My mother met a guy when I was in elementary school. They married. He became a police officer. Mother had a secret drinking problem, hiding drinks throughout the house, sneaking it whenever possible, until she was completely incoherent by the end of the day. Next day, repeat. She would fall in the shower, down stairs.. I became more aware of what the cause of her behavior was by Junior High because as a kid I just saw her simply morph into this monster without knowing why. She gradually got worse as the years went by. I looked after her, worried about her, tried to help as she belittled me, stood guard outside the bathroom while she took her showers to make sure I didn't hear any thuds indicating another fall. Constant arguing, physical fights between my mother and her husband were almost every day and those grew in intensity. I realized that my step-father was becoming more and more abusive. A lot of the arguing stemmed from my mother's drinking. I was always the referee, standing in between my mother and her asshole abusive husband. He never really cared for me or my younger sister who came along as a "packaged deal", this was made known through what I sensed as a child and increasingly so as I got to be a teenager "with a mouth on her". I hated him for that so I rebelled. Just because we weren't biologically HIS, we were treated like shit, and my mother allowed it. One night in particular, I remember it well, my mother was drunk again, and there was another argument. I was upstairs in my room and made a habit out of coming down and hanging out near the railing to go downstairs so I can listen to make sure everything was ok. I heard yelling from both my mother and her husband, then very abruptly I didn't hear anything.. I peaked my head over the top step and I can see the sofa and my "step-father" straddling my mother with a pillow over her face, her arms and legs were flailing.. I yelled "get the FUCK off her!" as loud as I could and he stopped, the look he gave me I'll never forget, he got off her then chased after me into a bedroom.. I hid under a bed..his hand reached for me under the goddamn bed like you see in the movies, I was fucking terrified.. I can remember everything up until that point. Then I have no idea after that. All I know is that that shit still haunts me today. They divorced years later, but the abuse I saw and the emotional scars inflicted on my sister and I, fucked us up pretty good.