A Job: something all Americans must find in order to live their lives contently; otherwise, they have no money, no home and, more likely than not, no partner to share their life with. Some people live for their work- others would rather live without it. But yet they go day to day, working till their fingers are sore and bare, and all they get out of it is a paycheck.

I have never had this feeling.

Work is a concept that I have never had to endure, and never had to hate or love. With my inherited family fortune- all my families fortune- I have never had to work a day in my all-too-long life. Although I hate the idea of doing something you hate just to earn a few dollars, I do miss the social aspect of the idea.

My father met most of his friends through the selling of tobacco from his plantation. He even had a few lower-class friends whom worked for him, though he’d never admit it. My mother met hers at balls and tea houses, which were required of her to attend. I had very few friends, even then. Most of mine I met at piano lessons, or the same balls that my mother attended. The best of friends that I had was Franny Cottonwood. We met in our childhood, through our mothers who were also good friends. She was a year older than I, meeting me when she was six years of age.

We did everything together- piano lessons, attending dinner parties and balls, going into town. It is strange now to think of it; the concept of having a best friend whom I could trust my very life to seemed so unknown of now. She was one of the few people who knew of my secret, aside from my family.

Her father, Sir Montgomery Cottonwood, was a wealthy man of inheritance- his fathers’ father coming from England as a Lord. He had a very large estate, which most of the towns dinner parties were held. The estate itself had around twenty acres of land, most of which was woodlands, a creek, and large lagoon residing in the center of it all. Franny and I would wander the woods for hours, pretending we were on some great adventure. The lagoon was our little secret- we were the only ones who knew of it- and, in the summertime, it was our escape from the politics and social rules of our society.