## My mom is what you’d call an enabler—especially when it comes to her brother. She’d rather let our family go hungry, scraping together pennies for a meal, just so she could send money to her precious brother. When she found out I’d won $5 million in the lottery, her first reaction wasn’t excitement for me or relief for our struggles. Nope. Her immediate thought was to use the money to help her dear brother buy a house and a car. “Your uncle’s son is getting older, and his girlfriend said she won’t marry him unless they have a house. Since you won the lottery, just give them the money. It’s the right thing to do.” The kicker? My mom said this while we were still living in a rented apartment. In my last life, she didn’t even bother asking me. She secretly gave the money to my uncle behind my back. Then, I got sick—a serious illness that required urgent treatment. We needed money fast, so I went to my uncle and begged him to return what he owed. But he slammed the door in my face, saying, “That money was a gift from your mom. It’s mine now.” In the end, because I couldn’t afford the surgery, I died in a hospital bed. At my funeral, my mom stood by my gravestone, sighing. “Well, you were just a girl. Girls are always someone else’s responsibility. Even if you’d kept the money, it would’ve been wasted on you.” Now, I wake up to find myself back on the day I discovered I’d won the lottery. This time, things are going to be different. ###
“Hey, sweetheart, there’s no food left in the house. Do you think you could ask your boss for an advance? Or maybe borrow some money from a friend?” I jolted back to reality, snapping out of my daze. My mom was sitting in the living room, her face full of worry, glancing at me expectantly. The scene felt eerily familiar—exactly how it had played out in my previous life. Without thinking, I shoved my hand into my pocket, gripping tightly onto the lottery ticket that was about to change my life. I opened my mouth, but instead of saying what I had before, I chose a new approach. “Mom, didn’t I just send you $500 a few days ago?” Her expression stiffened for a moment, but she quickly covered it up with a sigh. “Oh, well, your cousin said he wanted a new phone, but he didn’t have enough money, so I helped him out a bit.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly on the inside. I was still using my cousin’s old hand-me-down phone, one so slow that it took a full minute just to open an app. Meanwhile, my cousin, decked out in designer clothes, always seemed to be living far better than us. But none of that mattered to my mom—she lived to serve her family, always ready to hand over money. I feigned a troubled expression and walked into the kitchen. Opening the rice bin, I found it almost completely empty—just a few stray grains rattling around at the bottom. “Mom, the money I sent you was everything I had. Last month, you said Uncle’s family had an emergency, so I gave you my entire $1,000 savings to help them. I don’t have anything left.” At that moment, my mom’s stomach growled audibly, and her face clouded over with even more worry. I glanced at the clock, then grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Why don’t you go have dinner at Uncle’s house? It’s almost dinnertime anyway, and you can help Auntie cook while you’re there.” I rolled her electric scooter out of the garage and handed it to her. “I have to head to work—my boss just called me in to cover a shift.” She hesitated, looking back at me. “You really think it’s okay for me to go over there uninvited? Your aunt doesn’t exactly like me, you know.” I almost laughed out loud at the irony of her words. She *knew* Auntie didn’t like her, but that had never stopped her from bending over backward for them—sending them money, groceries, and even doing their housework. “It’s fine. Didn’t my cousin say the other day that he was craving your sweet and sour ribs?” Her face lit up just as I’d expected. “You’re right! I should go buy some ribs. I’ll get extra—little Mikey eats a lot.” She paused, realizing she’d said too much, then quickly hopped on her scooter and sped off. “I’ll head over now. Oh, and you should think about picking up a part-time job to earn a little extra cash!” I stood there, watching her ride away, her words still ringing in my ears. She cried poor to me, but all her money went to my uncle’s family. She didn’t even bother to ask if *I* had enough to eat or pay my bills. I worked late nights, often until 1 or 2 a.m., but it was never enough for her. Shaking my head, I went back inside, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and grabbed my hat and sunglasses. It was time to cash in my winning lottery ticket. — ###
