There once was a boy headed West

He put on his cap and his vest

He packed poke-balls

And he caught them all

And now he’s the very best

There once was a man in a box

His companion with hair like a fox

They said he was wise

But with youth in his eyes

He travelled through time in that box

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away called New York, lived a middle class girl who loved to help people. In fact, she loved to help them so much that when she finished university she took up a job as an assistant to a very prominent heiress. This assistant’s name was Grace, for she was kind and gentle and full of grace. The only quality that rivaled her grace was her beauty, for she was seen as one of the most beautiful girls in the city. She had fine blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. Her skin was clear and white as ivory. With her brains, beauty and kindness, she could have anything she ever wanted, but unlike many of the other beautiful girls in the city, she did not flaunt her assets, she was instead very humble.

            While Grace used her beauty and grace for good, her boss, Victoria, heiress to the Winston fortune, used hers to deceive people and to get what she wanted. Victoria was just as beautiful as Grace, perhaps even more so, with raven black hair and porcelain skin. She was tall and lean and had perfect skin. Not only blessed with beauty, Victoria was also blessed with the most sought-out man in the whole tri-state area. Peter, heir to the Hastings fortune, was courting her. At first, their parents, wanting to unite the two wealthy families, brought these two wealthy young adults together but now Victoria was sure that their love was true and that one day, they would be wed, and they would become the richest couple in all the land. Unfortunately for the heiress, Peter found Victoria to be vain and unkind, only dating her to please his father, who was very ill and was sure to die soon.

            One day, Victoria and Grace were walking down the street, when they came across a poor beggar. His smile was crooked and yellow and he was missing two teeth. His beard was grey and wiry, extending down his torso. He wore tattered clothes, and he held out a cup, pleading for some spare change so that he might be able to buy some food.

            “Please, ma’am, spare some change?” he requested from the heiress. Victoria looked down her nose at this poor man, huffed, and continued walking away, a look of disgust painted on her spotless face. Grace took pity on this man, for she knew what it was like to not have money to throw around. She stopped, fished through her purse and pulled out the last five dollars she had. She smiled at the beggar and placed it in his cup.

            “God bless you,” he said, smiling his broken grin. Grace hurried to catch up with the heiress, and the two continued on their walk, the heiress ignoring her the whole way.

            What the two girls did not realize was that they were being watched. Peter just happened to be gazing out his apartment window when he noticed the two beauties pass the beggar. He saw how rude and vile Victoria had been, and how kind and generous Grace was. 

            That weekend, the heiress accompanied the heir to a charity event. While Peter was being nice and sociable, Victoria ignored anyone who was not of the same status as her and instead spent the evening at the bar, drinking the night away. After becoming intoxicated, the bad attitude of the heiress was amplified, making her almost more intolerable than she was sober. Grace, who was instructed to follow Victoria wherever she may go, followed closely behind Victoria, making amends with whomever Victoria had insulted. She even took care of the heiress after she had started to become unsteady in her shoes and almost fell into the koi pond. Again, Peter noticed these actions, and he began to grow fond of the assistant, for she was just as beautiful as Victoria, but ten times kinder.

            The following weekend, the couple again attended a charity event, this time to save the children in Africa. Again, the heiress spent the evening at the bar, tossing down cocktails like they were water. This time, she dismissed Grace and instead tagged along with her heiress friends, who were just as vile as she. Not sure of what she should do, Grace stood against the wall, keeping a close eye on Victoria in case she found herself in some sort of trouble. Not soon after, Peter joined Grace, and the two began to talk. They joked around, having better conversation in the short few minutes than he had ever had with Victoria in the years that they had been dating. Peter learnt things from Grace, like how she used to live in poverty before she got a job, and how she paid her way through school. Grace learnt that Peter was nothing like Victoria and that once his father had passed away and left him the fortune, he would donate as much as he could to any charity he could, and leave his high profile life behind for something more humble. The heir found himself developing feelings for Grace, but he also felt bad because as cruel and nasty as Victoria was, it was not fair for him to continue to string her along.

Months went by, and although Peter felt bad for doing all of this behind Victoria’s back, he continued to spend time with the assistant and their bond strengthened. But one evening, while having dinner with Victoria at her apartment, they had an argument. It had started over something very small, but it grew and grew until Peter could not hold it in any longer and he told her everything. He told her how he thought she was rude and unkind and selfish, and how he much preferred Grace and her attitude. He told her that he could never be with someone so vile and he promptly ended their relationship, leaving Victoria red with anger. Just as Peter finished breaking up with Victoria, Grace wandered into the war zone, finishing up her duties for the day. Victoria stared viciously at her, and began to scream at her, saying that it was all her fault and she even threatened to fire her. Grace, astounded by Victoria’s cussing, quit her job on the spot. She was fed up with the abuse she was receiving by the self-entitled heiress and would rather be a beggar on the street than put up with her any longer. Victoria yelled that she would black list Grace and that she would never work as an assistant in the city ever again.

