My Parents Gave Me $10,000 to Pay for College — I Was Shocked to Find Out What They Wanted in Return
I am about to graduate high school and I have been applying to universities and going on tours. My parents decided to gift me $10,000 to cover college costs. I was excited about this gift until they told me what they wanted in return. I refused their terms and walked away but now they are calling me ungrateful.
Parents giving cash gift to daughter | Source: Getty Images
Growing up in a small state with big dreams, I always envisioned my future in New York pursuing my dreams. My vibrant brushstrokes, which had been a part of me almost all my life, kept my dream going.
My room was a kaleidoscope of colors, filled to the brim with paintings that spoke volumes of my journey through high school. I won art competitions and its perks were evident in the array of accolades adorning my walls.
A young woman painting | Source: Getty Images
But art wasn’t just about the trophies; it was about the stories behind each brushstroke, each piece holding a piece of my heart. Among these masterpieces, a subtle hint of my side gig lingered, paintings created with love, for lovers, whispering tales of romance and passion.
A room with framed artwork | Source: Getty Images
Painting was more than a hobby to me, it was my passion and my identity. My parents, on the other hand, saw it as a fleeting interest, something that would never sustain a ‘real’ career. They encouraged me to explore more ‘practical’ fields, but my heart was set on pursuing an art degree in New York, a city that pulsed with creativity and opportunity.
A woman painting her room | Source: Getty Images
One evening, amidst my college applications and tours, the dinner table conversation started off innocently enough. My parents had a surprise for me, a gesture so generous it left me speechless. “We’ve decided to give you $10,000 to help pay for college,” my mom announced, her smile as warm as the summer sun.
I was over the moon. “Thank you so much! This means I can apply to my dream art schools in New York!” I exclaimed, visions of bustling city streets and inspiring art galleries dancing in my head.
A happy daughter receiving cash gift from parents | Source: Getty Images
But the warmth quickly faded as my dad cleared his throat, signaling the onset of conditions I hadn’t anticipated. “There are two rules,” he said sternly. “First, you can’t leave the state for university. And second, you can only choose from the degrees we approve of — medicine or law. We don’t think an art degree is the right path for you.”
My heart sank. “But I’ve been painting my whole life. You know how much this means to me,” I countered, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
A daughter sad at her parents terms | Source: Getty Images
“We’re doing this for your own good, Ruth. Stop being ungrateful. We just want you to have a secure future,” my mom chimed in, her voice softer but no less firm.
The argument that ensued was not just heated; it was a clash of dreams and practicalities, each word sharp with the tension of unmet expectations. “How can you call it help if it comes with strings that strangle my dreams?” I cried out, my voice cracking under the strain of emotion. My parents, steadfast in their stance, responded with equal fervor.
A mother repremanding daughter | Source: Getty Images
“Ruth, we’re not trying to strangle your dreams, that is an ungrateful thing to say. We’re trying to ensure you have a future that’s not dependent on whims,” my dad countered, his tone laced with frustration and concern.
“Art isn’t a whim! It’s who I am. Don’t you understand? By restricting me to medicine or law, you’re asking me to give up a part of myself,” I shot back, desperation creeping into my voice. Each word felt like a plea for them to see me, to really see the person I was and the dreams I harbored.
Very upset parents scolding their daughter | Source: Getty Images
My mom sighed, her usual composure faltering. “We’ve seen too many struggles in fields like art. We don’t want that life for you. Can’t you see we’re doing this out of love?”
“But love shouldn’t come with conditions that force me into a mold I don’t fit,” I argued, my heart aching with the need to be understood. “I appreciate the gift, I really do. But if it means sacrificing my passion, my dreams, then what’s it worth? Isn’t my happiness and fulfillment important too?”
Angry father with daughter | Source: Getty Images
The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I stood there, feeling more alienated than ever. It was clear that the gap between us wasn’t just about the money or even about my career choice; it was about recognition, about them not validating my identity and aspirations.
Unable to bear the weight of their expectations and the pain of feeling so fundamentally misunderstood, I stormed out, the sound of my departure echoing through the house.
A daughter leaving home | Source: Getty Images
The door slammed shut behind me, a symbolic closure to a conversation that left me feeling more lost and alone than before. The gift that was meant to pave my way to the future now felt like chains binding me to a path I couldn’t walk, a future I couldn’t accept.
In the weeks that followed, I sought refuge at my friend’s place, a sanctuary where I could escape the stifling atmosphere of my home. It was a time of reflection and, surprisingly, of understanding. I realized that my parents’ intentions, albeit misguided, came from a place of love. They wanted me close, and safe in a career they deemed secure.