In my previous life, I never understood my mom’s true nature. I kept telling myself that if I worked harder, achieved more, and treated her better, she’d finally see my worth and love me the way I wanted to be loved. So back then, the moment I realized I’d won the lottery, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I ran straight to her and blurted it out. “Mom, forget about buying rice! I’m taking you out for a fancy dinner. Guess what? I won the lottery—$5 million! We’ll never have to worry about money again!” She was overjoyed, but her first words weren’t about us. “That’s amazing! Now your cousin can finally get married. The girl’s family said they won’t approve unless he has a house and a car. Your uncle’s been so stressed about it.” She didn’t even pause to think. “I need to call your uncle and tell him the good news!” Her words made me freeze. I grabbed her arm, confused and angry. “Mom, this is *my* money. What does Uncle’s family have to do with it?” She looked at me, disappointed, as if I were the one being unreasonable. “Your uncle is my only sibling. When I’m gone, your cousin is the one who’ll take care of you. Don’t you want to build a good relationship with him?” Her logic made no sense to me. I was supposed to sacrifice my future for some vague promise of care from my cousin? I refused, but I had no idea she’d already made up her mind. Behind my back, she stole the winning ticket and gave it to my uncle. Uncle cashed it in, and his family took the entire $5 million for themselves. When I confronted them, my uncle laughed in my face. “That money? Your mom *gave* it to me. It’s mine now. Don’t even think about asking for it back.” When my health started failing and I needed surgery, I begged my uncle for help. He refused outright. “I don’t have money for that,” he said bluntly. “My wife’s pregnant, and raising a kid is expensive. Besides, your condition sounds serious. Why waste money on a lost cause?” When I brought up the lottery money, he got angry and hung up on me. “That was *your mom’s* gift to me. It’s got nothing to do with you!” When my mom found out, she scolded me for being selfish. “Your uncle has his own problems. You need to stop thinking about money and start valuing family.” In the end, I died at just 26, unable to afford the surgery I needed. At my funeral, my mom barely shed a tear. She stood by my grave and muttered, “You can’t blame me for this. You’re a girl—girls are meant to marry out. It’s not like the money would’ve done you any good.” I hated her with every fiber of my being. Now, I’ve been given a second chance. This time, I won’t let her control me. If she’s so desperate to sacrifice everything for her brother, she can go right ahead. But she’ll do it without me. ###
I didn’t tell anyone about winning the lottery. Instead, I disguised myself completely—baggy clothes, a mask, sunglasses, and even a new hairstyle. I made sure no one could recognize me before heading to the lottery office. I declined all interviews with reporters, paid the taxes, and soon after, $4 million landed in my bank account. Staring at all those zeros on the screen, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even speak. In my previous life, after finding out I’d won, I dreamed of countless ways to improve my life. But not a single one of those dreams came true. I still lived the same miserable existence—squeezing onto crowded buses every day to save money, refusing to buy even a bottle of water when I was thirsty. My boss and coworkers constantly picked on me, humiliating me at every turn. Even when I was burning up with a 102°F fever, I had to stay up late working overtime to finish reports. Meanwhile, my uncle and aunt lived like royalty, using *my* money to buy a house, drive luxury cars, and feast on the best food while traveling the world. My cousin posted pictures on social media, showing off his designer watch or the emblem of his sports car, captioned with: *”Who can understand the loneliness of someone like me?”* Well, now it’s my turn to experience the “loneliness of the rich.” — ###
The first thing I did after getting the money was schedule a full medical checkup. I wanted to make sure I was healthy. The results would take three days to process. After leaving the hospital, I decided to treat myself to a nice meal at a restaurant. Originally, I wanted to order everything I’d been too frugal to buy before—all the dishes I’d only dreamed of. But my years of penny-pinching had become second nature, and in the end, I only ordered two modest dishes. It didn’t matter, though. I had plenty of money now, and plenty of time. I could take my time savoring life’s luxuries. As the sky darkened and the clock neared 9 p.m., I noticed my phone had ten missed calls from my mom. Finally, I stood up and started heading home. On my way back, I stopped by a street vendor selling stir-fried noodles. I bought a box, stirred it up with my chopsticks, and threw half of it in the trash. “Forgive me,” I muttered under my breath, “but sacrifices must be made.” Then I carried the remaining half home. When I walked in, my mom was sitting in the living room, her face stormy with anger. The moment she saw me, she grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it at me, shouting furiously. “Do you even remember you have a home? I’m starving to death here, and you’re out doing who-knows-what!” I sidestepped the ashtray and held out the half-eaten box of noodles like a peace offering. Smiling apologetically, I said, “Sorry, Mom. My boss made me work overtime, and I couldn’t check my phone.” “This is the dinner my boss bought me. I saved most of it for you. There’s even some meat left in there.” Her mood flipped faster than a switch. She snatched the box from my hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m such a useless mother,” she sobbed. “I can’t do anything for you. I have to rely on you to feed me. I might as well just die.” This didn’t happen in my previous life. But I knew this routine all too well. Four years ago, she’d pulled the same stunt to get me to quit my high-paying job in the city and move back to this small, dead-end town as a lowly office clerk. “Mom’s getting old,” she’d said back then, crying. “I don’t know how many years I have left. