"The Vanishing Identity of Eli Parker: A Boulder Mystery"
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The year was 2022, and the sun shone brilliantly over the busy streets of Boulder, Colorado. Elijah "Eli" Parker was an excitable six-year-old, standing at 3'5" and weighing just 40 pounds. His birthday was November 18, 2016, a trivia tidbit he often mentioned proudly to anyone who cared to listen. Eli had sandy blond hair cut in a tousled style that gave him an eternally wind-swept look, and his dark brown eyes sparkled with the innocent curiosity of youth.
Wearing a red T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on it, blue denim overalls, and white sneakers with Velcro straps—Eli felt like he could conquer the world. Today, that world consisted of a small, independent toy store not far from his home. He had been given permission by his young mother, Jessica Parker, to venture out alone for the very first time.
Jessica was not much older than twenty-four, born January 12, 1998. She stood at 5'4" and weighed a modest 125 pounds, her long chestnut hair usually tied back into a practical ponytail. Her vivid green eyes were always filled with a mix of love and concern for her only child. Despite her youthful age, Jessica had the tenacity and wisdom to raise her son on her own, always ensuring that Eli knew he was loved and safe.
Eli had quite a simple yet monumental task for someone his age: find a gift for his first-ever crush, Lily. Lily Johnson was a petite six-year-old, just a bit shorter than Eli at 3'4" and weighing 38 pounds. Her birthday was on May 3, 2016. With her long, wavy auburn hair and cornflower-blue eyes, she was the epitome of childhood charm. Eli had saved some of his allowance and Jessica had given him an extra ten dollars to make the occasion special.
As Eli navigated through the shelves crowded with toys, he spotted the perfect gift: a small, pink, heart-shaped locket necklace inside a velvet box. With a grin from ear to ear, Eli took the locket to the counter, paid with crumpled five-dollar bills, and clutched his receipt like a ticket to happiness as he began his walk back home.
Lost in thoughts of giving the necklace to Lily, Eli didn't realize he had wandered into an unfamiliar part of town. The buildings grew taller and grimmer, their facades marked with chipped paint and graffiti. The windows were barred, and the sidewalks littered with discarded bottles and crumpled paper. Eli's steps slowed as his surroundings grew increasingly unsavory.
A group of rough-looking men sat on the steps of a dingy building, glancing at Eli with a mix of confusion and amusement. A disheveled woman rummaged through an overflowing trash bin nearby. The boy clutched the necklace tighter, but his resolve to find his way out strengthened as he spotted a bench just ahead.
Near the bench lay a slew of belongings: a faded, overloaded purple backpack bursting with mismatched clothes, two large, stained tote bags, a gaudy pink purse with faux-gems, and a pair of platform flip-flops. Tempting curiosity, Eli approached the items, wrinkling his nose at the faint whiff of something unpleasant. In his haste to pass, Eli tripped over an outstretched walking cane lying covered in shadows.
Eli stumbled forward, inadvertently kicking off his shoes and socks, landing barefoot with an "Oomph!" Instinctively trying to protect his feet, he slipped them into the platform flip-flops, only to squirm and kick them off in disgust. As he reached for his shoes and socks to put them back on, a sudden chill made him look twice—his shoes and even his clothing seemed to evaporate!
Panicked, Eli felt his feet cracking and aging, skin roughening and morphing into a more feminine form. "Mommy!" Eli screamed, his voice trembling with fear as his legs began to stretch and feminize, his knees and calves growing leaner yet rougher.
Each moment felt excruciatingly long as his hips and lower torso followed suit, bruising and twisting with an unnatural transformation. His chest expanded as his arms and shoulders narrowed, his hands becoming more delicate but marred with calluses and grime. Eli’s head spun as his hair elongated, darkened, and his young boyish features aged into a tired, mature, feminine visage.
"Mommy!" His voice cracked and matured into a woman's lament. His memories began to blur, fighting to hold onto his identity, but shadows swallowed them whole. "No, please, I'm gonna miss Mommy so much I just—" his words twisted in pain "—I just wanna damn cigarette or a hit off a crack pipe or even a swig of booze, I don't care what the damn cops say and probably a bottle of whiskey. I hate Boulder and Colorado so much."
Left standing in the place of the young boy was a broken woman. Her name was Maggie "Mags" Collins, age thirty-five, born on September 29, 1987. Mags, eyes now a dull brown, had unkempt black hair streaked with gray. Once 5'5" and 110 pounds, she had been homeless for five years, driven there by a mix of addiction and abandonment. Grumbling to herself, she walked over and slipped on the platform flip-flops, looking decrepit and aged well beyond her years.
Feeling a chill, she rifled through her purse and applied some chipped nail polish to her cracked fingernails. She then took out a grimy tube of lip balm, coating her chapped lips quickly. Slinging her purse over one shoulder and the backpack over the other, she hefted the tote bags in her hands, feeling the weight of her existence.
