HOW did that BASTARD find me?WHO is this guy he hired to kill me? SCREAMED Nylah's consciousness when the chauffer who drove her to the safe house tipped his hat and addressed her as Miss Nylah. After a brief pause to weigh her options she resorted to shrieking, "THIS is the man who ATTACKED ME!" She pointed and screaming wordlessly until people came running, then "ARREST him! KILL him!"

The poor guy was nearly in tears as big women pulled them in opposite directions. "Ohmygodohmygod NOOOO! MISS! NYLAH! It's me Tim the bus driver from church. I'msorryI'msorry! You don't remember me! It was a long time ago."

"I don't care who you are I'll kill you myself! That bastard came close enough to killing me I'm justified to eliminate his goons!"

"GET them off the property!" came an amplified male voice from a guard carrying pepper spray cocked and ready. The next few seconds were a blur until Nylah found herself outside the fence surrounded by women. "It sounds like he may just know you from before. Coincidence, like? Maybe you should hear him out...? He already recognized you and he's being searched for weapons so he can't hurt you. If your abuser sent him maybe he'll confess and we'll have him arrested. You can't go on like this. You have to let others help you." The woman in charge was playing her roll with firm gentleness.

"Oh yeah some 'help.' Hiring a murderer to drive us here. STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPID!" There would be no reasoning with Nylah. "Can you hide me, at least, until he's gone and then I'll walk out of here and live on the street where I'll be a lot safer?"

"Nylah! This man has driven female social workers and community partners here for two years. He has been thoroughly checked out. If he drove for Stephan's church it was through a reputable shuttle-bus company called Winged Wheels and he was there seven years. If you refuse to talk to him with two women present, we will have to rehospitalize you. We had reservations about accepting you because your PTSD hadn't been fully assessed but there was an opening."

"All right," Nylah assented grudgingly. She let herself be led to a conference room where a contrite Tim was waiting to apologize once again and explain his intention of only being an encouragement. Miss Nylah, I had no idea Stephan hurt you. And I am so very sorry it was. I have been taught enough about this wonderful place to know what most of the women here have been through. It sickens me. I applied to this nonprofit because my wife is on the Board of Directors and she has given me an intense education about why males need to get involved in stopping domestic violence by any possible means. I don't attend Glory to God any more but she still does. That's how I know he divorced you because he thinks you were intending to cheat on him and believe you are irredeemably tainted by guilt."

Nylah began to laugh hysterically. Until she began to weep unrestrained. "I believe you, Tim, and I remember you. Tour hair was brown and there was more of it and you didn't have the moustache..."

Nylah was housed overnight at the emergency overflow motel while it was determined by residents of the safe house how much trauma her outburst had caused. Her admission had to be voted on and was allowed by only a small margin. She had a lot of work to do to prove herself stable and able to be helped. One thing that helped was her undamaged self-esteem; she never believed she deserved Stephan's outbursts of rage, knowing it was HIS issues that caused them rather than anything she did wrong.

She did have a lot in common with the others at the safe house though, even the one who had not been allowed to MOVE a single muscle when her oppressor summoned her for a snarled lecture---not raise an arm or cross her legs, not a muscle. All the women there seemed to need to relearn when it was okay to speak---just about any time another was not speaking, sleeping, or perhaps deep in thought. And most had repressed parts of their personality for reasons as different as the women themselves. Nylah has no more "Pet peeves" than the next person but she choked up when asked to reveal them in a lighthearted group meeting because it reminded her of one of the few good times she had with Stephan. Pain overwhelmed her when she remembered their silly competition to spot abandoned businesses that hadn't removed their signs. "There's one!" shouted in perfect unison as they sat at a red light led to his pulling her as close as the seat belt allowed and managing to stretch to kiss her passionately.

Her Journey Back to Nylah is still underway; it seems long at times. Sometimes it seems easier than the paths of those she now works hard to help escape sadistic abuse. But having learned that she is never without available support, she is reaching back tirelessly working to help others escape unrelenting horror. If you want to help her, find a shelter and ask how you can help. Useful skills are surprisingly varied. One effort being made is to have 25% of shelters pet-friendly by 2025 because there is a Significant number of women staying in agony just because they are trying to keep pets from harm by their Opressors. (author's word, not always used to describe the horror.)