I grew up fairly wealthy. My father was incredibly smart and managed to make his fortune from nothing. My father's most recent business endeavour landed us in a south-east Asian country. There he would work tirelessly to to build and open a world class hotel and resort, it was to be one of the best there ever was. Due to laws of the country, he couldn't own any land so he had to become business partners with a wealthy local who owned the land he wanted to build on (let's call him Ted). After a few years on the project and a lot invested from an array of parties, the project was coming a long quite well. It was at this point 'Ted' got greedy and decided he wanted my father out of the project. Ted did some nefarious deeds such as stealing important documents, embezzling and other unethical, selfish things and managed to frame my father for them. Ted was good friends with the local chief of police so it wasn't hard to get the law to believe him. Anyway everyone believed Ted so a warrant for my father's arrest was put out and its very likely a hit was put on my father by Ted (in this country Hit-men are relatively cheap). My father's reputation was ruined and had to flee from the country. Over the next few years my father spent his fortune trying to prove his innocence. During that time some awful things would happen to the rest of our family, such as a wife of an investor publicly screaming at my mother, teachers at my school treating me like scum, because it was well known "what my father did". Anyway my father did finally prove his innocence and Ted was sent to jail but unfortunately it was too late. My fathers fortune had disappeared and instead we were just left with massive amounts of debt. But we we knew how reliable and smart my father was so we weren't too worried, he could get us back into a good financial position and he was on his way. He got a job from a large company and would've been able to start supporting us once more. Unfortunately the stress from it all led to a stroke in the middle of the night. My father was still out of country so he was alone when it happened. He spent over 10 hours on the floor before someone found him. This led to his death. I blame myself because he died whilst me and him were in an argument, and I was being very unreasonable about the whole thing (being a rebellious teenager at the time). I know I didn't cause a lot of his stress but I do believe I added just enough to kill him. My family was left broke and in debt. I never officially graduated high school because we didn't have the money to pay off the last couple year's bills. My sibling had to prematurely leave university. I moved to Canada to work so that I could help support my mother, which is what I'm doing now. Throughout the whole experience I was just a dumb, lazy teenager never caring about anything except myself and expecting everything to come easy to me as it always had. Once it was all over I had to change that quickly. I learnt the meaning of supporting others, working hard and not expecting to just get everything I want. You know those rich asshole kids everyone hates? I was one of them, but not anymore. And that's how I grew the fuck up.