The lottery drawing came on, and I remembered my ticket. I pulled it out, expecting the usual disappointment of maybe matching one number, if I was lucky. The first number matched.
Then the second. By the third match, I was sitting up straight, heart beginning to race. Fourth number, match.
Fifth, match. When the final number matched, I literally stopped breathing. I checked and rechecked the numbers, convinced I was misreading something.
But there it was. All six numbers. According to the announcer, the jackpot was $2.5 million.
I sat in stunned silence for nearly 30 minutes, staring alternately at the ticket and the television. Eventually, I took a photo of the ticket, then placed it in a Ziploc bag and tucked it into my copy of Pride and Prejudice on my bookshelf, the safest place I could think of at that moment. My hands shook as I called my best friend, Rachel.
You need to come over. Now. And I’m not joking or exaggerating, I managed to say.
Rachel arrived 20 minutes later, clearly worried. What’s wrong? Are you okay? Wordlessly, I showed her the ticket and the numbers I’d written down from the broadcast. Holy shit, she whispered, eyes widening.
Mackenzie, holy shit. Is it real? I asked, my voice small. Can you check the numbers again? I’m afraid I’m hallucinating.
She pulled out her phone and looked up the winning numbers, comparing them to my ticket. It’s real. Oh my God, it’s real.
You just won $2.5 million. That night was a blur of disbelief, elation and fear. Rachel stayed over and we talked until sunrise about possibilities, about what this could mean for my life.
For the first time, I could pay off my student loans entirely. I could buy a house, not just any house, but a beautiful home with a yard. I could invest, travel, donate to causes I cared about.
The next morning, I called in sick to work and contacted the state lottery commission. They confirmed I needed to come to their headquarters to verify the ticket and begin the claim process. Rachel drove me as I was too nervous to get behind the wheel.
At the lottery office, officials verified my ticket and identity, explained the process, and informed me about my options. A lump sum payment, less after taxes, but immediately available or annuity payments over several years. They also arranged for a ceremonial big check photo opportunity, though they explained the actual funds would be processed through their department and would take approximately two weeks.
As I posed for photos with the oversized check, the reality finally started to sink in. My life had changed forever in an instant, but I had no idea how it would test my relationships and reveal truths about my family that I had always suspected but never wanted to confirm. With the initial verification complete and the ceremonial photos taken, I returned home with a folder full of paperwork, a copy of the novelty check for my records, and a head spinning with possibilities.
The lottery officials had strongly advised keeping my windfall private until the funds were secured and proper financial and security measures were in place. Winners often find themselves besieged by long lost relatives, investment, opportunities, and charity cases, the lottery representative had warned. Consider carefully who you tell and when.
I knew she was right, but I also felt a strange obligation to tell my family. Despite our complicated relationship, they were still my parents. And despite the favoritism, Brooke was still my sister.
Part of me, a part I’m not proud of, also wanted them to see that I had succeeded in this unexpected way. Maybe now they would finally see me. After a few days of deliberation, I decided to share my news during Sunday dinner at my parents’ house, a monthly tradition I maintained more out of duty than enjoyment.
I arrived early, helping my mother prepare the meal while mentally rehearsing how I would tell them. You seem different today, my mother observed, eyeing me as she chopped vegetables. Did something happen at work? You could say something happened, I replied, unable to suppress a small smile.