What They Would Do If They Won the Lottery

Chapter 1

When I heard the news, my heart nearly stopped. I had to repeat the numbers over and over: 8, 15, 22, 26, 31. The numbers on the television were the exact same numbers on my lottery ticket that I bought by chance the night before. Somehow, the planets had aligned just right, and I had won $45,000,000.

I was only eighteen years old when it happened. I don’t know what I expected, but life didn’t change instantaneously. The seconds still clicked by at the same rate and I still woke up with a headache every morning. They say money can’t solve your problems, but I disagree. As soon as the lottery mushroomed before me, my dreams that were hindered by a lack of funds began to unfold. With my priorities straight, my first expense would be paying for six years of college at $22,000 a year, adding up to roughly a grand total of a mere $132,000 for my degree in speech-language pathology. With the money that remained, however, a fire would start in me that wouldn’t be extinguished until I was broke.

I invested in foreclosures, and when the housing market began to boom once more, it began raining profits. A glistening new car whose ability to preserve its fuel to replace my gas guzzling pickup could be found parked in my driveway, and a down payment on a quaint house was able to be easily mustered. Somehow, in the end, I still had funds left over. At twenty-six years old, I still found myself a millionaire. I invested, monitored, and maintained my funds, all while gaining my degree. Despite my fiscal competency, I was still alone. Come Christmas time, even though I had the money to purchase anything I wanted for myself, I couldn’t think of any material thing that I’d like. The truth is, as you get older, you want less and less for the holidays, because the things you want can’t be bought. In summary, money changes you, and it definitely makes life easier, but in the end, it won’t be enough to make you happy. Happiness comes from within.

Chapter 2

It wasn’t even the crack of dawn when I was roused from my sleep, by the same sound that I came to hate over the course of the last week. It wasn’t the howling winter winds or the bed springs creaking as the kids jumped up and down on my bed. Those I had grown accustomed to and tolerated. Instead it was the sound of the phone ringing at six in the morning.

Last week I hit the jackpot playing the lottery, forty five million dollars. More than enough to start a new life, even after taxes took more than half of it. It should have been a joyous occasion, but the moment my name came up on the television as the winner, the calls started. The phone stopped ringing for a moment when the call failed to get through. Silence was returned to me and I basked in it, allowing my body to fall into the abyss of dreams once more. But, before sleep could take me again, the phone rang and showed me there was no end until I replied.

I forced my tired body to move, ignoring its complaints, and answered. It was another distant relative on my mother’s side that I hadn’t even known about, the tenth one this week. I told them they had the wrong number and hung up, before disconnecting my phone so that the vultures could stop pecking at me for scraps. But now I was unable to get to sleep again and ended up going to get breakfast ready slightly prematurely. The apartment we lived in now was rather small, but it was homely and I had grown to love it over the years. It was a shame to have to leave it, but I really wanted to give my kids a better life. That was why I gambled on winning the lottery and was pleased when I did.

Just looking at the simple breakfast I was making over the stove and knowing that we didn’t have to scrimp by now was a relief. I could pay off all our debts and give the kids what they wanted for Christmas for once. No more ignoring calls or changing the numbers to stave off the debt companies.

And then I could give back to all those who helped us to this point. Friends and neighbors who kept us afloat and in decent company could now have the favor returned. It was only fair. I could donate to a Toys-for-Charity drive so that other kids would be able get what they wanted for Christmas too.

But that was all the immediate uses for it. What was I going to do with what was leftover? Too many stories could be found about people who won big and were left with nothing in the end. I didn’t want to end up like that.

Breakfast was ready when I heard the pitter-patter of four feet traversing the cold tile floor and the boys came into view. Using their bed sheets to keep warm by wrapping it around their bodies, they both sat at the table and greeted me with warm and innocent smiles. They had no idea the hardships we were in, at least not enough to know how far in debt we were, and I hadn’t told them about winning the lottery either—but now things were different.

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