A Life of Change- Book 1: From Rich to Poor- part 1 | Teen Ink

A Life of Change- Book 1: From Rich to Poor- part 1

April 19, 2010
By smiley10507 PLATINUM, Fairview Heights, Illinois
smiley10507 PLATINUM, Fairview Heights, Illinois
22 articles 5 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Don't put off 'til tomorrow what you can do today for today is yesterday's tomorrow."


For the first time in 5 years I realized that being a somebody isn’t a good thing. The “somebody”- ness just got me into even more trouble than before. Now that these dead monster things chase me around everywhere, I don’t know what to do.

As I stared into the saurischian’s eye, it said, “Sophia, you have to help me! If you don’t the grave diggers will come get me and take me back to Plutorium.”


Oh wait, maybe I should back this story up a little bit. Maybe back to the beginning. This may make a little bit more sense. See, this is why June is the smart one, not me. June’s my best friend. Or, was my best friend, anyway. Here, let me start right before everything turned... different.



“Sophia! Get you’re butt up, it’s time for school!” my mom called. You see, I got to this private school. You can, like, never be tardy, “or else.” I’ve already been late 4 times this year; one more and I’ll be suspended for a week.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back. I hate going to that school. It’s full of rich, stuck up snobs. Sure I’m rich, but I’m not a snob. I’m actually filthy rich; the richest in the school! My mom has some kinda job that I’m not allowed to know about. My dad? He’s just a lazy bum who sits around and does nothing all day.

At school, everything’s the same as normal. I’m around rich, stuck up snobs.

“Hey Sophia, can I borrow some money, seeing as how your family has surplus amounts of it?” says Rachel, one of the most stuck up, snobby people in the school. She always asks for money that she knows I can’t give her then she gets all smart on me when she knows I don’t understand it.

“A, no. B, what does ‘surplus’ even mean?” I responded, trying to match up to her sass.

“What? I seriously need money for lunch. My parents are gone for the month again,” Rachel pleaded.

“Rachel, I don’t know why you’re even asking. I’m not giving you money,” I retorted. She always tries to make me feel sorry for her.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up, rich jerk all the time?” Rachel asked me. Oh, I’m the stuck up jerk? Try vice versa.

“Oh, I’m the jerk? Try vice versa!” I said. Then she walked away.

“Why do you see her as the jerk? You’re the jerk,” June, my BFF said. I hadn’t noticed she’d been standing there the whole time.

“Ya, she’s the jerk,” I respond. “She’s always asking for money and talking all smart to me when she knows I don’t understand.

“Maybe because she’s one of the poorest in the school and you SHOULD understand what she says,” June told me. “You know, one of these days everything’s gonna be turned around and you’re gonna be the poor one.” Little did I know she was completely right.

“Yeah right,” I said. Man was I ignorant then.

Then all the sudden over the intercom comes “Sophia Castellan, please report to the office. Sophia Castellan, please report to the office.”

“Man, what do they want?”


So I go to office and my mom’s there!

“Ma, what do you want?” I asked her. You see, my mom is completely uninvolved in my life. Seeing her at school is unnatural.

“Honey I have bad news,” she said. Oh lord... This can’t be good. And it wasn’t. It was the worst news I’d ever gotten. “I lost my job and most of my money. I can’t afford to send you to this school anymore.”

“But ma, I have to go to this school!” I yelled. I couldn’t just leave my friends and my life!

“Sorry, I can’t afford it,” she insisted. “It’s too expensive for me now.”

“No!” I screamed. “I can’t leave here! I can’t leave all my friends!”

“Well there is one more option,” The secretary said. I didn’t even know she was listening.

“What is it? I’ll do anything!” Boy did I not know what I was signing myself up for.

“Like Rachel Yelschetti currently does, if you can get and maintain good grades, as in A’s and B’s, not F’s, then you can stay,” the secretary bargained.

