When I was 15, my grandfather died. We were very close and he left me his inheritance knowing how much I dreamed of going to college. This money was enough to cover all my studies.
Once I turned 19, it was time to apply. But when I checked my account, there wasn’t a cent! My parents told me they spent all the money to pay off my brother’s loan and invested money in building a house. I was left broken! I couldn’t handle their betrayal and made the choice to leave.
I didn’t communicate with them after that. But after a couple of years, my brother called me and my jaw dropped. He told me that my parents
…had lost everything.
The “investment” in the house had gone belly-up — turns out, the contractor they hired ran off with a big chunk of their money, and the property was never completed. On top of that, my brother’s loan still wasn’t fully paid off because they had only covered part of it before interest piled back on.
Now, they were living in a tiny rental, drowning in debt, and asking if I could “help them out” since I had “such a good job now.”
I told him straight: The money Grandpa left me was supposed to be my help. They’d stolen my future, and I had built myself back up without them.
They called me selfish. I called it karma.
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