"I'll head into that nearby convenience store; I need some more tampons and razors for my hairy legs, and I could also buy another thing of cheap perfume and some mascara for my caked lashes. No doubt they'll make me leave all my bags up front, even though I'm literally only thirty-five years old," she muttered as she approached the meager shop. "Boulder, Colorado—I hate this damn city. Montana was no better, but at least I wasn’t as cold."
Staring at the platform flip-flops she wore, she sighed. "Thank God my purse and my bags and my backpack and my flip flops were all still where I left them since I had to go and throw up behind a dumpster. I still remember finding the platform flip-flops outside a thrift store—they're so comfortable. I love being a woman; these make me feel like a queen and like a real-life princess, but I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm thirty-five years old, and my worthless father sexually abused me and took my innocence."
Standing before the store, she braced herself. "Hopefully Paula isn't working today, or as I like to call her, Pig Paula, since she's such a fucking bitch. She's the only one that knows I used to be Eli Parker and that I've stolen before and will kick me out."
Maggie took a deep breath and stepped inside.
This story was generated by user manemansteve with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: The year is 2022. A crazy long and thorough and detailed 80 numbered sentences story the way I write about a random 6 eyyar old boy with a description of the boy's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color and what state he's from in the US and what he's wearing. Have him have a crush on a girl with a description of the girl's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Include his young mom's name, age, birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color and style and eye color. Have him be out by himself shopping with his mom's permission looking for a nice gift for the girl he likes with the money his mom gave him and have him spot something running towards and include a description of what the gift was. Have him get the gift with the money his mom gave him and start walking home. Have him get confused and lost as he wandered into an area of town he had never been to. Have him wander around some less nice buildings and vehicles and surroundings with detailed descriptions of everything and include less pleasant scenery of people with detailed descriptions. Have him suddenly spot a backpack and some large tote bags and a purse and a pair of platform flip flops with a description of the backpack and everything feminine inside it and a description of the tote bags and a description of the purse and a description of the platform flip flops. Have him get grossed out at everything as he attempted to walk past everything before tripping over something and include what he tripped over and why accidentally kicking his shoes and socks off and slipping his feet into the platform flip flops by mistake. Have him kick them off and go to put back on his shoes and socks when they suddenly disappeared. Have his clothing suddenly evaporate as his feet started cracking and aging and feminizing and roughening up with detailed descriptions of his feet changing. Have him freak out and yell for his mommy and have it be in quoted text as his legs lengthened and feminized and roughened up with detailed descriptions of his legs and knees and calves and thighs changing. Have his hips and lower torso follow suit as it feminized and changed becoming rough and sprained and bruised with detailed descriptions. Have his chest form as his arms and shoulders and elbows and hands feminized and roughened up and detailed descriptions of his arms and hands and fingers changing. Have his head and hair and eyes and eyebrows and eyelashes and nose and ears and lips and voice and teeth change and feminize and mature with detailed descriptions of his whole body becoming female as his voice slowly matured and feminized as well. Have a very short outfit form on her body and have it be skimpy for the hot weather and be detailed with every part of the feminine outfit forming. Have his memories start changing scaring him as he tried to fight the memories changing. Have his memories finish changing as he was midsentence and he said no please i'm gonna miss mommy so much i just----- i just wanna damn _____ or a hit off a _____ or even a _____ i don't care what the damn _____ say and probably a bottle of _____ i hate ______ and _____ so much and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks calling the cops a rude name. Reveal the homeless woman's name, age, birthday, birth year, height, weight, hair color and style and eye color and what state she was from, how long she had been homeless, why she was homeless and reveal some aggressive and rude facts about her. Have her walk over to her platform flip flops picking them up and sitting down with them. Have her slip them onto her feet with slow and detailed descriptions of her doing so and have her stand up walking over to a mirror and looking down at her feet and looking at the mirror and have her look decrepit mentioning what about her looked off. Have her pick up her purse going through it and putting something on and include what she put on and have her put something else on and what it was and have her put her purse on her shoulder and have her put her backpack on the other shoulder and one of her tote bags on the same shoulder and have her start carrying the other tote bags in her hands. Have her decide she wants to go into a nearby store with the intention of getting some stuff. Have her say I'll head into that nearby _____ i need some more ____ and ____ for my _____ and i could also buy another thing of _____ and some ____ for my _____ no doubt they'll make my leave all my bags up front even though i'm literally only __ years old and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks mentioning a real life store that actually exists and mentioning tons of nasty feminine stuff only. Have her also mention her home state she no longer lives in in a bad way and have it be in quoted text. Have her then drift down to the platform flip flops on her feet saying Thank God my purse and my bags and my backpack and my flip flops were all still where i left them since i had to go and _________________ i still remember finding the platform flip flops ________________________ they're so comfortable i love being a woman these make me feel like a ________ and like a real life _____ but i'm not a little ____ anymore i'm __ years old and my worthless father se____ me and took my inno____ and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks with a sad explanation as to why all her stuff was just on the sidewalk and the sad place she found the platform flip flops. Have her approach the building ready to enter it before saying to herself hopefully _____ isn't working today or as i like to call her ______ since she's such a f_____ b____ she's the only one that knows i'm ______ and that i've _____ before and will kick me out and have it be in quoted text filling in the blanks with a nickname for the employee that's based off the employee's real name.
