CHAPTER ONE

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Sam

     Atty. Samantha Morris.

     I thought, as I first stepped on Las Vegas. It is different here than in L.A. But I have to do this to pursue my dreams.

     I am going to be a lawyer.

But dreaming wasn't really easy as I thought.

Being here in this overly populated city is not easy.

     Dad lived in a small run down apartment in the desolate part of the city. He showed me my small room that smells like old burning wood. I don't doubt he tried to burn this place once.

     There's only one furniture in the room. A mattress. He didn't even put sheets on it.

     “It's not much, I know,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. “I don't have any spare linen, so maybe you can buy some today?”

     I paused. I already gave my money for the bus ticket. The only spare I had was for a presentable dress for potential job interviews. Eventhough Dad didn't know it yet.

     “Do you at least have a pillow and a blanket?” He grimaced and put down my bag, “I think I have an old blanket somewhere. Let me check.” With that he turned and left me in the room.

     He suggested that I would live with him since Mom wasn't really herself due to overdose. He always say that she's no good for me since she can't take care of me the way she used to. But guess what, both of them are just the same.

Dad's obsession with gambling and alcohol and Mom's addiction to drugs. If I were to choose between them, I'd choose no one.

     Slowly I sank down on the mattress and dust fly up everywhere and up to my nose causing me to sneeze. The floor hasn't been cleaned and cobwebs are everywhere up the ceiling. The one window near the mattress is all dusty, I can hardly see outside. There wasn't even a wardrobe to put my clothes. I pulled my backpack over to me. Good thing I hardly own anything so not having a wardrobe should not be a problem. Everything I used to own has been sold by Mom in exchange for crystal meth. That taught me not to cling onto physical things.

     Dad returned with a heap of what looks like black rags. He handed it to me and I realized it was the old blanket he was referring to. It was bug eaten and smells of smoke and something I couldn't place. I had no choice but to buy bed linen. I stared down at my flip-flops, right now they are the only shoes I had. I pulled the spare thirty dollars from my backpack.

     Dad eyed the money in a strange way. Desperate and hungry.

“I don’t suppose you have some spare change for me? Business is slow right now, and I need to buy some food for us.”

I hadn’t asked what exactly his business was. I’d learned that asking too many questions often led to unpleasant answers.

I handed him ten dollars. “I need the rest for bed sheets.”

He looked disappointed but then nodded. “Sure. I’ll go get us something to eat for tonight. Why don’t you go to Target and see if you can get a comforter and sheets?”

     It almost seemed as if he wanted to get me out. I nodded. I’d have preferred to get out of my sweaty pair of jeans and shirt but I grabbed my backpack.

“You can leave that here.”

     I smiled. “Oh, no. I need it to carry whatever I buy,” I lied. I’d learned to never let my stuff lying around with my mother or she would sell it. Not that I had anything of worth, but I hated if people rummaged in my underwear.

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