The Lottery of My Mother's Love

My mother always said my whole life was built on sheer luck.
When I got first place on an exam, shed say, Youre a good guesser.
When I won a gold medal, it was, The judges must have been blind.
When I was accepted into Kingston University, she told everyone we knew, The girl has no real talent. Shes just lucky!
So, on my first day of school, she handed me a book of scratch-off tickets.
Since youre so lucky, she said with a thin smile, you can rely on luck for your living expenses.
You get one book per semester. Whatever you scratch is what you get. Thats fate.
And just to make sure you dont come crying to me when youre broke, Im blocking you. Ill add you back next semester.
And with that, ignoring my desperate pleas on the other end of the line, she blocked all of my numbers.
Left with no other choice, I started scratching two tickets a day. On a good day, Id win twenty, maybe fifty dollars. Most days, I won nothing.
I survived by secretly fishing my roommates expired cookies out of the trash can.
During the last week of the semester, I was severely anemic.
As I used the last of my strength to scratch the final ticket, I had to laugh.
My mother was right. I really was lucky.

My vision swam with black spots; everything had a double image.
The book of five-dollar scratch-offs my mother had given me was like a countdown to my own demise, and only one ticket remained.
The thirty dollars Id won before had been stretched to its absolute limit, even living on nothing but steamed buns and pickled vegetables. Two weeks was all it could last.
My stomach felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, cramping with a dull, persistent ache.
I called my mother, clinging to one last sliver of hope, but reality slapped me with a bucket of ice water.
Still blocked. She hadnt unblocked me.
Desperate, I borrowed a phone from a student I didnt know and dialed her number again.
Mom
Before I could say another word, her sharp, cruel voice cut through the line.
If I remember correctly, you still have one ticket left, dont you? Dont come crying to me about being broke. Im not falling for it! If youre so capable, then use that same luck you used to get into college and win scholarships!
The line went dead. I tried calling back, but the phone was turned off.
The last scratch-off ticket felt heavy in my hand. I was terrified to scratch it, terrified that it would be another loser.
When I started the semester, I was a healthy weight. Now, I was severely malnourished. At five-foot-five, I weighed only eighty pounds. The veins showed blue through my translucent skin.
I got back to my dorm room. It was empty.
My steps were unsteady as I shuffled toward the trash can. It had become a habit, checking to see if my roommates had thrown out any leftovers or expired food. It was how I had survived most of the semester.
Just as I started digging through the trash, the door swung open.
Ugh, Zoe, are you digging through the trash again? Thats disgusting.
My roommate Danas voice made my face burn with shame. I snatched my hand back as if the bin were red-hot.
Her eyes fell on the scratch-off tickets on my desk, and understanding dawned, followed by undisguised contempt.
I seriously dont get you. How can you have such a bad gambling addiction? Youd rather dig through trash for food than stop buying those things!
Even if you love scratching tickets, couldnt you at least get a part-time job to feed yourself?
Whatever. I guess its just my bad luck to be stuck in a room with someone like you.
With that, Dana glanced at the last bite of cake in her hand, tossed it into the trash, and walked out.
I was dizzy with hunger, my head buzzing. I didn't have the energy to wonder if her act was one of pity or humiliation. I pounced on the trash can like a starving animal and retrieved the piece of cake.
I devoured it, shoving it into my mouth. Hot tears streamed down my face, mixing with the cake crumbs, creating a taste that was both salty and bitter.
I couldnt blame her for thinking that. She didnt know that before school even started, my mother had printed flyers with my face on them and distributed them to every shop around campus with a single instruction: Do not hire this girl for part-time work.
She had cut off all my escape routes.
Isnt she lucky? Then let her rely on luck to eat, my mother had said. I wondered if her face held the same mocking expression as Danas.
I had tried to explain countless times that it wasnt luck. Every award, every accomplishment, was the result of my own hard work.
But she never believed me.
To her, everything I achieved was just luck. Two simple words that erased all of my effort.
The last bite of cake settled in my stomach, and the dizziness subsided slightly. My eyes returned to the final scratch-off ticket on my desk.
I made my decision.
With trembling hands, I began to scratch. As the silver coating peeled away, my heart sank with it.
Until the very last line. The prize amount: $20.