“Sure, sure! Anything! I’ll work harder and get excellent grades!” I exclaimed with absolute delight. That was going to be hard. Not only was I not smart, but I also get straight F’s with a D- in P.E.

“Are you sure, honey? That’s a big promise to make, especially for you. I mean your report card sounds like a stutter. F-f-f-f-f-f D-!” mom said. See, completely unsupportive, although that’s completely true.

“I’m sure! I can do it if I work harder!” I agreed. At that moment, all I wanted was to stay in this school.

“Ok, I’ll put you on that plan,” says the desk secretary lady.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said.

I was just about to run out the door when the desk clerky person type thing said, “Just remember, if you get 1 grade lower than a C on a report card, you’re out of this school until your mom can afford it again.”


So then the end of the day comes. It was so tiring. I’ve never worked so hard in my life. But at least I realized one thing. I can’t add numbers bigger than 400. I so need to start working harder. No wonder I fail all my classes.

“How was you’re first day of working hard?” called my mom from the kitchen. I think, for the first time ever, she was cooking! The maids and chefs must’ve left with their last paycheck.

“Horrible!” I responded, walking into the kitchen. “I’ve never worked so hard in my life. In English we had to read a whole chapter of a book I’ve never even heard of. Apparently we’ve been reading it for like 3 months or something. Math, we had to multiply these things called polynomials. I have no idea what those even are. Apparently we’ve been learning them for a week! Social studies, I mean, who cares about history? Science was just math all over again. And Spanish was just English except everything was in a foreign language or something!”

“Sounds like you had a hard day,” she said sympathetically. By the way, today was the day I finally learned what “sympathetically” meant.

“I did!” I retorted. Man, was I ticked off!

“Well, the more you do it,” ma said, “the more you get used to it.”

“Whatever,” I sassed. “I’m goin’ up to my room to do this thing called ‘homework’.”

Ya, well, um. I did my homework and it was so hard. I never did my homework. I always paid people to do it. But now since I have no money, I can’t do that! Ugh! Life as a poor person sucks!


Later that night, June texted me.

“hey. wat did da office want?” She asked.

“my mom was there,” I responded.

“y?” questioned her.

“parently ma had sumthin 2 say. gimme 5 min and i tell u da hole story,” I told her.

“k,” she responds.

“k so parently my ma lost her job and uk my dad a lazy bum. now we hav no money. No money means no super xpensive private skool. so i was called 2 da office so she culd tak me home. And now I get 2 stay @ da skool IF I keep my grades up, as n no c’s. i cant take it! it 2 hard!”

“well, if u tried harder n the beginin mayb it wuldnt b 2 hard,” said she.

“ya rite,” I said.

“well good luck stayin n dat skool. hav fun n public skool,” June said. She's unsupportive, just like my mom. Well I guess it’s just since I've never tried hard, not a day in my life. Until now, anyways.

“thnx lots...” I snorted. But seriously, how am I supposed to survive? All I know is being lazy!


When I finally finished my incredibly hard homework, I went downstairs to find my mother crying her eyes out. I still haven’t learned a shorter word for that yet.

“Ma, what’s wrong?” I inquired.

All she did was hand me a note. It had my father’s handwriting on it. Trust me; I’d know his handwriting anywhere. Here’s what it said:

Rosalina, dear. I’m sorry, but now that you’ve
lost all your money and can’t support a family, I
will not be you’re husband anymore. I went and
found a lawyer and a new wife. I left the divorce papers
on the counter. Please sign and return to Jack Fredrickson,
Law Attorney. He told me to tell you that if you had
any questions to take it to court. But since you can’t
since you’re so poor now, don’t even bother. I never want to see you
again . I never loved you, only your money. I just thought
I’d tell you the truth. I’ve moved on. I wish you luck being poor.
Sincerely, Jack Castellan.


“I can’t believe he did that to you!” I said.

“I can. But I, unlike you, knew he only loved my money, not me,” she sighed. “But still, I loved him.”

“Whatever, it’s still not right,” I said. I can’t believe my father left my mother!



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