I Was Born In Prison, But I Became A Millionaire At Age 18 | This is my story
- Published: 08 January 2020
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Hello, everybody. My name's Bobby and I'm an 18-year-old millionaire. But even though I have a big house and a family right now, my life started behind bars. But what's even crazier is the way in which I became a millionaire.
My mom was an addict and she was sentenced for 3 years for robbing a jewelry store. Four months into serving her sentence, I was born. Even though I don’t remember much about it, the idea of being born in prison always haunted me. I felt like I was destined to have this life, to repeat my parent’s mistake. Maybe because of this mindset, I did repeat them. I repeated them until I reached rock bottom.
It all started in foster home. My mom, not being able to care for me, gave me up to this overcrowded foster home. A couple of times I got close to being adopted, but something would always come up - the family would change their mind, they’d pick another kid. I felt like I was being cursed, so I gave up hope. I decided that I gotta take care of myself. I was 14-15 when I got involved with some street gangs. I’m not proud of it, but I think in some ways, I was searching for somebody that I could call family. In one of our parties, I met a girl… This wonderful woman that would eventually turn my life around. Her name was Michelle, she was 20 at the time, she was beautiful and funny. And we fell in love instantly. Both of us were struggling with addiction. It felt like it was a battle we were both losing, but at least we had each other. We were squatting in this old apartment building when I got the news of my lifetime.
That day I was lying on an old mattress when I heard her screaming in the bathroom. I ran to the door, knocking on it like crazy and saying, “What happened, love?” She opened the door, tears running down her face. I looked down and my heart dropped. She was holding a pregnancy test. It was positive. We were sitting on this old stained mattress together, looking around the flat - some guys were shouting in another room, arguing about some shady deal. We looked at each other and said, “We have to get our shit together. We have to get out of here.” I never had a proper family, I had no idea how to be a father or a husband, I didn’t have legit job experience, but I knew that I’ll do whatever it takes to bring up this child.
The next five months were really difficult. I was searching for a job, any job, really. I was cleaning other peoples’ houses, I was doing plumbing just to get enough for our small apartment rent. We were getting by, but barely when another tragedy struck. It was late evening, I just got back from work. I was dirty, sweaty, tired. I started undressing and going in the shower when I saw something lying on the floor. I walked up to check and that’s when it hit me. It wasn’t something, it was someone. It was Michelle! She was unconscious, barely breathing. I knew that calling in an emergency will cost me a lot, but I didn’t care. I called 911 and we got to the hospital.
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