Scratching for Survival

For a moment, all kinds of emotions tangled in my chest. But the strongest one was joy.

The grand prize had to be claimed at the lottery center. I did not waste any time. I got up and bolted out the door.

Fortunately, the school was not far away. Even though I had no money for transportation, I walked for half an hour and arrived.

The moment I received the money, I still felt like I was dreaming. I stared at the string of numbers on my bank card over and over again, tears streaming down my face.

I went to the most expensive restaurant in the city and finally ate my fill. People coming and going could not help but stare at me devouring my food like I had not eaten in weeks.

Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.

After wandering around all day, I had just returned to the dorm when Mom called.

"Sweetie, did you win the lottery?"

The affectionate nickname made my skin crawl. I had forgotten how long it had been since she last called me that.

Even when she found out I got into Westridge, she had been lukewarm at best.

"Win what lottery? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mom got anxious immediately. "Elena Marshall, don't play games with me! I saw it on the news! Today someone in the city won the scratch card grand prize! I recognized the winner's back immediately. It was you! I could spot you anywhere."

I was incredibly frustrated.

At the time, I had been so overwhelmed by the joy of winning that all I could think about was claiming the prize quickly and getting a proper meal.

I had forgotten to disguise myself better so people I knew would not recognize me.

"You've got the wrong person. It wasn't me!"

After throwing out that line, I hung up in a hurry. She kept calling, but I did not answer. Eventually, I blocked her.

I thought that would make her settle down.

Early the next morning, Danielle shook my bed frame. "Elena, get up right now. Something terrible happened!"

Her next sentence jolted me wide awake. "Your mom is on the roof of the research building threatening to see you. If you don't come, she says she's going to jump!"

My drowsiness vanished instantly. I leapt out of bed and ran outside in my pajamas, hair a mess.

"I want to expose my daughter, Westridge student Elena Marshall! She's always relied on her good luck and loves gambling. She has no respect for her mother.

"Now that she's won the grand prize, she wants to cut ties with me. Does a student like this deserve to attend Westridge?"

Even though it was early morning, there were already quite a few students out exercising. Everyone had stopped what they were doing.

They gathered around to watch.

Some cursed me. Some envied me. But most just wanted to see the drama unfold.

Looking at Mom on the rooftop acting like she had lost her mind, I opened my mouth to shout for her to come down. The words reached my lips, but I swallowed them back.

Since she said I loved gambling, then this time I would gamble that she did not have the guts to jump. So I quietly turned around, left the crowd, and returned to my dorm.

I wrote an application for a study abroad research program.

Fortunately, I won the bet.

Mom valued her life too much to actually jump. When she realized no amount of theatrics would make me meet her, and when the wind whipped around her on that exposed rooftop, she finally backed down.

The school, preferring to avoid scandal, called me in for counseling.

When Mr. Palmer heard that the scratch cards were the living allowance my own mother gave me, he went silent. He said he would not interfere with the matter anymore.

The school also tightened security and stopped allowing unrelated people onto campus.

The study abroad research program was not difficult to apply for. Considering my decent entrance exam scores, they gave me a spot.

Mr. Palmer told me to hurry and apply for a passport.

I did not drag my feet. After preparing all the materials, I went immediately to apply for my passport.

The staff member held my ID and worked at the computer for a long time. I watched as everyone around me finished their applications. I started to sense something was wrong.

"Ms. Marshall, I'm sorry. Your application cannot be approved at this time."

After a long while, the staff member finally spoke, shaking their head.

"We found that there is a lawsuit filed against you. According to regulations, you cannot apply to leave the country."

Confused, I opened my phone. In my blocked messages, I found one from several days ago.

I looked closely. The sender was an unfamiliar court number.

The message clearly stated that my mother had taken me to court on the grounds of "failure to provide financial support to a parent."