My family declared bankruptcy this year and our house is being sold as collateral. I'm seventeen. The first time I saved a hundred dollars I wrote it on a piece of paper. I counted how many pennies and quarters I had individually, the stacks of dimes and nickels. I wrapped the bills in a hair-tie. I was eleven, and had just gotten back from a trip to the grocery store where I found two dimes, three pennies, and a five dollar bill on the ground. A total of $5.23. My parents never made money seem scarce, had done everything in their power to ensure I never wondered where things came from. To never shy away from dreaming and asking for more because it would come to me. I was thirteen when the guilt of spending seeped into my life. My siblings never cared, always asking my parents for money. Whether it was to go to the movies, or shop at a mall, or to cover lunch with their friends. They asked and they received because my parents didn't have the heart to say no. I don't blame my siblings, because my mother never told them our situation. She did tell me, however, when I noticed the wrinkles on her face deepening and her exhaustion prevalent in her perfume choices. She told me everything. All the things she couldn't tell her sons and couldn't argue with my father about anymore. I saved birthday money from relatives, babysitting and dog-walking. I did odd jobs. The first time I reached a thousand, I had to flip that piece of paper over. I had written and crossed out too many numbers on the front. I didn't take money out for anything. I kept it all in a tiny plastic container under my nightstand. When I reached high school, I began thrifting. Belts, jackets, shirts, jeans. I haven't bought new shoes that didn't have names already engraved on their backs until my seventeenth birthday. I handmade gifts, I wrote letters and poems to my friends as a presents. That was until I realized how cheap it looked, like a last minute innovation. I began a budget of birthday money to give to others so they could buy something worthwhile. I allotted money for gas before I had a car. Money for school projects and hobbies. To go out to lunch and not make anyone spend a cent on me. I haven't my parents for anything but permission, knowing my siblings would instead. Anything I could do to ease their worries I did. I was sixteen when I saved a thousand for retirement and five thousand in my bank account. My entire life I've conserved, I've been responsible. I've done mental math on every transaction and every outing where my pockets came back lighter. I don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking of money like a caloric intake, a decisive limit with consequences for going over. I don't want my parents to worry about me when they eventually can't work anymore. I plan to enter the career of law for its stability and mobility. I have plans to start my paralegal certification program my first year of college so I can enter specialize programs my sophomore year, and land steady internships and part time positions my junior and senior. This will help me save for law school and budget my necessities. I don't want to be rich. I just want to see money as anything but a shackle that weighs like a life sentence. Something not soaked in tears.