text: There comes a time in your life when everything seems to fall into place. That dream you have been working hard to achieve, but my dream turned into a nightmare. My name is Bobby Snow, and my story begins a couple of years ago; a week before my 30th birthday to be exact. I was born in the bustling, cold lonely city of New York. The Big Apple, whose slogan is if you make it here, you can make it anywhere. I was starting to feel like the pit from that rotted apple because my goal to live under the bright sun-palmed sky of Miami, Florida by the time I was 30 seemed to be eluding me day by day. Once a week, I wake up early and head down to the travel agency to see if there are any cheap flights going to Florida. Earlier today was no exception. A great sadness came over me as I was staring intensely at the travel agency’s glass door with the posters of sunny Florida for $125.00 on American Airlines. The American Airline plane flying over the sunny shore representing the American dreams flying away from me. Maria, the travel agent, taps on the glass window and signals me to enter. I am halfway through the door when Maria happily calls out, “Bobby, thank God you came today. I've been trying to call you for the last couple of days, but I kept getting a recording that your number is disconnected.” "Yeah," I sadly reply, “I couldn’t afford to keep the cell phone on anymore." “We have a special sale on Spirit Airlines,” Maria says. “$20.21 going to Florida.” “$20.21?" I question her, not believing what I had just heard. “Yes, but the sale only lasts till tomorrow,” she says. I knew it was too good to be true. Taking my wallet out, I happily notice that I have $44. The last of the money I have left till payday. How do I tell Isabella that I am leaving for Florida the day after my birthday? If I want my dream to come true, I have to sacrifice something important or precious to stimulate my growth. I have to tell her.....she deserves it. "Bobby?.....BOBBY!!" The voice of my high school sweetheart, Isabella, snaps me out of my deep thoughts. We are having dinner at Johnny's Pizzeria. She scrunches her eyebrows together and asks, “Bobby, is everything ok? You zoned out on me again. You've been picking at that slice of pizza for the last 5 minutes.” Whenever Isabella scrunches her eyebrows together it means that she is worried or concerned about me. “If you keep scrunching your eyebrows together like that you are going to give yourself wrinkles,” I respond. “I wouldn’t get wrinkles if I weren’t worried about you all the time," she laughs. "So, what is it now?" I let out a deep sigh. “You know what it is,” I muttered, while picking pieces of pepperoni off my pizza and popping them into my mouth. “You should be happy, next week will be your birthday. The Big Three Oh.... you still have time to follow your dreams. It’s not as if the world is going to end when you become 30,” she says. I angrily replied, “I know that it won’t end, but it feels like that to me. You know I love you. I would love nothing better than for us to live together, but I live in a one-bedroom roach infested apartment in the Bronx project complex. There is always something going on at that building. The elevator’s constantly breaking down. The stairwells and hallways full of garbage thrown all over the place. Vicious drugged-out gang members hiding about waiting to paint the white walls crimson red from the blood of their latest victim. Puddles of animal urine or feces you must side-step or jump over to get to the other side.” I am temporarily distracted by a commercial on the pizzeria's television. It's a Spirit Airlines ad, offering discount flights to Florida. The images of palm trees and beaches bring me a very brief glimmer of hope before the commercial ends, and I am pulled back into reality. “There is nothing here for me. I am stuck in a dead-end job, washing dishes, and delivering food at Wang’s Chinese takeout. I cannot find any other job out here. No one is hiring. I have two years of college. I worked hard to get a college degree. I also have certificates in Hotel Management and Computer Science. They are worthless as the paper they are written on. I have sent countless resumes out and I still cannot get a decent job. I love you, ‘Bel, but I can’t even take you out to a decent place.” Isabella reaches out for my hand, as I push the half-eaten slice away in disgust. “You deserve better than having pizza for dinner," I say, while standing up. “I’ll be back, I’m going to go wash my face. “ Tears flowed down my face as I stared at my miserable reflection in the bathroom mirror. What new disappointments will the future bring? How long will Isabella stand being with a loser like me? Washing the shame off my face, I do not know how I will do this. Returning to the table, Isabella stares at me as a blue envelope sits on the table waiting for me. “What’s this?” I ask her. “It’s an early birthday gift. Maybe it will cheer you up," she says to me, with a devilish smile on her face. The card shows a big bear throwing a ball at his son, who is holding a bat which reads “Happy Birthday, Daddy". Then a picture