Peter heard this just as he was about to close the door and go home, but after hearing Victoria assault Grace with her words, he stormed back in and defended Grace. He told her that he would hire her, and that she would be treated much nicer than she had while working for the heiress.

The next day, Grace started working for Peter. She arrived at his apartment early in the morning. He stopped Grace as she started asking what she could do for him, and he explained that he did not want her to work for him, but to instead become his girlfriend. Happily, Grace accepted and the couple lived happily ever after.

Meanwhile, it was discovered many weeks later, that Victoria’s father had been involved in a money laundering scam, and he was sued for all he was worth. Victoria lost all of her fortunes, and the only job placement that would take her was Peter and Grace, who accepted her as their new assistant. 

The ship was big. She glistened in the sunlight. She drifted effortlessly through the dazzling waves. She carried eager passengers to their destinations. She was also getting old. So old in fact, that she was no longer reliable on the ocean. And so she returned to the pier, for the very last time.

I noticed a large pimple in the middle of my forehead as I looked in the mirror this morning. Today was going to be a bad day. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. My hair was a mess and my clothes were dirty, I just know today will be a bad day.

The smell of warm turkey wafted through the air and down to my nose. I licked my lips and tried my hardest not to drool all over the floor. I stayed as still and as quiet as I could so that maybe they wouldn’t notice me and utter the words that I dreaded to hear, “Scooby, get out of the kitchen!”. Why couldn’t they share even the tiniest amount of that delicious turkey with me? I promise I’ll be a good boy! I won’t eat your shoes, I’ll wait until I go outside before I go to the bathroom. I’ll even stop hogging the bed! I sat on my pillow as my family sat down at the table and passed around a bowl of beans. I looked in envy as Taffy, the other family dog, lay under the table is wait for the occasional dropped crumb. It was almost as if he was mocking me, taunting me, “Haha! I get to lie at mom’s feet and you don’t!”. It was only because he was small and fluffy, I’m sure. Just as I thought I was going to die from starvation, I hear a voice that sounds like a choir of angels. “Scooby, come here!” Alexa called. On her fork was a juicy piece of turkey that she couldn’t finish. I trotted over and sat patiently as she brought the fork down to my wet mouth. I scarfed down the poultry, savouring every flavour. Today was potentially the best day of my life. I wonder what we’re having for dinner tomorrow night.

The spoon clinked against the coffee mug as she stirred the hot, dark liquid in slow circles. She sighed, and continued to read the morning paper. She could feel her eyes begin to droop, and just as she was about to lull into a light sleep, she was awakened by a soft thud. She snapped awake and saw her car had knocked over her favourite pair of shoes. A rush of adrenaline pulsed through her body when she noticed that she was going to be late for work if she didn’t hustle. Abandoning her full coffee mug on the circular breakfast table, she dashed to the mirror in the hallway, fluffed her hair, gave her cat a gentle pat on the head and ran out the door. Before getting into the car, she quickly looked at her phone for the time and noticed the date. It was Saturday. She didn’t have work after all.

Often, when I’m alone, I like to close my eyes and imagine what my future would be like. Where will I live? What will I be doing for an occupation? What about my family? For me, the answers to this are simple. I will live in a house in the suburbs. It will not be the biggest house on the block, but it will be big enough that when people drive by on their way to work or to school or to their own homes, they will see it and think “Wow, I wonder what it would be like to live there?” . It will have a vast, rich green lawn out front and a swimming pool with a hot tub out in the backyard. Inside, it will have a bright kitchen, where all the family meals will be prepared, and a warm living room, where we will all sit down to watch television or to read. There will be a grand fire place that will crackle on every cold evening, reminding us that it is a Canadian winter outside. And upstairs, in the attic, next to the window overlooking our street, will be a desk and a comfortable chair where I will sit down and write out my ideas, turning them into intricate stories. I will be an author, after all. My ideal family will include a husband and two boys. They will be raised on sports and good music. They will learn both of the languages of our country and they will try their hardest to get the best grades in school. Most importantly, they will have good health.

In my version of the American Dream, everyone will be different. Their differences will not be supressed, but instead celebrated and cherished, because if everyone was the same, then there would be nothing interesting in the world. No new ideas to be found, because everyone would think similarly. Helping out those around you will no longer be a shock to everyone, because it will be what is expected of you. Everyone will be able to support themselves financially, and if there was an emotional crisis, neighbours and friends would be there in a heartbeat for the emotional support.

Of course, my version of the American Dream is just about as unattainable as the stereotypical American Dream. I have no guarantee that I will live in a stately home in the suburbs, be a successful author, or have a husband and kids. Just as much as there is no guarantee that society in America is faultless or that just by moving to America, you will have a better life and future than you did back in your home country. One thing that is for sure is that if you work hard towards your American Dream, you have more of a chance of ending up with a life similar to it than you do sitting there alone, with your eyes closed, imagining it.