I live with my aunt and her boyfriend. He is an ex-coke head/alcoholic and a mentally abusive cocksucker, calling my aunt (who is a second mother to me) a cunt, a whore, a cow, and all sorts of nasty names. I tried talking to her about getting him to leave, but she always became very emotional and never got around to doing so.

Last Monday, my aunt came home and he (Jimmy) was drunk. Very, very drunk. After 15 months of sobriety, he was wasted and crying and a complete mess. Without any hesitation, my aunt tossed him out of the house. They had already broken up once before due to his addictions but got back together with the ultimatum that if he fucked up one more time, he was out.

So, he was out. You think the story ends there? NOPE.

He was admitted to rehab early Tuesday morning. We were free for three days of his bitching and loudness and assholery. But all hell broke loose on Friday.

I was sitting in my room, reading comic books, when I hear Jimmy's (the boyfriend's) voice outside the house. My aunt was working from home that day, thankfully. I honestly don't know what I would have done if he came to the house and I was alone.

He barges into the house and calls our neighbor on his cell phone. Our neighbor, a late 50's, early 60's woman, has her mother in the hospital with severe dementia and is simultaneously taking care of her elderly father too. She had told my aunt that before Jimmy went to rehab, cars were pulling up to the house and he was running out to them, talking for a few minutes, and then they would drive away. Last time this happened, it was drug dealers.

He calls our neighbor, my aunt says to leave our neighbor alone, she had sick parents to worry about. I'm downstairs at this time, making sure nothing happens, with my cell phone ready just in case.

My aunt is trying to make him leave the house. He refuses to leave. The arguments begin escalating, and my aunt and Jimmy move to the backyard. I'm told to stay inside, but I hover near the windows so I can hear everything.

There are shouts, and the next thing I hear is my aunt screaming "ADAMANDATIUM!! HELP, HELP CALL THE POLICE!"

I dial 911 while rushing out to see if she is fine. She's curled up in the fetal position on the chair, while Jimmy is in a rage. He is also on the phone with the police, saying that my aunt threw a chair at him and he wanted to press battery charges against her.

He kept on repeating, "You're fucked. I'm going to put you in jail, you bitch, and you'll never work a day in your life again. You're fucked, I'm going to fucking ruin your life."

The police arrived a few minutes later. I know I didn't see anything, but the chairs we have outside are quite large. I was within 10 feet of the porch window and I would have definitely heard the chair scraping against the concrete and the resulting crash. None of the chair were moved at all, and my aunt is one of the most nonviolent people I've met. She can't even stand feeding crickets to our bearded dragon.

Jimmy is now trying to pin everything on my aunt. He told the police that my aunt threw a chair at him, and he actually had an ambulance come to the house because he 'hurt his knee'.

Luckily, the police saw through his bullshit. They were interviewing my aunt and I when I found out that he (jimmy) has kicked her in the stomach.

My blood ran absolutely cold. This woman took me in to her house and has acted as a second mother to me. If the police weren't there, I would have given that fucker what he deserved - a real case where he could press real assault charges against someone, instead of making stuff up.

The police escorted him inside to pack his things up. All they could do, since my aunt did not want to press charges at the time (I'm trying to convince her she should at the moment), was have him leave the premises for 24 hours since he legally lived there.

He ran from room to room, gathering his stuff. The police were getting pissed because they gave him five minutes and it had already been 15 and Jimmy kept on making snarky comments. When he has all his things, after running from room to room in the house, he stops dead in his tracks and starts clutching his knee. "Oooooh, my knee is throbbing! I need an ambulance!!"

What happened next almost made me laugh out loud.

One of the officers looked him dead in the eye said, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Get your shit, get out, and stop pretending you're injured. We've already established that this woman is the victim. So stop."

He left, we just got finished changing the locks about four hours ago, and he is allowed to come back ONCE to get the rest of his shit, then he's gone. For good.

I can sense such a feeling of relief throughout the house with him gone. Now, it's just my aunt and me, plus our animals. Sure, I'm going to have to do a little more house-and-yard work than normal, but I don't care. We can both sleep soundly and safely for the first time in a few months.

I've never been happier, and I though you all would want to hear my story of triumph.