falls out of the card showing the sonogram image of a baby. “That is an image of your son.... our son.” Isabella smiles at me. “Surprise! I am pregnant. I’ve known for a while but have not found a right time or way to tell you till now.” Instead of feeling happy, I felt as if the rug had been pulled from under me. Another obstacle to my future. I love Isabella, but what kind of life can I give her and the baby? “Isabella," I say. "This is it. I cannot do this anymore. We are through. I have nothing left to give. How do you expect me to take care of you and the baby if I can’t even take care of myself? I am leaving New York to try to make it in Florida. I bought the plane ticket today.” “You do not have to sacrifice everything to achieve your goal!” yells Isabella, as tears fall down her face. "I am just trying to save you from making a mistake that you will regret in the long run," I shot back. "I do not want you and our son to suffer like I did." “Well, I hope you find all that you are searching for!” Isabella screams, before storming out of the pizzeria. Another travel ad about Florida pops up on the TV. "It's going to be worth it," I say to myself. "It has to be...." The next day there is a knock on my door. “Hello, are you Mr. Snow,” said a pale mousy looking man. Not really in the mood for company, I ask, "What do you want?" “I am Mr. Gilbert; I am the lawyer to your grandmother, Katerina," he says. “I have some bad news. She died of a heart attack. As heir to her estate you need to come to my office to sign some papers and discuss your inheritance.” “I think you are mistaken. I do not know anyone named Katerina,” I mutter. “She is your father’s mother," he continued. "Your mother loved your father, but your father left her pregnant. He thought that he could find a better future in Florida. He died there broke and alone. Your grandmother tried to contact you, but your mother prohibited her from seeing you. Believe me, she tried. “ Mr. Gilbert hands me a stack of letters with the words "return to sender" written on them in my mother’s handwriting. “She tried to write to you, but your mother kept sending the letters back. There is more we need to discuss, so how does three o’clock tomorrow sound?” "Sure,” I respond. “I will see you then.” After hours of reading my grandmother’s letters, I started to tear up as I realized that my father had a dream. Just like I have mine. He went after his dream but failed. I know that I will go after mine and succeed. I must succeed for Isabella, for our child but mostly for myself. The next day I head to Mr. Gilbert’s office with a new hope for the future. “Good afternoon, Mr. Snow," he says. "As I told you yesterday, you are the sole heir to your grandmother’s estate. She left you $100,000 dollars. I need you to sign these papers so I can release the funds to you." I fill out the forms and have Isabella and my unborn son as the beneficiaries if something were to happen to me. I rise to leave when Mr. Gilbert hands me an envelope. “This is for you also. I don’t know what it says, but I hope it answers any questions you may have.” I dash home, barely able to contain myself, both in anticipation and fear of what the letter might say. I run up the stairs, skipping steps as I go up. I burst through my door, not even bothering to close it behind me before plopping down on my worn-out couch. Tearing open the envelope, I pull out the letter. I close my eyes and take what seemed like the deepest breath I will ever take, and then I read: "Dear Son, I hope that you are well. I know that if you are reading this letter, then I am dead and gone. I wrote this letter to let you know that I did not leave for Florida to run away from my responsibilities to you. I left because I love you and your mother, and I wanted a better future for us. It is hard here in Florida. No friends nor family. I am trying the best in this life to give you something. To give your mother something. I will sacrifice anything for you, but I had to leave to find something. I had nothing to give you or offer you had I stayed in New York. I love you and hope your life turns out better than mine. Love your dad, Robert Snow." Tears roll down my eyes, as the letter falls out of my hands. He was just like me, looking for a better future; a way to improve our situation, but instead he found that there was nothing out there for him. No future. No hope. As my grandma wrote in her letters, he went from one dead end job to another, trying to help. The little money he could spare, he sent to us. Mom rejected any of his help, but grandma ever the wise woman, invested it in the stock market and placed all the money in the bank. I grab a small pad and write a small letter to Isabella: "Bel, always know that I love you. You and our son deserve a better future. Turns out Florida is no longer an option for me. With New York killing me day by day, I may as well finish the job. I am no use to either of you alive anyway. The letter my father left me will explain everything. I am sorry. I love you." I grab the gun I had bought for protection and place it at my temple, slowly pulling the trigger.