Scratching for Survival

The woman at the redemption counter rolled her eyes without any attempt to hide it.

She tore off a 20-dollar scratch card and tossed it in front of me. "You're beyond saving! How did Westridge University even admit a student like you?"

I had heard words like that too many times already. From my roommate, from strangers, and now from her. They no longer stung.

I took the scratch card, thanked her, and left without scratching it on the spot.

I had barely walked two steps when my phone rang. When I saw "Mom" on the screen, I froze for a moment.

That contact felt like it belonged to another lifetime, distant and unfamiliar.

"Hello." I answered just before the call would have gone to voicemail.

Mom's sharp voice came through immediately. "Hmph, I thought you'd have more backbone than to answer my call.

"The scratch cards I gave you at the start of the semester should be all used up by now, right? How much did you win on the last one?"

I told her the truth. "20 dollars."

The mockery in her tone deepened. "Tsk, well your luck isn't bad then. You didn't starve to death."

I could not take it anymore.

"Mom, do you know how I've been surviving this semester? On handouts from my roommate and digging through trash for leftover food! And today, if my advisor hadn't been kind enough to buy me a meal, I probably would've collapsed and ended up in the hospital!"

I thought hearing about what I had been through might change her mind.

Instead, she let out a scornful laugh. "So what, you're trying to brag to me about your good luck? How you ran into a nice roommate and a nice advisor?

"Elena Marshall, I want you to understand that you shouldn't rely on that kind of wishful thinking!

"If you could get into Westridge on luck, then getting enough to eat on luck shouldn't be that hard either, should it?"

Tears spilled from my eyes.

I screamed into the phone. "I got into Westridge and won those competitions through hard work! I never once said I got into college because of luck!"

My outburst only made Mom more impatient.

"Stop putting on an act. What hard work? I gave birth to you. Don't you think I know what you're capable of? When I was pregnant with you, I deliberately fell down the stairs a few times and still couldn't get rid of you. If that's not good luck, what is?"

When I heard those words, my blood felt like it froze instantly. This was the first time she had ever said something so blunt and cruel to me directly.

I had heard relatives gossip about it before.

After Mom got pregnant, a rural medical worker told her I was a girl. She did not want to keep me.

Abortion technology back then was not as advanced as it was now. She did not have the courage to go through with it, so she gave birth to me.

What she had not expected was a difficult labor that resulted in a hysterectomy. She could never have children again. My father divorced her because she could no longer give him more children.

All the pieces suddenly connected.

Anger and grief erupted all at once.

"If I'd known I'd have to survive on scratch cards, do you think I would've chosen to be born?"

"Oh, so now you're complaining?" Mom snorted coldly on the other end of the line.

"Fine then. From now on I'll just switch to ten-dollar cards instead. You've got good luck anyway, so I might as well save myself some money!"

With that, she hung up with a sharp click. I knew she had probably blocked me again.

I returned to the dorm in a daze and stared blankly for a long time at the scratch card I had just exchanged.

Finally, I gathered the courage to start scratching.

First row, nothing. Second row, nothing either. By the third row, still nothing.

By the time I reached the last row, I closed my eyes in resignation and scratched randomly.

After a long moment, I opened my trembling eyes.

I had won! The prize column read five million dollars!