Rich and Famous

All I ever wanted to be was famous. For people to know who I was. I went through most of my school life feeling like I was invisible. Even though she would never admit it, I was sure my mother had never wanted to have kids. My father disappeared when I was three and never bothered to reach out after he left. My mom at least cared enough to keep food in the house and kept me clothed and the electricity on. Other than that, I was usually on my own. She worked long hours at the local hospital and when she got home, she usually wanted to just relax. 

I often thought being famous would keep me from being invisible and maybe people would actually remember my name. I had a few friends at school – a group of us who were often considered to be outcasts, but I didn’t care. I finally had people who I could talk to and tell secrets to because I knew my mother wasn’t much help. She sometimes asked about my day, but never seemed to listen to what I had to say. Journals and stories were the only way I managed to tip my stories from my imagination and straight onto paper. I knew I had talent only because I took as many creative writing classes as I could in school and my teachers encouraged me throughout. The more writing I did, the more confident I became in my ability. Writing would become the way I could get out of town. A way to get everyone to know my name. To remember my name. I just needed a way to convince my mother to let me get an after school job.  

A part-time job would help me get the tools I needed to advance my career. Advance my options in life. Allow me to apply for grants and college scholarships and even buy a laptop. Everything changed the day I won my first writing competition. It was the first day in years my mother congratulated me for something she didn’t have a part in and it was the first time I ever had any sort of spending money. The first thing I bought was a new coffeemaker for my mom.