Mom. She was living in a dream. She grew up in a ritzy part of Arizona. Where it doesn't rain, it's not cold, and people have land. Her family was well off. She was very smart and talented. But that wasn't enough for her. She had this strong desire to be something, someone. She had this need to be rich and successful. I guess growing up in Scottsdale isn't good for the middle class. She needed to be rich. She knew she was a smart, well rounded person who could get into any college she wanted. She wanted to earn the money herself. She applied for every Ivy League School. She didn't get into one. This she took like a knife to the chest. Her fight was gone. Her fire.
She resorted to other ways of getting her money. She ended up marrying Robert Smith, my father, a son of one of the wealthiest men in Paradise Valley. What she didn't understand is what comes along with wealth. Not long after I was born, my father left. My mom had to get a job at a local restaurant. We left the city as soon as we could. So here I sit in this run down apartment in a city of my mother's dreams that didn't come true. Dirt poor and left with only my mothers mind and artistic ability.
