Stepfather of the year...

I was 18 years old, and still living with my mom, stepdad, and baby sister. I had just finished a night shift as a courtesy clerk at the grocery store down the street from our house. I should say their house, because it was made very clear to me on multiple occasions, by my stepdad, that I was only there because my mom needed help with the baby, and I was not wanted.

When I got home from work, I received a phone call from my friend, Marcus, asking if I wanted to go to WINCO for some donuts and chocolate milk. This was a regular thing for us, being that we were only 18, in a small town, and had nothing else to do after 11 o'clock at night. I said sure and changed out of my work uniform. I told my mom that I was going to go out with some friends and might not be back until a little late that night.

A little late was never really that late for me. I had work early the next day anyway, so I didn't want to be out too late. So my mom was ok with it because I had a key, and I knew to be quiet when I came home.

When I went outside, I saw Marcus and his friend standing in my driveway. I asked where his car was and he said that he didn't have it anymore, so we would have to walk. Knowing that this would make me a little later than I originally planned, I went along anyway. We walked to the store and back, talking, laughing, and enjoying the quiet of the night. We didn't get into trouble or do anything bad or nefarious.

When I got back home, just a little after 1 am, I opened the door and walked in quietly, making sure to close the door almost silently. I crept my way downstairs, changed, and got into bed.

I hadn't been asleep for long when I woke up to my stepdad banging on my door and yelling at me to get up. Startled by the sudden jolt, I jumped out of bed and ran to my door. Before I could reach it, the door swung open with such force that it slammed into my wall. I jumped back from the sound.

There in the doorway stood my stepdad, his long black hair streaked with a few strands of grey was tied back in a loose ponytail, he wore an oversized white T-shirt with a pair of black shorts. He wasn't a tall man, but he did his best to be intimidating as he reached out his hand and demanded that I hand over my cell phone. His reason for doing so is that he accused me of "whoring around with a bunch of guys all night."

I did my best to explain to him that was not the case, but he would hear none of my explanations, as he continued to demand my phone. I continued to refuse because it was mine. I bought it, paid the bill and it was in my name.

My mom, who had the baby in her arms, came downstairs to see what was going on and attempt to calm down the situation. This only made matters worse, because he accused her of trying to defend her "whore daughter." He began to scream at her, getting right in her face and making my little sister scream. I made an attempt to get between them or take the baby, but my mom turned and ran upstairs.

My stepdad ran after her, screaming at her the whole time. I could hear her trying to tell him to leave her alone, but he was relentless. My little sister and my mom were hysterical. I was confused about how all of this could happen just because I went out with a few friends for a couple of hours.

I ran upstairs as fast as I could. Bursting into my mom's bedroom, I found my mom had barricaded herself and my sister in the bathroom, while my stepdad was banging on the door and screaming. I yelled at him to leave my mom the fuck alone. He whirled on me and slammed into me like a truck. The force knocked me back a few paces, but I was determined. I steadied myself for him to make another move.

This time he shoved me into the wall, his hand around my throat as my head hit the wall. Refusing to concede, I reached back and sent my right fist into the side of his head. The strike dazed him long enough for me to slip out of his grasp and make my way to the other end of the hall.

It wasn't long before he was back in my face, with a swing that connected to my stomach. I let another fist fly and made the connection to the side of his neck. He maneuvered me to the top of the stairs and tried to throw me down. But I grabbed a fistful of his hair and his shirt, and through gritted teeth, "If you throw me down, you're coming with me motherfucker." I saw the fear in his eyes for a moment, and he let me go.

I had finally won. He knew that he could not break me...

In the aftermath of this moment, our family was never the same. My mother denied any of this until the day she died, and he still won't admit to any fault in all the years of abuse. The real stepdad of the year.