By this time, she had settled down with my current stepfather, J, and he was everything a father should be. He treated me like his own. My mother was a few months pregnant with my little brother when I moved here. I thought everything was perfect, but that definitely wasn't true. My mother and I argued every day. He didn't take illegal drugs, instead he went to the doctor's office and had them prescribed. He was taking so many pills that they had horrible reactions to each other. He took out all his anger on me; everything I did was wrong. He was screaming at the top of his lungs in my face and I felt his spit hit my face. I just cried. It was all I could do. Every time we argued, I called my grandmother crying. I would like to spend a week at my grandmother's house, then go back and try again. Unfortunately it never worked in my favor. I know families don't always get along, but the way she acted towards me was terrible. I always wondered why he never scolded my brother. He was so lucky; I was happy he didn't have to go through what I went through, and I hoped he never would have to. Well, our arguments got worse. At the age of seventeen I finally rebelled. I begged her to sign the emancipation papers. I was determined that I could face life on my own. The day I asked her to sign the documents she grabbed me by the hair and then started choking me. I grabbed her arms and pulled them away from her neck. She started punching me so hard and I hit her back; I didn't know what else to do. I left his house that day and never returned. I managed to manage life on my own, with a little help from my grandparents. Today I have my own house, my own car, a fantastic job and the support of my grandparents. I believe I am a good example of a good Catholic member and I have no intention of following in my parents' footsteps. I am grateful that my grandparents showed me the right way to behave and helped me do it