Blake had been losing faith more and more the past year than she thought was possible. Life had all but become a meaningless trudge through muck-filled roads at this point, sinkholes at every corner that barely left her room to breathe. It was a miserable existence, one that she tried to find the light in no matter how deep she sank.

But it felt as though Zuzu reveled in its mission to suck the bright light out of any who dared to call the concrete jungle their home. It certainly seemed to do that with her mother, who dreamed of nothing more than to return to her childhood home with her daughter. To free them both from the city's soul-sucking agenda. From the abuse of being beaten down at every turn... But...

Blake looked up from the computer screen, her eyes burning from the overly bright screen that did nothing to lighten up the dark cubicle that was called her workspace. Her honey brown eyes, having dulled exponentially since she started working at Joja Corporations, fell upon the only thing that used to give her a sliver of hope. A photograph of her and her mother, her mother hugging her tightly while both beamed happily at the mysterious figure behind the camera.

They weren't allowed to personalize their workspaces. The company was on its way to become a tyrannical monopoly, leeching itself into unsuspecting victims foolish enough to open themselves to the "opportunities" the company was "willing" to offer. That seemed almost poetic, Blake came to realize. Zuzu was nothing more than a cesspool of misery and wasted opportunities. The people here nothing more than hollow shells of who they used to be. Zuzu and Joja were like a match made in heaven.

She always wished that it was her father behind the camera, liked to pretend, knowing full well that the man was only in her life long enough to accidentally get her mother pregnant and bail.

Blake was probably five or six in that picture, and it had been her late grandfather taking that picture. It was one of their last visits to his farm in Pelican Town before he fell ill. Before he had to be moved to the city because the town's clinic wasn't equipped to treat him. Before he finally passed, after years of suffering through his progressively growing illness.

Before her mother had her terrible accident that, too, resulted in a loss of life... Before Blake was truly alone.

Before…

Just before...

The hours at the office were long, dreary, and unfulfilling. The pay was pathetic and was nowhere near worth the amount of work that Joja demanded from its employees.

Slaves, more like it, Blake thought bitterly as she trudged home, her body slumped over from exhaustion. She wanted nothing more than to go home, fall face first in her bed (admittedly, that wasn't a good idea, as her bed was nothing more than a mattress on the floor. That would hurt like hell.), curl up with a cup of instant noodles, and sleep for a thousand years. Maybe more.

The walk to the apartments was a bit of a hike, but Blake preferred to walk wherever she went. After her mother's accident, she found it hard to step foot into another vehicle. It was an irrational fear, she knew, but the idea still was enough to make her stomach jump straight to her throat. She'd rather brave a dangerous street or two than go through that again...

She made it home a little later that night than usual, which was only minutely annoying. She walked up to the steps to the panel with seemingly a million buttons on it. Most of them were to call each individual room, which could then lead to the front door being unlocked with the simple press of a button. There was a keypad at the bottom, each tenant having their own code to get into the building.

Blake quickly typed the digits in and pressed enter, and waited for the door to buzz to let her know that it was unlocked.

Nothing.

She furrowed her dark brows in confusion before typing the code in once, twice, thrice more before crying out in frustration. She didn't forget her code. Could she? That was a possibility. A very slim one, but one none the less. So that meant…

She promptly pressed the button that buzzed to room 317, the room directly across from her. A few more times.

"What?!" Blake flinched, feeling a bit bad for being a tad rude, but hey... She needed to get inside.

"S-sorry, Ms. Keller. It's Blake... I know it's late, but... I forgot my code... Could you buzz me in?" Silence. "Please?" The silence continued to linger for a moment before the door finally buzzed open. "Thank you, Ms. Keller!"

She quickly went inside and up the flight of stairs to the third floor, ignoring whatever was in her designated mailbox. Bills could wait till in the morning. Not like she really had the funds to do much with them. She was short on money as it is, and she was two months behind on rent, which was no surprise. She had a hard time keeping up with it, and she was paid so little…

She walked down the hall, fidgeting with her keys. 310.. 312.. 314..