My heart died completely. That meant I had to survive on twenty dollars until my mother gave me a new book of tickets next semester.
Clutching the ticket, I left the dorm to cash it at the lottery stand outside the campus gates. I had just stepped out of the building when I heard the stern voice of my academic advisor behind me.
Zoe Miller!
I turned. When he saw the scratch-off ticket in my hand, the disappointment on his face deepened.
Someone told me about this, but I didnt want to believe it. You got into this university with one of the top ten entrance scores in the state. How could you become obsessed with games of chance?
Look at your grades now. Youre failing almost every class! You are a profound disappointment!
Consider this conversation a warning. If you continue down this path, I will have no choice but to follow university regulations and recommend your expulsion.
I stood there under the blazing sun, listening to his lecture. The energy from that single bite of cake was already gone. I started to sway.
Zoe?! His expression shifted from anger to alarm. Are you alright?
He glanced at my skeletal hands and sighed.
Let me take you to the cafeteria to get something to eat. And please, stop spending your food money on lottery tickets. You cant live your life waiting for a miracle.
I didnt refuse his offer. At this point, anyone who gave me a meal was my savior. Dignity? Pride? They were worthless when you were starving.
I hadnt eaten a proper meal from the cafeteria all semester. Id only ever bought plain steamed buns and drank the free hot water. I had no energy to pay attention in class; the words on the blackboard swam before my eyes like tadpoles. My grades had plummeted, and my pride was in pieces.
After devouring the meal, I felt much better. I could walk without stumbling, and my mind felt clearer.
I thanked my advisor and turned to leave, but he stopped me, his brow furrowed. Where are you going?
I held up the crumpled ticket. To cash this in. Otherwise I wont have anything to eat.
Zoe! he exclaimed, his anger returning. Have you already forgotten everything I just said?
Or are you deliberately defying me? Do you want to be expelled? I shouldnt have bought you that meal. Maybe if you truly starved, youd understand the gravity of the situation!
Give me that ticket. Its time to cut your losses!
He held out his hand, his expression demanding and unyielding.
I quickly hid the ticket behind my back. Sir, I really cant give this to you. You dont understand.
He slammed his hand on the table. Youre a lost cause! Im telling you right now, if you dont hand it over, I will go back to my office and issue a formal demerit and disciplinary action against you!
I lowered my head, my nails digging into my palms. After a moment of internal struggle, I bowed to him.
Im sorry, sir. I really cant.
Ignoring his shouts behind me, I turned and ran towards the lottery stand as fast as my weak legs could carry me.
The woman at the counter took my ticket and rolled her eyes.
Seriously, what an addict, she muttered. Wasting her parents hard-earned money like this.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. If I told her this ticket was my living expense, the only thing keeping me alive, shed probably think I was even crazier.
QR code, she said impatiently, holding up her phone.
I took out my own phone, its screen a spiderweb of cracks, and was about to open my payment app when a thought struck me.
Suddenly, I didnt want to cash it in anymore.
Ive changed my mind, I heard myself say. Id like to exchange it for a new one.
The woman gave me a massive, undisguised eye-roll, then tore off another five-dollar ticket and threw it on the counter. Hopeless. How did Kingston University ever accept a student like this?
I had heard words like that so many timesfrom my roommate, from strangers, from herthat they no longer stung.
I took the new ticket, thanked her, and turned to leave without scratching it.
I hadnt taken more than a few steps when my phone rang. The screen displayed a single word: Mom. I froze. That name felt like a relic from another lifetime.
Hello? I answered just before the call ended.
Her sharp, acidic voice immediately filled my ear. Hmph. I thought you had too much pride to answer my calls.
You should be done with the book of tickets I gave you. How much did you win on the last one?
Twenty dollars, I said truthfully.
The sarcasm in her voice deepened. Tsk. I guess you really are lucky. Youre not dead yet.
I couldnt take it anymore.
Mom, do you have any idea how Ive been surviving this semester? On handouts from my roommate and scraps I find in the trash! If my advisor hadnt bought me a meal today, I would have collapsed and ended up in the hospital!
I thought hearing about my suffering might change her mind.
Instead, she laughed. So? Are you trying to brag about how lucky you are to have a nice roommate and a kind advisor?
