I can hear them talking clearly through the paper thin walls that separated my room from the kitchen. My little brother is fast asleep. He is blissfully unaware of the conversation going on in the next room, unaware of the pain to come. At that moment I wish I was him, peacefully dreaming of happy, carefree moments. My mom sounded terrified, my dad defeated. Although I could not see them, I could picture exactly what their faces looked like. The pain and fear their faces would show, so clear in my mind. I knew things were getting bad. I could sense that for the last few months. I hear the words, “How do we tell Jimmy we can’t pay for him to go to college?” I know now it is time, time for me to step up and be a man. As much as I want to go to college, it isn’t possible. All of my hopes and dreams crushed in that very sentence. There is no way my plan was going to work out. My best friend Jon and I had all of the details worked out. We planned to move a few hours from home and attend college together in a few short months. I am a good student with big plans, but now, my family comes first. I cannot let them down. This is no time for selfishness.

     Those first few days were hard. I was filled with anger, frustration, disappointment and just about every negative emotion possible. Here I am two months later working sixteen hour days trying to help my family keep the roof over our heads and dinner on the table. While I watch my best friend packs up his things ready to fulfill his dream, our dream. I hang my head down as my boss screams at me to pick up the pace. I hate this job, working moving boxes all day. It is sweltering hot and humid. I cannot wait for the sun to set to bring some relief from this oppressive heat. I pick up the pace; I cannot afford to lose this job. There are twenty other people waiting and hoping in line for the next person to screw up so they can get a job. I am surrounded by sweaty men. Everyone has the same pained look on their face. This is not their dream nor is it mine. Everyone has a story but nobody shares it. We work all day barely uttering a word. We don’t want the boss to think we are being lax on the job. It is pay day, I am afraid the lights will be turned off at the house if the bill doesn’t get paid soon. If only my dad didn’t have to close his store. If only the economy was better. If only the President, the most powerful person in this country would do something. I look around at all these people and the stories their expressions are telling while our boss walks in the room and begins to yell at everyone to move faster. I lift and carry the heavy box and feel the deep pain in my back. The pain in my back is nothing compared to the loneliness I feel in my heart.
     Day in and day out, it is the same thing repeated over and over. My mom is an angel. She packs me some lunch and gets me to work on time. I am so mentally and physically tired some mornings I feel I cannot take one more day. I have no time for friends. Jon is gone. I got a letter from him recently. He said things are great. He has a girlfriend at school and is having a great time meeting a lot of people. Me, I don’t speak much most days. Sometimes at lunch break a few of us talk a little. The rest, sit alone and eat their sandwich head down, full of sweat, quickly eating before the boss comes in screaming at us. It is funny how you can be surrounded by people and yet feel so alone. I sometimes think that maybe I should do something different and leave this town. Find a job somewhere else where maybe things would be better. I wish I had friends, a girlfriend anything. I love my family but I need something more. All my buddies are gone. Some chose the life of riding the rails looking for something better. Some were lucky like Jon to get to go to college. The rest, who knows, I don’t have time to even know. One night after work, I was not so tired. Physically yes, but mentally, no. I changed my clothes and decided to take a walk a few blocks to see if maybe a high school fiend Jenni was home. I put on a nicer shirt, the physical labor has made notable changes to by body. That shirt that fit well before, now it is tighter as the muscles of my arm had grown from working.  My lanky 6 foot frame had grown to a fit, more muscular body. The cooler night air felt great. I felt a glimmer of hope in my heart. Last I heard Jenni was going to study to be a teacher. As I walked toward her house, I found a beautiful flower growing on the side of the road. The flower was beauty in the midst of ugliness. I leaned down painfully aware of how bad my back was aching. I picked the flower carefully. It was perfect. I stood back up and continued my walk hoping Jenni would like it. As I turned the corner and started up the driveway to Jenni’s house I noticed how dark her home was. I felt a sinking feeling in my heart. As I approached the door I could sense the emptiness. They were gone. I peered in the window. It was as I thought, empty. I was overcome with emotions.  I hung my head as I turned to take the walk back to my house. I looked down at that flower in my hand and was flooded with rage. I couldn’t help it. I tore at it like a rabid animal. I yelled, I stomped on it and picked up the remains and threw what remained as far as I could. I hung my head back down, shoved my hands in my pockets and walked slowly back to my house. Hope faded once again into the dark night.