, , , , , , , ,

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “You’re a Winner!.”

I bought my ticket at the local gas station as I do every week. Every week I sign it and have the clerk scan it since I can never remember to check online. The clerk was freaking out. She was screaming… “You won.. You won… Oh my G*d… You have won!” She was still screaming with exictment for me. She handed me the ticket. I felt like I was in another world. Good things like that do not happen to me. Well, it turned out the clerk was right. I had won a billion dollars.

Definitely out of my range of reality. I grew up poor and never had new cloths. Hand me downs and thrift stores kept my family dressed as best as we could be under such circumstances. I was in shock. I followed all the instructions and the money was mine. Then everyone came out of the woodwork. Those relatives that called me crazy for telling the truth. Those friends who only wanted to be friends when I had something they needed. The sperm donor who beat me so bad I had a near death experience was trying to get us back together after being free of his abuse for 13 years. The kids and I decided we could change our names. We got that ball rolling while trying to find a place to hide from those that are not loving or kind. (Most of my family and the family of the abusive violent sperm donor).

With new names and a new life we moved to that perfect spot. A self sustaining farm where I could live at peace. The kids knew what they wanted to do and with my help they attended the best colleges and had cars that did not run out of oil or eat tires. This was the place where as a family we could grow. It was heaven being miles from no where and giving back to those who helped me so many years ago. I sent off checks to the agencies that helped me when I was homeless. I sent checks to the food banks that helped us. Then I called my sister who has an amazing way of handling money. She helped me invest so I could continue to donate to charities and work at home when I felt like working.

I found myself bored. So I bought some horses and a farm hand who could teach me how to take care of the horses and taught me how to use a plow. Yeah, strange right. I have always wanted a farm. I got some goats, pigs, cows, and horses. When the barns were ready they were brought to our new home. They give me a reason to get out of my bed instead of being a lazy leech because I had nothing to do. I had hired a few more farmer hands. I really enjoyed the peace of the place and the wonderful people who had no idea I was a billionaire.

It was fresh start for me. It is a dream come true. I just don’t know what else I am going to do other then wait for the moment my children get their diplomas, and find the job of their dreams. They know how much I hate having so much money. Yet, they agreed with sharing with charities. Once they found thier dream job I helped them buy a house and start their lives. Some stayed close, but some decided to fly farther then the rest. Either way, being a billionaire is not the best, but it is not the worst either. I am grateful I can help support agencies that help the homeless, the victims of domestic violence, and those that are needing a step up in life. That is why I have so many rooms in the farm house. I have been fostering the most difficult children who were abandoned by everyone they ever knew. Yep, moving was the best thing I could do. I love my life for the first time in my life.