A redheaded girl laid down on her bed, in her home in western America. She was currently listening to some music on her phone, her earbuds planted in her ears like normal. She often did this when she was bored. It was easy to lose herself to her wide selection of music, mostly rock and metal. That's about it.

The girl's room was decorated with all kinds of posters, mostly advertising the different bands that she listened to. In the corner of her room there was a guitar that she once tried to play, but she couldn't get the hang of it, so it was doomed to stay there until she was tired of seeing it in her room.

On the far side of her room, opposite of the bed, was a small terrarium where she kept all of her pet spiders. She had many of those pets and...they don't last long. The oldest one has been alive for about a year, and even then the redhead was sure it was dead. It rarely ever moved and she often had to put food right next to it so it could eat. Waste of space, really.

Alma removed one of her earbuds to listen to her surroundings. When she heard the whirring of a power drill, like she did an hour before, she put the earbud back in her ear and continued to browse the internet. Her dad was making another stupid piece of furniture. Probably another birdhouse. Her father was obsessed with birds, and she had no idea why…but that's not what we're focusing on! What is the girl's name?

ALMA SUMMERS

That's right! Her name is Alma Summers, and she's your typical teenage girl, and with your typical teenage girl there comes typical interests. For Alma, her interests seemed to be rock music and spiders. Kind of edgy, huh? Well, she'd disagree with you, that's for sure. She doesn't find herself edgy...though who's going to admit they're edgy? Well, whatever. Let's just keep moving.

Suddenly, her phone notified her of a message on her pesterchum. It must have been one of her friends. She had many online friends, much more than her real life friends, which she had none of. Unfortunately, she couldn't meet any of them in real life. They're too far away. Distance was stupid, wasn't it? Alma opened her pesterchum app and began to pester with her chums. ...who calls friends "chums" anymore? Ugh, whatever.

troubleTimes (TT) has begun pestering almandCream (AC)

TT: Hello, Alma. How are you doing today?

AC: im doing pretty good.

AC: just bored out of my mind because i got nothing to do

AC: and my dad is making something downstairs, like always.

AC: its annoying.

TT: So, it's what happens everyday?

AC: just about.

TT: That sounds nice.

TT: Hey, have you heard of a game called SBURB?

AC: sburb? no, never heard of it. why?

TT: Well, you see, I have obtained the game and I thought you wanted to play it.

TT: All three of us can play.

TT: You, me and Hope, if she's available.

AC: the mail actually goes to that little island of yours?

TT: Well, I'm sure the mail goes just about anywhere.

TT: The mail is an unstoppable force, you know.

TT: They go through rain, sleet and snow just to deliver parcels and letters. It is truly a brave thing that the mail people do. They are the soldiers of free speech and delivery between long distances. They are the bringers of news, good or bad. It's a thing we really take for granted, but I'm glad it's there.

AC: ...holy shit.

AC: you realized you just went on a rant about mail, right?

TT: You realize my opinions on the matter now, right?

AC: yes, i do.

TT: Very good. Now, do you want to play with me and Hope?

AC: its just going to be us three?

AC: why not ask our other friends?

TT: I tried. I couldn't contact them. I'll try later.

TT: Honestly, EE is probably just taking a nap. I'll contact him in an hour or so.

AC: yeah, that guys always asleep.

AC: so lazy.

TT: Yes, very.

TT: So, are you in or not?

AC: yeah yeah im in.

AC: im guessing i can buy the game at a store?

TT: That should be the correct guess.

TT: You could just go to the nearest gaming store and it should be there.

TT: That's how my sister had gotten the game for me, and I thank her for that.

AC: okay, so i should probably head out then.

TT: Yes, you probably should.

TT: In the meantime, I'll be cleaning my room.

AC: okay you always clean your room really you should give the dust a chance to settle.

TT: No, I will not rest until everything is clean. There is so much that could be cleaned. I haven't checked under my bed in two days. You know how much can collect under there?

AC: no i don't and i really don't want to.

AC: anyways, i'll be leaving. have fun with your cleaning.

AC: i'll have to talk to my dad and ask for money.

AC: that should be fun.

TT: Yes, well, goodbye. Stay safe. I will see you later.

AC: yep see ya.

AlmandCream (AC) has ceased Pestering TroubleTimes (TT)

Alma turned her phone off and sat up on her bed. She put her phone in her pocket and grabbed a lighter that laid on a nightstand near her bed. She grabbed a small cigarette packet and opened it up. Only two cigarettes left? Ugh. She'd have to buy some more, then. Always a pain.

Alma flicked her lighter on and moved the flame towards the end of the cigarette. Once it hung there for a few moments, she put the cigarette to her mouth and inhaled. She stood up, moving the cigarette from her mouth and exhaling. As she took another puff of her cigarette, she walked over to her room window and opened it to let in some fresh air. She would rather not choke on smoke.

Alma rested her elbow against the windowsill and rested her head on her hand as she looked out the window. She watched the cars zooming past and could hear the horns honking over the sound of her father's construction. The city was always so loud. She hated it. No one could keep quiet and let her listen to her music in peace.

The redhead shook her head and walked towards the door. She needed to get out of here and talk to her dad about giving her some money. It shouldn't be a long conversation. Her dad doesn't talk much at all, and when he does it's short sentences, and they're so quiet you usually can't hear him over all of the construction he does.

Alma grabbed the doorknob and, with another puff of her cigarette, turned it and opened it. The construction sounds were amplified as the barrier was removed and Alma winced slightly, turning up her rock music to ear damaging levels. Her father was so noisy...he should just quiet…

Alma sighed and began her way down the stairs. On her way down, she pushed the end of her cigarette against the wall and put it in a small wastebasket next to the stairs. Her father knew that she smoked, and he'd often ask her to stop doing it. Alma wasn't going to, but the only reason why she threw away her cigarette was so they didn't have to have that conversation again.

The girl reached the end of the stairs and walked into the living room, finding that it was filled with sawdust, piles of wood and two-by-fours, and woodshop tools. This wasn't a new sight for Alma. When school was still in session, she woke up to this sight every morning, and often her dad was even adding more cup up wood to the pile. Does this guy ever sleep?

Alma then walked into the kitchen, where her father was taking a saw to a small, carved owl. Well, it was better than a bird house, but it was still something having to do with birds. Her dad was really weird…

"Hey, dad?" she asked. The father, as soon as he heard his daughter, stopped the saw and looked towards her with a tilted head, saying nothing.

"Can I have, like, twenty bucks? I want to buy a game to play with my friends. It probably costs twenty bucks."

The father thought for a moment before nodding, smiling at his daughter.

"Oh, you'll give it to me?" Alma asked, almost surprised by the answer. She nodded and walked over to her parental figure. Once she got there, she put one hand on her hip and held out her other hand. "Well, hand it over, then."

Her father then, to her displeasure, shook his head, causing the girl to frown. Her father had an idea, and his ideas were usually pretty stupid, so Alma was not happy about this.

"What is it?" she asked, and in response, her father handed her a paint brush and gestured to the owl he was sculpting out of wood. Alma looked at the brush and then at the owl and then at her father. "You want me to paint this thing?"

The father nodded and pulled out his own paintbrush. He looked pleased with himself. Like he was finally able to get some father and daughter time with his little girl, but the daughter didn't looked as pleased as the father.

"Fine, fine, whatever," she muttered. "Where's the paint? Let's get this over with…"

This was going to take a while...let's look at something else.

=== Be the other girl