I can relate to this story by an anonymous teen in the March issue. My grandmother also saved my life. She walked into my mother's house when I was three months old and saw me screaming in my crib while my two-year-old brother ran around. Where was our mother? Passed out on the couch from a drug overdose. My father was in Maryland, and when my grandmother called him, he came home and signed custody over to my grandmother. Every once in a while we would visit our mother but only because my grandmother forced us to. My mother burned my arm when I was four; she was cooking for her boyfriend and when I reached in the pan, she pushed my arm down on it. I really don't understand how any mother could do that.

To the author, I totally know how you feel and what you're going through. I'm 17 and haven't seen my mother since I was five. My grandmother was the closest thing to a mother I had, and she passed away last April.