The Boy Who Lost Millions

Hobo. H-o-b-o. Never a nice word, at least the way I’ve heard it. People passing by me on the road muttering under their breaths. My story is famous, and no one will ever let me forget it. The worst part is, it didn’t have to be this way. One small change could alter my entire world.

Back before my problems began, I was a happy kid. I was funny, cute, I did well in school. I had a family. A loving, kind family. I was popular, too. I remember every morning biking into school and being greeted by a wall of friends and acquaintances. Everywhere I turned people knew me, and liked me for that matter. My happiness and small town fame lasted me from first grade through high school. Back in sixth grade whenever I made an appearance in a classroom all the kids would cheer out for me.

“Ben! Ben! Ben!” They’d chant. And I’d just smile and wave, high five a few kids. I could never figure out why they liked me so much. It’s like I was just born to be loved by everyone. But, this kind of treatment gets to your head, eventually.

By the time I was a senior, my special treatment was somewhat unbearable. It sounds privileged to say it, but I was sick of people loving me so much. Especially considering my home life at the time was terrible. My parents would never stop fighting, my dog ran away, and I had no one to talk to. With everyone treating me so different it felt like I had no real friends. It was hard to tell if people genuinely liked me or if they thought they had to be nice. I fell into a downward spiral of depression, but my dad losing his job was the last straw.

My family had been relatively comfortable, finically, but we relied on my dad’s job for money and insurance. When he was let go for “non personal reasons,” my parents' marriage fully collapsed. My mom left and my dad turned to the bottle. It became my job to provide for my dad and I. I was once at the top of the world, but now I had crumbled to the bottom.

No one at school knew about my family troubles, so at least I was still loved there? Right? Apparently I was wrong. None of the new lowerclassmen knew about my social prowess so I wasn’t being as adored. I was kind of relieved, actually. It now felt like I didn’t have to constantly impress everyone.

When talk around college grew bigger, I started to worry about my own situation. Because of my new found depression, my grades had slipped. In my best class, English, I was pulling a D+. My favorite teacher, Mrs. Harper had expressed some concern regarding my recent failures.

“I’m here to help you,” she would tell me. Not like I didn’t know that, but I didn’t want to get pitied. I had fallen so low, there was no point in falling lower. Plus, my terrible grade average could hopefully hold me back and give me a little more time to sort out college. My mind had completely shifted. It felt like I aged 30 years. Only thinking about money, how I’m going to pay for college, how I can support my parents.

One day, my life completely changed. I was walking home from school one day, because money was so tight we had to sell the car, when I found a small, mysterious book. It was the middle of winter with snow covering everything, but the book looked untouched by snow. It was clearly just dropped, but no one was around to drop it. Naturally I picked it up, curious as to what the contents were.

“Meet me at the corner cafe, back alley.” Read the only page. I flipped it over and over trying to see if there was a name or address or something that could point me in the direction of the owner. Alas, nothing. Despite the somewhat wet back from resting on the snow, the leather exterior had not one scratch.

There was only one thing to do, I had to go to the cafe. Worst case scenario, I’m mugged, and I have no money to give them. I had nothing to lose. I immediately turned around and headed for my destination. The snow made my walk long and slow, but after fighting the frigid winds I made it. The sun was setting and no one was around, but I was fascinated by what this book meant. Maybe it could change my life.

Once I arrived at the cafe I ducked into the ally and saw nothing there, except for a single envelope. Not addressed to anyone, but similar to the book there were no wet stains or any proof of it sitting in the snow. I picked it up and slowly started opening the top. When it popped open I noticed hundreds of crinkly twenty dollar bills. I gasped as I had never seen such a large sum of money in such a small package. I pulled the cash into my chest and tucked it into my pocket and started running home.

The minute I got home I darted upstairs and into my room. Dirty clothes, empty bottles, and torn school assignments cluttered the floor but I just stepped over it all on my way to my desk. I removed each bill, one by one, laying it neatly on the tabletop. I began counting the money, twenty, forty, eighty, two hundred, five hundred, one thousand, two thousand, and so on. By the time I had finished counting, six thousand dollars laid atop my desk. I was absolutely flabbergasted by what I had just discovered, and went back to check the envelope for any information relating to the owner of it. None. But, what I did notice was a lottery scratch ticket stuck to the corner. I peeled it off and grabbed my house key. I started scraping off the sticky gunk to reveal a combination of numbers: 2, 8, 19, 30, and 39. Extra: 6. I checked the date on the ticket, February 18.

