I worked on my painting for two hours before I decided to stop for the night. I worked on the night shift every night, however I at least tried to go to sleep before it was morning. I was going to say before the sun comes up but to be fair ,the sun don't reach us here .I cleaned my hands with a wet gray rag and put away all my paint brushes . After everything was put away I scavenged my coat pockets and pulled out my tips for the night. I got forty dollars in tips tonight, and I must admit it was good night tonight. I picked the letters by the pneumo then I walked to my bedroom and placed the money on top of the bed a long with my letters. I spread them out so every dollar bill was facing up. I stared at every dollar, staring into the cold eyes of Andrew Ryan in each bill. This is the closest I knew I was going to get to meet the real Andrew Ryan and I knew it. Despite of him having interest in my art it was clearly not enough to require some of his precious time. I often hear from him on the newspaper but more often I do not. The high crust of Ryan and his elite group are so far from me. I divided the money I had into four piles of ten dollars each. I opened the combination of my safe next to my bed. The combination was 10-15-30. Each of one of the numbers had a meaning to me but I was too tired to care at the moment. Inside my safe there was 4 mason jars each with a label on them in my own handwriting. The first one said, rent which I paid at the end of each month, the next one said food which was the one that had the less money. The third jar said materials including the money I put today the jar had...ten dollars. Lastly the one with the most money the label said "Future". I been saving money so I could move near the Artist Struggle in a nicer place in Rapture. As soon as I put all the money inside each respective jar I gave a quick glance of my other valuables. My valuables weren't nothing that nice to look at, my birth certificate stating that was born on April 20, and a photo of my parents, a small locket and handkerchief with pink flowers on it. I sat down on my bed opening the letters in front of me. Two of the letters were ads about new items that I was too tired to look at them .The third letter was the important one. It was from the man that ran the Artist's Struggle. I been sending him pieces of my work that he sells at his shop and gives me part of the earnings .The letter read that my latest painting was sold for 50 dollars and he looks forward to the day we could meet in person. Apart from the letter there was 25 dollars that I quickly put on the jar for future. I laid back on my bed too tired to even undress eventually falling asleep with shoes and all.

May 25, 1947

I sat by the window inside the Atlantic express with pocketbook on my lap. It was the first time I had ever been in one of these, I could see the fish on the outside swimming in groups. I had been on the train for almost an hour, feeling a little queasy. I tried to focus on the fish outside, trying to draft their shapes inside my head but that was only making matters worse. I closed my eyes and tried to think of nothing but it didn't work either. Ten minutes afterwards, the train arrived at the station. As soon as I stepped out I went to get my luggage, composing of two suitcases. I had no canvases I had sold all of the ones I had few weeks ago. Then I walked to the elevator that would lead me to the market street. I looked around for the building I was looking for was going to be my new home. According to the letter I had received a few days ago it was called 907. I looked up at the big sign that said 907 and it had an image of a man with a helmet with wings. I went to the lobby and I was quickly greeted by a man in his 40s of dark skin and well dressed.

"How can I help you today, miss…?" He spoke trailing off waiting for me to finish his sentence. I nodded as a gesture of hello and I introduced myself. "My name is Sylvia Baker. I called in about a room about a week ago and send the money thorough Pneumo"I told him.

He nodded "Oh yes, Miss. Baker, we been expecting you. My name is Frank Miller." he said as he opened a drawer. The drawer was full of keys, he carefully checked every label looking for the right one. Soon enough he found the one with my name.

"Oh here it is, Room 123A."He said then quickly pointing at a man with a cart. "Phil will help you with your luggage. If you need anything I would be here at the front desk" He said. I nodded to him and said good bye to him .Phil put my two suitcases on the cart and we both walked to the room. Phil was wearing the traditional red outfit for someone who is in that line of work.

"What brings you to Rapture, Miss.?" He asked breaking the silence.

"I am an artist" I told him. He smiled at me as if he approved the fact or maybe I looked the type.

"Rapture it is the perfect place to flourish in the arts. "He said as we arrived to my room.

"Here it is Miss." He said as unloading my luggage. I opened the door with my brand new key.

"Thank you for your help "I said to him, handing him a small tip. He put the money in his pocket, tipping his hat. "My pleasure, Miss. Welcome to the building 907."He said. He then left as I moved both suitcases to the inside. I touched the door quickly trying to find the light switch turning on the light. My eyes grew wide as the room looked at least twice as big as my old one did in the Sinclair deluxe did. I put the suitcase with my paint by the sofa. The sofa was a dark brown and it was next to a small television set near another sofa. I took my pocketbook and my other suitcase to the bedroom. On my way there I saw the kitchen that had counters, a fridge, and a stove which for me was new. The bathroom was next to the bedroom .It was small but it had a bathtub so it was quite lovely. I entered my new bedroom and otherwise of the size there was not much difference between my old room and this one. There was a large bed in the middle of the room. The covers were maroon and looked new. There was a safe next to it and a large wardrobe at the end of the wall. I flopped open my suit case on the bed and began to put my dresses, blouses, skirts and other various clothing items as well as shoes in the wardrobe. Then I placed my valuables on the new safe after inputting the code. It was the same code, I asked it to be changed before arriving here. I picked up my bathroom items and set them up where they should go. At last I decided to take a bath before I worried about everything else. After about thirty minutes I left the bathroom, with only a towel around my body and my brown hair dripping on my shoulders. I opened my bag pulling out a small container that had my hair dryer. I plugged it in to the closer outlet, connecting the tube to the bag and the bag to my hair. I sat down patiently as my hair got dry. I felt the heat on my scalp and hairs I stared at the new ceiling. The ceiling was not that interesting but I had nothing else to see at the time. I took the bag off and combed my slightly wavy hair. My hair currently was a shoulder length and it was a light brown color. As soon as that was done I put on some makeup then I went to the wardrobe and picked up a nice outfit. A black blouse, and on top of a white coat and a black skirt the length right to my ankle. I took a glance at my reflection before grabbing my keys and my pocketbook. I needed to introduce myself to the shop keeper at the Artist's Struggle.

I got out of my new home slowly and quietly, looking up just as slow. When I felt my heart stop for a split second. As I came out of my room, another person that lived in front of me was leaving their as well. The person was wearing a mailman suit and hat to match. Their hair was short as most men though. However what made my sheet rouge was the face that the person in front of me was a woman. I felt my eyes grow wide as if I had suddenly forgotten how to speak human languages. Surely my awkwardness was quickly noticed and she looked at me curious with a small smile at the corner of her lips. She rose her hand to wave and looked like she wanted to speak but I quickly ran off before I could hear any word at all. I ran to the end of the street before I stopped to catch my breath. I closed my eyes in disbelief as I was not sure what did I just do or for what reason. I hit my forehead with my hand sadly. I felt blood pounding in my ears and my heart racing .I slightly touched my chest realizing that I had experienced this before back in high school, before I dropped out. I thought to myself a single name before I walked away not sure what I should do or if it matter at all what I did.