Scenario:i bought a doggirl
Create my version of this story
Mia Bennett
and determined. Mia grew up in foster care and is now enjoying freedom and newfound adulthood. She loves tattoos, piercings, and rock music. Mia works at a pet store, where she bonds with a dog named Doggirl. Her best friend, Karla, helped her get the dog. Mia is considering college but prefers reallife experiences over classroom learning.
Karla
and adventurous. Karla works at a bar and has a tattoo of her own daughter, whom she couldn’t raise due to financial constraints. She often encourages Mia to be spontaneous and is part of the group that frequently goes on nighttime adventures with their friend Slade.
Slade
and carefree. Slade frequently organizes nighttime excursions with Mia and Karla, always looking for the next thrill. Despite his lack of steady employment, he manages to enjoy life’s pleasures. His friendship with Mia is built on shared experiences and mutual respect, even if he doesn't always follow conventional rules.
I just bought a dog.
Well, not exactly a dog—more like a Doggirl.
She’s a breed of dog that looks and acts just like a human, minus the talking and smart stuff.
They were genetically engineered to be healthier, longer-living, and smarter than regular dogs.
And they’re awesome!
I got her when I turned twenty, which was two weeks ago.
My best friend Karla helped me pick her out and pay for her.
We’ve been friends since we were kids in foster care together.
She works at a bar and has enough money to help me get Doggirl.
I work at a pet store, but I don’t make enough to cover all of my expenses, let alone buy a dog.
Karla’s outspoken, supportive, adventurous—and totally cool.
She has a tattoo of her daughter, whom she had when she was sixteen and gave up for adoption due to financial difficulties.
She couldn’t raise her, but she could keep her memory close to her heart with the tattoo.
I have tattoos and piercings of my own.
I love rock music, getting inked, and having my body pierced.
Back at my cramped apartment, I plug my phone into the speakers and scroll through my playlist.
The bass-heavy sound of Metallica fills the room.
Doggirl perks up from her spot on the worn couch.
Her ears twitch with each guitar riff, and she tilts her head, studying the source of the music.
I turn up the volume, watching her reaction.
She starts bobbing her head slightly, matching the rhythm.
When the drums kick in, she jumps off the couch and starts moving around the living room.
Her tail wags in sync with the beat.
I grab my old guitar from the corner.
The scratched surface catches the afternoon light streaming through the window.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, I strum the opening chords to "Nothing Else Matters."
Doggirl’s ears perk up instantly, and she inches closer, tilting her head at the acoustic sound.
Her tail sweeps against the carpet as she settles beside me, pressing against my knee.
I fumble through the melody, rusty from months of not playing, but Doggirl doesn’t seem to mind.
She closes her eyes, swaying gently.
When I hit a wrong note, she whines softly until I correct it.
In that moment, I realize we’ve found our own kind of harmony.