“That’s today!” I screamed aloud. I ran downstairs to my living room and set the tv channel to the lottery announcement, just in time.

“The winning numbers are as follows,” read the deep voiced man on the screen. “2, 8, 19…”

“Oh my god, oh my god, I might’ve just won the lottery!” I exclaimed, so giddy that my numbers were matching up.

“...30, and 39. Extra number, 6! Congratulations to our lucky winner!”

I was so excited I couldn’t even speak. I just remember jumping up and down like a little girl. I stepped into my kitchen and dialed the number on the back of the card to alert the lottery that I had just won.

It took weeks of planning, but my winning amount totaled to $206 million. I was in complete shock that I had scored so big. Suddenly I was back to my old self. Except not just small-town famous. My story became popular nationwide as “The depressive, poor boy who won millions of dollars.” At school I was even bigger. All the girls adored me, all the guys wanted to be my friend, and all of the teachers excused my past grades. Everything was coming up Ben.

My first big purchase was a brand new Tesla. This way I didn’t have to walk in the snow anymore, and I would look cool. Then I decided to buy my dad and I a mansion. We moved in almost instantly. I started purchasing new shoes, clothes, gifts for my dates, whatever. If I wanted it, I bought it. Soon my purchases started getting out of hand. In my first month, I blew $100 thousand. My emails were flooded with financial advisors trying to take over my winnings. I turned them down until I realized I couldn’t control my spending. I hired the first person to email me, Jim Sylvester. He seemed like he wouldn’t scam me, so I took my chances.

Jim’s whole deal was that he didn’t want to ever have a meeting with me. I would just give him access to my account and he would set aside spending money each month. Things were going well, I was getting $20 thousand a month and I didn’t have to worry about other things.

Because of my riches, I decided to skip out on college. I would just live off of my lottery winnings for the rest of my life. I would have a relaxed, leisurely, smooth lifestyle and not have to work a day.

By the end of my first year with my millions, I had $200 million left. I knew I didn’t spend $6 million, but I trusted the process because of taxes and what not. My second year, I had $190 million left. Even this didn’t seem weird. I was spending at most $20 thousand a month, so I couldn’t have used up $10 million, but I blamed taxes for my increased loss.

Because of graduation, all of my friends had left to go onto college. I didn’t show it, but I was lonely. There was no one to befriend, to date. And everyday was starting to look the same. I’d wake up at 10, maybe have breakfast, play video games, maybe have lunch, play more video games, maybe eat dinner, play more video games, and sleep. I was 20 years old and living like I was 12. I felt like I had no one to talk to, no one to see. This sounds petty, but my life sucked.

The only thing that made me feel in control was buying expensive things. I felt powerful being able to spend so much money on something that I didn’t need. As the year came to an end, I checked my bank account to see that I had no money left. Not a single penny. I knew I certainly didn’t spend $190 million, but who else had access to my account? Jim Sylvester. He took it all. Every. Last. Bit. I was ruined, and I had no one to blame but myself. I couldn’t pay off the mansion, and it was foreclosed. I lost all connection with my mom, so I had nowhere to stay. All of the power I gave myself due to my wealth was gone.

I moved myself onto the streets, officially hitting rock bottom. Word got out about my situation and I became the laughing stock of my town. Every time someone saw me they would curse at me, mock me, and just be plain mean. After I got rich I treated people terribly, and this was my payback. At one point I couldn’t take the ridicule and picked myself up and started off for the city. Plenty of homeless there, I would blend in. Since I lost everything I had to walk. It took days but I managed to show up and just sit down. I didn’t even bother with a sign. I couldn’t bring myself to beg for money. My troubles were even worse there. People still knew me, and the hate didn’t stop. But, life goes on.

So that’s where I am today. Sitting here, cold, covered in dirt, and poor. Despite my struggles, I’m happier than ever. No money worries, just me, myself, and I. I found myself, and I discovered that I didn’t need fame, or riches, or anything to be truly content in life. Now I see hobo as an encouraging word. A word that encompasses my current life position, but not my future. And I know that the best is yet to come.