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can before I go.” Now, watching her put on the same performance, I felt a wave of wariness wash over me. But I played along, wiping my eyes dramatically. “Mom, don’t say that. Without you, this house wouldn’t feel like home. If you weren’t here, what would be the point of my life?” She sniffled, dabbing at her tears, and I mimicked her, sniffling even louder. Crying? Two could play at that game. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “Your aunt found you a potential match. I’ve already met him—he’s honest, hardworking, and a good guy. Why don’t you pick a date to get the marriage license?” She paused to sigh deeply, her voice tinged with longing. “My biggest wish is to see you get married and have kids.” And there it was. The real reason behind all this drama. I knew exactly who this “match” was. A 38-year-old divorced man with two kids—one of whom was about to graduate high school. His hairline was a proud homage to the “horseshoe” look, his face looked like it had survived a warzone, and his attitude reeked of a self-proclaimed patriarch. He was a Jacktic mix of styles, leaving his overall vibe a complete mystery. When I saw his picture for the first time, I honestly thought my aunt had found a new husband for *herself.* And yet, my mom still had the audacity to call this guy a “good catch”? Of course, it wasn’t about me. It was about the $20,000 dowry he’d promised her. ###
My cousin has been in a relationship for three years now. He’s turning 29 this year, and with 30 looming on the horizon, his entire family is in panic mode. My mom, of course, has joined the frenzy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think *he* was her son. The girlfriend’s family laid out their requirements: a fully paid, move-in-ready house with her name on the deed, a BMW, and a $70,000 cash dowry. My uncle’s family couldn’t come up with anywhere near that amount of money, so naturally, my mom turned her sights on me. Even $20,000 wouldn’t make much of a dent in their demands, but to her, every little bit helped. I knew her game plan inside and out. She was still rambling on about what a “great guy” my cousin was, even pulling out pictures to show me. I couldn’t bear to look and turned away, suddenly standing up and grabbing her hands. “Mom,” I said seriously, “I support you. Dad’s been gone for years, and I’m not the type of kid to stand in your way. If you like this man, then I think you should go for it. Move in with him, and you’ll even have his two kids to look after. It’ll give you something to do.” My mom froze like a jammed machine, her words cutting off mid-sentence. Her face turned red as she stammered, “W-what are you talking about? This isn’t for me! It’s for you!” I stared at her in disbelief. “This guy’s old enough to be my dad!” She avoided my eyes, wiping imaginary tears as she slumped onto the couch and started her usual sob story. “Your dad’s gone. The only family I have left is your uncle. When I was a kid and had nothing to eat, it was your uncle who gave me half a piece of bread and saved my life. Now that he’s in trouble, how could I not help him?” She sniffled dramatically. “It’s all my fault. I’m useless. What’s the point of me even being alive? I’m just a burden to you, and I can’t even help little Mikey. I should just die!” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. “Mom, stop crying. I’ll go borrow money to help Mikey get married.” Her eyes widened in shock. “Sweetheart… that’s not what I meant.” But inside, I was laughing coldly. *Not what you meant? Then what was it? You’re practically selling off your own daughter to fund his wedding.* “Mom, you don’t have to say anything. I get it.” “I don’t have any other family. When I get married and move out, I’ll need Uncle’s family to have my back. Mikey is like a big brother to me, and if he’s in trouble, it’s my duty to help him, no matter what it costs me.” My mom’s face softened as tears welled up in her eyes. For the first time, she reached out and held my hand. “You’ve grown up, sweetheart. You finally understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family.” I couldn’t stand looking at her fake, pitiful expression any longer. The very next day, I told her I was going on a work trip and moved out of the house entirely. I wired $20,000 to Mikey, who called me personally to thank me. “Nancy, you’re the best. With a sister like you, I’m so lucky. Don’t worry—when I’m doing well, I’ll make sure to take care of you.” Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added, “By the way, could you lend me a little more? My fiancée says she wants a nicer car. Nothing too crazy—just another $50,000 should do it.” Feigning hesitation, I told him I’d check my finances and get back to him. A few hours later, I wired him another $50,000. On the phone, he was over the moon, showering me with compliments. My mom, overhearing the call, chimed in, saying I was the best daughter in the world. Neither of them seemed remotely concerned about how I’d repay the $70,000 I’d borrowed. I watched them from afar, their faces glowing with excitement and greed. Go ahead, enjoy yourselves. It won’t be long before you realize the price you’ll have to pay.
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