An American Marriage
In order to save their crippling finances, the Manson's decide to marry off Sam to the son of the Baxter's: Dash. Forced to marry a man she doesn't love and sacrifice her morals and beliefs for tradition, Sam is miserable and trapped. Unfortunately for her, her husband doesn't see it that way. Dash/Sam
Some traditions are meant to be broken.
I'm all up for culture and that to respect a culture is to respect their traditions and customs, no matter how oppressive and eccentric it seems.
But this tradition, this culture I'm witnessing, earns my utmost disrespect.
My family has come from a long line of old money; my great-great grandfather owned some meat-making business that received fame for its tasty and addictive apple sausages in 1910. My great-grandfather struck oil in Texas around 1942 before he fought in WWII, my grandfather is a highly successful stockbroker, and my father invented a useful microchip that stored data in the late 1980s. It's safe to say wealth is always plentiful and prosperity is a given in my family.
But this time around, the prosperity and wealth has run out.
The meat-making business had gotten tanked in lieu of vegan and vegetarian meats and cheeses, the oil well had run dry in 2004 and there wasn't enough power or resources to dig for more lest we destroy the earth even further, the stocks my grandfather invested in were useless and made him lose millions by '07, and that microchip Dad invented had lead to a big lawsuit from his college roommate over patenting rights and needless to say, the roommate won.
Our family can no longer afford our ridiculously lavish lifestyle.
I learned the news after I graduated high school and had gotten my acceptance letter from UC Berkeley; I came home to some men taking away the eighty-thousand dollar chandelier Mom had bought from Paris of last year. Our luxurious mansion had almost been stripped bare of our belongings and my room was devoid of all of my clothes and jewelry. Mom, who was sitting on the floor with a cigarette jammed in her mouth, explained the situation to me while Dad was trying to hold himself together.
We are now middle class civilians, a step-down from the elite 1%.
It's the closest thing we are to piss poor.
I can understand the agony; getting accustomed to a lifestyle and having it ripped from you can be painful. But I also know that this isn't the end of the world; we're not homeless, we are still well-off than most people. But, my parents refuse to see the bigger picture; they don't know how to survive with less. A few bad investments and another lawsuit later, we had to file for bankruptcy and took residence in a rented apartment on the other side of town, a last remnant our extravagant lifestyle. We were miserable; I was forced to support my parents emotionally, psychologically, and financially. When they heard I got a job at the Nasty Burger to help with the bills, it went downhill from there.
My parents, out of desperation and without consulting me, decided to find a better way to hold on to what little money they had left.
The Baxter's, like my family, have come from a long line of old money. Their son, Dashiel Baxter, is of age and single. See where I'm going with this?
To save face, I am being married off to Dash Baxter, without my consent. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I'm a dowry and a reminder of the 1800s. God Bless Traditions…
I protested, believe me I did; I screamed and refused until I was blue in the face. But I was given an ultimatum: marry Baxter or kiss my inheritance and admission into UC Berkeley goodbye.
As much as I hated to admit this, I needed the money; college and a doctorate degree don't come cheap. And, sadly, I'm just as ignorant as to how to live without the luxuries I was given. After a few heated arguments, I gave in.
On October 15th, I, Samantha W. Manson will be Samantha W. Baxter.