Six Years of Lies in One Empty Bank Card

Summary

The year I start 7th grade, my parents sit my brother and me down and hand us each a bank card.

"This is your college fund. We've put 100,000 dollars in each account.

"The PIN is your birthday. Don't touch it unless you absolutely have to."

I listen to them, treating that card like something sacred. I never even buy a single new outfit. When my canvas shoes wear through, I glue the soles back together and keep wearing them.

I tell myself that as long as I'm responsible enough, I'll deserve the "fairness" my parents promise us.