I lock my younger siblings in the upstairs bathroom and start walking down the steps, paying attention to the place where I place my foot, because we know that the steps squeak. I held on to the railing until my knuckles were white and looked around the corner to see Jonathan holding my father back as he rushed towards my mother. She looked at him in thought and somehow I knew exactly what she was going to say. “I want a divorce.” My father stopped struggling in my brother's arms and seemed to sober up a little and asked, "What?" My mother nods. if she tried to convince herself that this was what she wanted and she nodded with tears in her eyes "I want to divorce Carlos." Not only did she say this with confidence, but she said it knowing that he would never change. He was drowning and she finally realized she couldn't throw him a float. She thought the divorce was causing problems not only for them, but also for us. We suffered just like he did before. By my senior year of high school, my relationship with my father had completely fallen apart. Bad things happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness or I can choose to forgive and move on with my life. Whether he's inside or