Zoe, Im trying to teach you a lesson! You cant rely on handouts!
If you can get into Kingston on luck, then you can certainly eat a full meal on luck. It shouldnt be that hard, should it?
Tears burst from my eyes. I screamed into the phone, my voice raw with pain. I got into Kingston, I won those competitions, because I worked for it! I never once said I got in because I was lucky!
My outburst only made her more impatient.
Stop pretending. Hard work? I gave birth to you; I know exactly what youre made of. When I was pregnant with you, I deliberately fell down a few times and couldnt even get rid of you. If thats not luck, what is?
Her words froze the blood in my veins. It was the first time she had ever said it so plainly, so cruelly.
I had heard the whispers from relatives. When she was pregnant, a village doctor told her she was having a girl, and she didnt want me. Abortion techniques werent as advanced back then. She didnt have the courage to go through with it, so she gave birth to me. But the delivery was difficult, and she had to have a hysterectomy. She could never have another child. Because of that, my father divorced her.
All the pieces clicked into place. Rage and grief exploded inside me.
If I had known Id be living off scratch-off tickets, do you think I would have chosen to be born?
Now youre complaining? she sneered. Fine. From now on, Ill buy you the two-dollar tickets instead.
Since youre so lucky, itll save me some money!
With a sharp click, she hung up. She had probably blocked me again.
I walked back to my dorm in a daze and stared at the new ticket for a long time. Finally, I gathered my courage and began to scratch.
The first line: nothing.
The second line: nothing.
The third nothing.
With only the last line left, I closed my eyes and scraped randomly at the ticket. After a long moment, I opened them, my hands trembling.
I had won. The prize box read $500,000!
A storm of emotions swirled in my chest, but overwhelming it all was a wave of pure, unadulterated joy.
The grand prize had to be claimed at the central lottery office. Wasting no time, I shot out of my room and started running. Thankfully, it wasnt far from the university. I didnt have money for a bus, but I made it there in half an hour on foot.
Even as the money was transferred into my account, it felt like a dream. I stared at the string of numbers on my banking app, tears streaming down my face.
I went to the most expensive restaurant in the city and ate until I was full. The other patrons stared at me, at my skeletal frame and ravenous eating, like I was a ghost back from the dead.
My mother was right. I really was lucky.
After wandering the city all day, I returned to my dorm to the sound of my phone ringing. It was her.
Zoe, darling, did you win the lottery?
The affectionate nickname sent a shiver down my spine. I couldnt remember the last time shed called me that. Even when I got into Kingston, her reaction had been lukewarm at best.
Win what? I dont know what youre talking about.
Her tone immediately soured. Zoe Miller, dont you play games with me! I saw it on the news! A grand prize scratch-off was claimed in the city today. I recognized your back in the photo! Id recognize you even if you were a pile of ash.
I cursed myself. In my excitement, I had only thought about claiming the prize and getting a hot meal. I had forgotten to disguise myself.
Youre mistaken. It wasnt me.
I hung up before she could reply. She called again and again, but I didnt answer. Finally, I blocked her number.
I thought that would be the end of it.
The next morning, I was shaken awake by Dana. Zoe, get up! Something terrible has happened!
Her next words jolted me fully awake.
Your mother is on the roof of the science building. She says if you dont come to see her, shes going to jump!
All sleepiness vanished. I leaped out of bed and ran outside, still in my pajamas, my hair a mess.
I am here to expose my daughter, Kingston University student Zoe Miller! my mothers voice shrieked from above. She has always been a gambler, relying on luck, with no respect for her own mother!
And now that shes won the lottery, she wants to cut me off! Does a student like this deserve to be at Kingston?
Even though it was early, the campus was already dotted with students on their morning jogs. Everyone stopped to watch the spectacle. Some people cursed my name, some looked on with envy, but most just watched with the detached curiosity of a crowd at a circus.
I looked up at the crazed figure of my mother on the rooftop. I opened my mouth to shout for her to come down, but the words died in my throat.
She said I was a gambler. Fine. This time, Id bet on her. Id bet she didnt have the guts to jump.
I turned and walked away from the crowd, back to my dorm. I sat down at my desk and wrote an application for an overseas research program.
I won the bet.

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