Her heart raced in anticipation as she prayed to Yoba that she only just forgot her code, the closer she got to her room making her heart painfully beat against her chest. It wasn't until she saw the white, official-looking piece of paper taped to her door... The word "Evicted" printed in bold letters right across the top held her attention, she didn't even bother to read the rest. She tried the key, which didn't work.

Another cry of frustration tore from her throat, though a tad bit more strangled, as she ripped the paper from the door. She stared at it, not reading it... She just stared as she backed up against the wall. She slid down, sinking into that despair she tried so hard to keep at bay... Her dark hair fell in front of her face as if to hide her face from the rest of the world as tears fell down her cheeks.

What was she going to do? She literally had nowhere else to go... She had no friends in this city, at least no real friends. Her ex, she refused to even look at after what he put her through... Her father was obviously out of the question...

What was she going to do…?

"Mr. Ditkovich... Please... I know I haven't really been able to keep my payments-"

"Miss Wilders... I am afraid..." He paused and let out an exhausted sigh. "You're a sweet kid, you really are, but my hands are tied." Ditkovich, her landlord, was a middle-aged man, through the years have been everything but kind to him, aging him drastically. And he was nice enough, though that wasn't really saying much. People in the city rarely ever stuck their neck out for anyone, used whoever to get wherever they wanted and didn't think twice about it. There was an absence of any sort of value anyone had for another human being.

However, he had allowed her to stay even though she was habitually late paying her rent when he had every right to throw her out the first month she missed a payment.

"I'm aware I let you slide a few times... But miss Wilders, you can't continue to lean on your job as a crutch to shirk your contractually bound responsibilities."

Blake opened her mouth to argue with him, but he cut her off before she could even start. "You've had ample time to find another job that offered you sufficient funds to pay your rent, and you just haven't done anything to better your chances." He paused long enough to sigh and shake his head. "Kid, I like ya, but I can't keep doing this. You're taking advantage of me, and I'm losing money."

Blake held her breath as he spoke, the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks burning her skin like acid. He wasn't going to reconsider his decision, which he was very much so in the right for, yet she found herself trying so hard to keep her anger from bubbling over. Not necessarily fully directed at him, mostly at the hand she had been dealt. He was just an easy target. And that wasn't fair.

"I-is there any way I can.." her voice quivered and cracked. "Stay tonight? Just for tonight? To get my stuff? I have nowhere else to go tonight, but I can find someplace in the morning.."

His brows furrowed, and his body stiffened as he struggled with this. "I'll unlock the door," he started slowly, though the soft smile on her face made only darkened his features as he looked away from her. "But, you have an hour to get the things you absolutely need for tonight. Then you need to leave the property."

Blake instantly deflated, and her fists clenched tightly.

"You then, of course, have thirty days to retrieve your things before it's thrown out, so you can come back tomorrow."

Blake sat on the floor of her room. Well, not her room anymore. But you know what I mean. She had a bag of clothes to change into tomorrow on the mattress as she looked through the things that she absolutely needed. Like her sketchbook that she never used anymore. She could grab her laptop, but the thing was barely holding together, and she was virtually homeless. It wasn't a necessity, per se, but it felt like it was. Her stories, or rather, simple ideas that she never flew with, were on that laptop.

Not like that really mattered. She lost her spark to write anything since...

She sighed and put it aside. She didn't need it.

Where was her lock-box? She hadn't opened that thing in years. Maybe there was some money in that?

Pushing herself up off the ground, she started for the tiny closet and opened the door. Reaching for the chain that turned the light on, she reached up onto the shelf, having to hop on her tippy toes. After some struggled grunts, her fingers came into contact with a cool metal, and she scooted the box close enough to the edge so that she didn't have to struggle with being vertically challenged anymore.

She popped another squat after grabbing her keys, the box firmly in her lap as she unlocked it. Breathing a silent prayer, despite the fact that she was sure Yoba was dead set on causing her nothing but misery, she lifted the lid and dared a peek inside.

"Oh Yoba!" she cried, her eyes lighting up as she spied what added up to a few hundred dollars. There was an envelope with an unbroken wax seal buried under several other unimportant documents. On the envelope, with handwriting she wasn't familiar with, was her name, as well as "when you need a break" in smaller print underneath.

