came to others' safety.
He started talking about stuff about the gun and times he'd used it and told me about a time when played Russian Roulette with a group of guys. I don't remember the story now. It's been a long time and I remember that I was starting to stress. Not only did I wonder where he was going with this, but I needed to leave. My sitter was an awesome sitter and I wanted to make sure I treated her nice. I couldn't afford to lose her.
Then he asked me if I had ever played russian roulette. That was an easy answer. Of course not. And I wasn't about to play. That was a senseless game and it was dangerous. My father had always taught me that I was to assume that EVERY gun was loaded, whether I thought it was or not. I heeded that piece of knowledge as I'd seen an "empty" gun accidentally go off twice in our own house.
About this point, he started playing with the ammo. He put in a bullet and spun the thing (can't think of the name now). Then he clicked the trigger. Good Lord! What is this man, crazy?!?!? At that point, I said, "Gotta go....the sitter's waiting." And I made my way to the door. I was just about there when he pointed the gun at me. I froze. At this point, I was desperately hoping and praying that this crazy lunatic was joking (which, at times, it sounded like he was), but the other half of me screamed that I needed to be careful how I proceeded. There was a bullet in this gun and I didn't know where it was in relation to the firing pin. The next click of the trigger might be the one that hit that bullet. And since the gun was aimed at my head, then I figured that I had better make sure I attempt to make sure that it not get "clicked".
Psycho asked me if I was afraid. How in the would do I answer that? I replied that he had a gun pointed at me and that I didn't like it. I asked him to put it down. I needed to go. (Of course I was afraid....he was holding a gun pointed at MY HEAD--I certainly wasn't thinking this was a GOOD TIME)
I don't remember all he said to me. The fact that the gun pointed at me sort of took priority over making conversation with this psychotic freak. I remember thinking about my kids. The sitter. My kids. My father. My family. Everything passed through me. I wanted desperately to start this day over. I would go to work, and I wouldn't see him at all. Then I would be on my home, safe and sound, to get my kids and none of this would have happened.
I told him I really needed him to stop messing with me because I needed to go. The kids were waiting. It was at this point that he decided he wanted to keep me a little longer and he led me to the phone where he told me to call the sitter and tell her I'd be late (that was a good sign.....that I'd be late....that implied I would remain alive---at the moment anyway).
Somehow we ended up back at the front door. I remember being backed up against the door and he was holding the gun to my heat. I don't remember how it occurred but he was holding me like a hostage. The gun touching my head. I'll never forget that feeling in my entire life. The hard feel of the metal was unlike any feeling in the world. Knowing a bullet could end my life right then and there was surreal. I felt my heart racing. This was insane! How in the world did I get myself into this situation? How would I get out? Would I get out? I screamed at God to help me in my mind. I was petrified. But I had to do something. I had to be calm and use my brains to get out of this.
He held me for what seemed like forever. I don't remember what he said but I remember he talked to me and I answered. I remember thinking carefully about everything I was going to say. I just don't remember what we said. I remember when it finally came to an end. He started asking me if I was mad at him? I acted like I didn't know what he was talking about. Why would I be mad? (thinking to myself, I was saying, Just because you were holding a gun to my head and threatening my life? Why would I be mad?)
I assured him I was not mad. Really. I wasn't. He asked me if I would come back to see him. I told him of course I would. (that was a lie, Sorry Father, but I felt it was necessary) He suggested that I leave. (not a problem there Psycho) I agreed. I told him he needed to get some rest so he felt better the next day. (figured it couldn't hurt to play the concerned "girlfriend")
When we made it outside, I was filled with relief...I felt now that I was safer since there was there potential for many witnesses to see what might happen.
Several times in the next few moments (they seemed like a lifetime), he repeatedly asked me if I was angry and I repeatedly told him I was not. (Sorry Father God, I lied again)
Finally, I was in my car and backing out of the drive. I burst into tears. Both from the release of the stress and thankfulness that I was alive and out of there. I drove to the sitter's house and picked up my babies, grateful to lay eyes on them and feel their arms around my neck. I went home and fed my babies and we just enjoyed our time together. After they were in bed, I relived the nightmare. I was horrified. What should I do?
Well, I can say I did nothing. I was afraid. I felt lucky to have gotten away from him. I decided right then and there that I would never initiate contact with him again and if he called, I wouldn't speak to him. He called. I let the machine pick up. Seems a girl he was dating suddenly upped and dumped him, claiming him to be some sort of psycho. Apparently he thought I fed information to her. I was pretty positive that he did that one on his own. I didn't call back. I just ignored the call. Thankfully, he didn't call back and I've never heard from him again.
I worried about my decisions. What if he really did kill someone in Kentucky? I had a responsibility to say something. But I still felt it was a wild tale. After all I'd been through. I kept quiet. About everything. And today I find myself back there. Back in the nightmare. So relieved he's out of my life and so relieved I'm safe. I'm so thankful to the Lord for keeping me safe that day. I'm so glad that He had plans for me.
There. It's out. It's done. I learned alot that day. I won't ever forget it. That is for sure.
posted by Unknown | 8:08 AM
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