A sad daughter | Source: Getty Images
But a fire still burned within me, a desire to follow my dreams. I started working on a presentation, pouring my heart into every slide. I gathered testimonials from successful artists, statistics on the demand for creative professionals, and a detailed budget plan to manage my expenses beyond the $10,000 gift. My aim was to show not just the viability of an art degree but the depth of my commitment to my passion.
A daughter thinking about her future | Source: Getty Images
With the presentation ready, I reached out to my parents, asking for a chance to discuss my future. They agreed, and on the day of the meeting, a mix of nerves and determination filled me. As I walked into the hotel lobby to meet my parents, a knot tightened in my stomach, and my palms grew clammy with nerves.
Nervous woman walking | Source: Getty Images
Despite my determination, fear gnawed at me, whispering doubts and uncertainties. The weight of the impending conversation pressed heavily upon me, each step forward feeling like a leap into the unknown. Yet, amidst the fear, a flicker of hope persisted, driving me forward with the belief that this meeting could change everything.
Nervous daughter presenting to parents | Source: Getty Images
“Mom, Dad, I understand your concerns, but I need you to see things from my perspective,” I began, as soon as we were done with the pleasantries. Clicking through slides that represented my dreams and plans. I spoke of compromise, of understanding, of a future where passion and pragmatism could coexist.
A woman presenting | Source: Getty Images
“Pursuing art is not just an urge; it’s my passion, my calling. I need the freedom to explore this path fully,” I said meeting my parents’ gaze with determination.
Acknowledging their worries, I continued, “I know you want what’s best for me, and I appreciate that. So, here’s what I’m proposing, regular check-ins and updates on my progress. You’ll see firsthand how committed I am to making this work. Please, trust me to follow my dreams.”
Parents listening to their daughter | Source: Getty Images
As I talked, I saw the change in their expressions, from skepticism to contemplation, and finally, to understanding. “We never realized how much this meant to you,” my dad admitted, his voice softer than I’d heard in weeks. “Your presentation… it’s clear you’ve thought this through.”
Happy parents with daughter | Source: Getty Images
A Note from the Delivery Guy Made Me Install Security Cameras around My House – I’ll Forever Be Grateful to Him
The delivery guy’s scribbled note sent me rushing to my backyard trash cans, where I discovered something chilling. His cryptic warning may have saved my family from a terrifying fate, but the danger was far from over.
I often order food delivery when I’m too tired to cook for my kids. Over time, we grew close to Ravi, the delivery guy in our area. He’d always chat with Kai and Isla, high-fiving them before leaving. But last Tuesday night was different.
A food delivery man saddling up on his motorcycle | Source: Pexels
When Ravi arrived, he seemed very nervous. Fidgety. He shoved the food into my hands and bolted back to his car without a word.
“What’s up with Ravi?” Kai asked, peering out the window.
I shrugged, watching Ravi’s tail lights disappear down the street. “No idea, buddy. Maybe he’s in a hurry.”
As I brought the food into the kitchen, still puzzled by Ravi’s behavior, I noticed something on the back of the bag. Scrawled in shaky handwriting was a message that made me forget about dinner entirely.
Helpings of fast food laid out on a table | Source: Pexels
“CHECK YOUR TRASH CAN”
I set the food down and turned to my kids. “Hey, why don’t you two go wash up? I’ll get everything ready.”
Once they were out of sight, I bolted to the backyard. The message kept repeating in my head as I approached our trash cans. My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the first one.
A brightly-colored trash can in a backyard | Source: Pexels
Nothing unusual. Just our regular garbage. I moved to the second can, dread building with each step. I threw open the lid and froze.
Inside, wrapped in an old, dirty blanket, was a collection of gloves and what looked like a few small tools. At the bottom sat a bottle without a label, filled with some kind of liquid.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Isla’s voice startled me.
I slammed the lid shut and spun around, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sweetie. Just… checking something. Go on inside, I’ll be right there.”
A woman closing a trash can in a backyard at night | Source: Midjourney
As soon as Isla was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed the sheriff’s office.
“Sheriff’s Department, this is Leona speaking.”
“Leona, it’s Nora. I need you to come over right away. I found something concerning in my trash.”
“Slow down, Nora. What exactly did you find?”
I described the contents of the trash can, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t touch anything,” Leona said, her tone serious. “I’m on my way. Stay inside with your kids until I get there.”
A police officer on a call in a precinct | Source: Midjourney
I hung up and headed back inside. Our neighborhood had recently experienced a string of break-ins, all with eerily similar methods. Chemicals used to weaken locks, meticulous clean-up of any evidence.
It hit me: my house was being set up for the next break-in.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Kai asked as I entered the kitchen. “You look scared.”
I forced another smile. “Everything’s fine, honey. Let’s eat dinner, okay?”