She stared at it, brows furrowed... Wasn't that..? She reached for the familiar package, inspecting it curiously. She heard a voice, as clear as the day he spoke to her, though no one was around to speak...

"There will come a day where the burden of modern life seems as it is crashing down on you. It will seem like too much, and you may feel overwhelmed. Your spirit will begin to fade, and you will feel nothing but emptiness. Open that envelope on that day."

That was fourteen years ago. She was eight. Then, she didn't quite understand what he had meant. His words were rather cryptic, especially for an eight-year-old girl. Now... Now she fully understood what he meant. She was straddling the edge of completely losing herself in the macabre life that eventually claimed those who lived here. But what was Pappy Otis offering her that could supposedly bring her back from the brink of despair?

She tore the seal off with a new found spirit, her heart beating against her breast painfully. She could barely breathe from her panicked anticipation, especially when she pulled out two pieces of paper. She unfolded them, her eyes scanning the words Pappy wrote to her. His penmanship was immaculate.

My little Blake,

If you are reading this, then that means you are in desperate need for a change. It is sad to think that you actually reached this point in life.

The same happened to me years ago. I had lost sight of what truly mattered in life- a connection, a real connection, with people and nature. I left everything behind and moved to the one place where I truly belonged.

With this letter, I've enclosed the deed to my pride and joy, one of the best things that ever happened to me: Paradise Farm. It is yours now. It's yours to start your new life.

This was my most precious gift of all, and I know you will do wonders there.

I love you, Blake.

She re-read the letter several times, each time her gaze growing hazier and hazier as tears flooded her vision. This time, it wasn't because of the weight of the world crashing onto her and drowning her. It was because of hope. Hope that she never thought she'd get a taste of. At least not this soon.

I love you too, Paps…

The next morning came quickly, much to Blake's delight. She slept in the front room of the hotel, only to be kicked out by Ditkovich a few hours later. Which was fine. She had called the bus station later the night before and asked if there were any buses that went to Pelican Town, which turned out to be a good idea because she now knew when the bus would come. At 11 o'clock AM. It was already 9:37 by the time she made to Joja Corp to get her picture of her and her mother and to quit. It didn't take much time to do either of those tasks.

10:30 hit and Blake was sitting at the bus stop, a one-way ticket to Pelican Town grasped firmly in hand as she anxiously waited for the bus to arrive. Her stomach turned ever so slightly as each bus drove by. She was nervous about this. Not necessarily just from having to ride in a steel deathtrap, but from the unknown, she was about to thrust herself into.

What kind of people would she meet? How would they take to this newcomer invading their town? Would she be able to hold a light to her grandfather's reputation? Do him proud?

This sudden decision to uproot her life and grow a new one was more than frightening, but it would be worth it…

Right?

"You gettin' on?"

The sudden voice, gravely and harsh, tore Blake from her thoughts and made her jump with a start. Looking up, she saw a bus parked right in front of her. A stern looking woman with too much makeup stared down at her with furrowed brows and a scowl stared down at her.

"Pelican Town?" Blake asked, slowly standing from her seat, the few bags she had packed held tightly in one hand. The woman nodded. Blake gulped. "Then... I'm getting on." She walked to the bus, staring at the steps, at her hand that wrapped around the rail to get in.

She just stared, her heartbeat growing and growing and-

"Kid, I ain't got all day. Let's go,"

"Oh, right... Sorry." With a bit more gusto, she took her first step onto the bus, and another, and another until she found herself settling into a seat. The bus was empty, save for Blake and the driver, so she could sit anywhere she pleased. Once situated, the bus hissed as the doors closed, and Blake only watched as her home slowly disappeared.

The ride wasn't too long, about four to five hours, give or take (Blake didn't particularly care to keep track), and was surprisingly manageable. They didn't die, so that was a major plus.

The doors swung open, and Blake hesitantly stepped out of the bus. "Welcome to Pelican Town, kid," the driver said, taking a long puff from her cigarette, closing the doors behind Blake.