I grew up in a inferior family: when I was only 2 years old, my father left the family. I do not know why, but my mom always loved my older sister – and gave her gingerbread, and me – only filed. This is how my childhood and school years lasted. I was constantly reproached with an extra piece of bread, loosened the most unpleasant and thankless work, and I dreamed when I finally finished school and give up to study and go to the city. For this purpose, I was careful even at night, and my efforts were not in vain. Introduction to the university was wireless, then my mother did not even ask where I went, where my hostel was, just sighed: “Finally, I got my mind, and then everything was in my hands! »Having arrived after the first year in the village, I realized that no one was waiting for me there, so when he met with several friends, he rolled again into the hostel. 5 years flew unnoticed. I called my mother, greet her on her birthday and New Year, but instead of gratitude, she always learned if I had any income to help her and my sister. I did not have income then except for the increased scholarship. In the city, it diverged very quickly, and I could not list anything for which they were very offended.

Already when he began to work, her mother began to “throw a fishing rod” again with questions about my abundance. I sent them small translations, but not often. The shooting of the apartment pulled a considerable amount from my salary, but my family decided that I just did not want to communicate with them, and after 4 years I really lost interest in them. They never wondered if I had enough money for the most elementary, stereotype “lives in the city – so the rich” did his black business in their mind. The sister married a villager, gave birth to two children, divorced, married again, gave birth again, and divorced again. Probably, men could not get along with her. Knowing her glass character, I was not surprised. The notarized letter fell like snow on my head. Visiting the office and talking to a notary, I learned that my father’s father, my father, decided to leave me after his death in his house in the suburbs. I do not know what I liked so much, because my father, who I did not remember at all, was a direct heir, and I would never know at the meeting. Most likely, he told his mother about my inheritance.

Seeing my mother’s number on the phone, I was surprised to be her first call to me. However, it was surprisingly passed when I heard that the Svetlana, my sister, needs to help with housing. The mother wanted me to sell a house and gave money to my sister to buy an apartment. It was not included in my plans, which I told my mother. For a long time she tried to persuade me, called my sister, complained about her unhappy life, and when I asked if she knew how I lived all these years, my sister suddenly fell silent and wisely swore: “You never loved me!” As she asked her counter questions about her sister love for me, she heard short beeps in the phone … Six months later, I entered the right of inheritance, then successfully sold a house, and before our marriage with Natasha we already had our own two -room apartment, in which we live now. And I do not communicate with my mother and sister. They could not forgive me that I got an apartment, not paying attention to their requests and requirements – to give their inheritance.