A woman setting dinner for children at a table | Source: Pexels
We’d barely started eating when there was a knock at the door. I jumped up, but was relieved when I saw Leona through the peephole.
“Kids, stay here and finish your dinner,” I said, stepping outside to talk to Leona.
She listened intently as I recounted finding the items and Ravi’s strange behavior.
“You did the right thing calling me,” Leona said, her eyes scanning the street. “I’ll take a look at what’s in your trash and get it to the lab. In the meantime, I strongly recommend you beef up your security. Also, we’ll patrol the house all night, so in case they re-tool and still try to break in, we’ll nab them red-handed.”
A police officer smiling | Source: Pexels
I nodded, already planning my next move. “I’ll call a security company first thing in the morning.”
Leona placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Try to get some rest, Nora. We’ll figure this out.”
But sleep was the last thing on my mind that night. I spent hours researching security systems, jumping at every little sound outside. By morning, I was a jittery mess of caffeine and anxiety.
A woman working on a laptop computer at night | Source: Pexels
As soon as it hit 8 a.m., I called the first security company on my list. “Hi, I need cameras installed around my house. Today, if possible.”
“Ma’am, our earliest available slot is next week —”
“You don’t understand,” I cut in, my voice cracking. “I think someone’s planning to break into my home. I need those cameras now.”
There must’ve been something in my tone because the receptionist’s voice softened. “Let me see what I can do. Can you hold for a moment?”
A woman on a call in a work environment | Source: Pexels
After what felt like an eternity, she came back on the line. “We’ve had a cancellation. Our team can be there in two hours. Will that work?”
I nearly cried with relief. “Yes, thank you. Thank you so much.”
The next few hours were a blur. I called in sick to work, kept the kids home from school, and paced the house until the security team arrived.
A security camera installed on a wall | Source: Pexels
As they worked, installing cameras and explaining the system to me, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every car that drove by, every person walking their dog, they all seemed suspicious now.
Just as the security team was finishing up, Leona’s patrol car pulled into my driveway. She got out, her face grim.
“Nora, can we talk inside?”
A parked police patrol vehicle | Source: Pexels
My stomach lurched as I led her into the house. “Kids, why don’t you go play in your rooms for a bit?”
Once they were out of earshot, Leona spoke. “The lab results came back on those items we found. The liquid in the bottle? It’s a powerful corrosive, often used to weaken locks.”
I sank onto the couch, my legs suddenly weak. “So it’s true. They were planning to break in.”
Leona nodded. “It looks that way. But Nora, you’ve done everything right. You’ve got cameras now, you’re aware of the threat. We’re increasing patrols in the area too.”
A policewoman discussing something in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“What about Ravi?” I asked. “Should I talk to him?”
“If you see him, yes. But be careful. We don’t know if he’s involved or just an observant bystander.”
As if on cue, I spotted Ravi pulling up to my neighbor’s house. “He’s here now,” I said, moving to the window.
Leona joined me. “Go talk to him. I’ll watch from here.”
I stepped outside, my pulse racing. Ravi was just getting back onto his bike when he saw me.
A delivery man astride a motorcycle | Source: Pexels
“Hey,” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Got a minute?”
Ravi hesitated, then nodded. As he approached, I could see the tension in his shoulders.
“Look,” he said before I could speak, “I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve said something, but I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.
A woman having a conversation with someone in a front yard | Source: Midjourney
Ravi glanced around nervously. “After I parked, I saw these guys messing with your trash. They looked not good, you know? I wanted to warn you, but I was afraid they might still be around.”
I was so relieved. “That’s why you left the note?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“Ravi,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “You might have saved my family. Thank you.”
A profile view of a woman talking to someone unseen | Source: Midjourney
His shoulders relaxed a bit. “Really? You’re not mad?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. In fact, I owe you big time.”
As Ravi drove away, I felt grateful but also a little afraid. The threat wasn’t over, but at least now I knew we weren’t facing it alone.
Back inside, Leona was on her phone, talking in hushed tones. She hung up as I approached.
“We’ve got some leads based the description Ravi gave us ,” she said. “We’ll catch these guys, Nora. Just stay vigilant.”
A police officer talking on a mobile phone in a living room | Source: Midjourney
That night, after tucking Kai and Isla into bed, I sat in front of the new security monitors. The cameras showed empty streets and quiet yards, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere out there, someone was watching, waiting for their chance.
I thought about Ravi’s quick thinking, Leona’s dedication, and my own newfound strength. Whatever came next, we’d face it together. For now, all I could do was watch and wait, grateful for the unexpected allies who’d helped keep my family safe.
A woman looking aside thoughtfully | Source: Pexels
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about neighbors who installed a camera aimed at a woman’s garden, but she taught them a savage lesson without going to court.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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