Response: The year was 2022, and the sun shone brilliantly over the busy streets of Boulder, Colorado. Elijah "Eli" Parker was an excitable six-year-old, standing at 3'5" and weighing just 40 pounds. His birthday was November 18, 2016, a trivia tidbit he often mentioned proudly to anyone who cared to listen. Eli had sandy blond hair cut in a tousled style that gave him an eternally wind-swept look, and his dark brown eyes sparkled with the innocent curiosity of youth. Wearing a red T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on it, blue denim overalls, and white sneakers with Velcro straps—Eli felt like he could conquer the world. Today, that world consisted of a small, independent toy store not far from his home. He had been given permission by his young mother, Jessica Parker, to venture out alone for the very first time. Jessica was not much older than twenty-four, born January 12, 1998. She stood at 5'4" and weighed a modest 125 pounds, her long chestnut hair usually tied back into a practical ponytail. Her vivid green eyes were always filled with a mix of love and concern for her only child. Despite her youthful age, Jessica had the tenacity and wisdom to raise her son on her own, always ensuring that Eli knew he was loved and safe. Eli had quite a simple yet monumental task for someone his age: find a gift for his first-ever crush, Lily. Lily Johnson was a petite six-year-old, just a bit shorter than Eli at 3'4" and weighing 38 pounds. Her birthday was on May 3, 2016. With her long, wavy auburn hair and cornflower-blue eyes, she was the epitome of childhood charm. Eli had saved some of his allowance and Jessica had given him an extra ten dollars to make the occasion special. As Eli navigated through the shelves crowded with toys, he spotted the perfect gift: a small, pink, heart-shaped locket necklace inside a velvet box. With a grin from ear to ear, Eli took the locket to the counter, paid with crumpled five-dollar bills, and clutched his receipt like a ticket to happiness as he began his walk back home. Lost in thoughts of giving the necklace to Lily, Eli didn't realize he had wandered into an unfamiliar part of town. The buildings grew taller and grimmer, their facades marked with chipped paint and graffiti. The windows were barred, and the sidewalks littered with discarded bottles and crumpled paper. Eli's steps slowed as his surroundings grew increasingly unsavory. A group of rough-looking men sat on the steps of a dingy building, glancing at Eli with a mix of confusion and amusement. A disheveled woman rummaged through an overflowing trash bin nearby. The boy clutched the necklace tighter, but his resolve to find his way out strengthened as he spotted a bench just ahead. Near the bench lay a slew of belongings: a faded, overloaded purple backpack bursting with mismatched clothes, two large, stained tote bags, a gaudy pink purse with faux-gems, and a pair of platform flip-flops. Tempting curiosity, Eli approached the items, wrinkling his nose at the faint whiff of something unpleasant. In his haste to pass, Eli tripped over an outstretched walking cane lying covered in shadows. Eli stumbled forward, inadvertently kicking off his shoes and socks, landing barefoot with an "Oomph!" Instinctively trying to protect his feet, he slipped them into the platform flip-flops, only to squirm and kick them off in disgust. As he reached for his shoes and socks to put them back on, a sudden chill made him look twice—his shoes and even his clothing seemed to evaporate! Panicked, Eli felt his feet cracking and aging, skin roughening and morphing into a more feminine form. "Mommy!" Eli screamed, his voice trembling with fear as his legs began to stretch and feminize, his knees and calves growing leaner yet rougher. Each moment felt excruciatingly long as his hips and lower torso followed suit, bruising and twisting with an unnatural transformation. His chest expanded as his arms and shoulders narrowed, his hands becoming more delicate but marred with calluses and grime. Eli’s head spun as his hair elongated, darkened, and his young boyish features aged into a tired, mature, feminine visage. "Mommy!" His voice cracked and matured into a woman's lament. His memories began to blur, fighting to hold onto his identity, but shadows swallowed them whole. "No, please, I'm gonna miss Mommy so much I just—" his words twisted in pain "—I just wanna damn cigarette or a hit off a crack pipe or even a swig of booze, I don't care what the damn cops say and probably a bottle of whiskey. I hate Boulder and Colorado so much." Left standing in the place of the young boy was a broken woman. Her name was Maggie "Mags" Collins, age thirty-five, born on September 29, 1987. Mags, eyes now a dull brown, had unkempt black hair streaked with gray. Once 5'5" and 110 pounds, she had been homeless for five years, driven there by a mix of addiction and abandonment. Grumbling to herself, she walked over and slipped on the platform flip-flops, looking decrepit and aged well beyond her years. Feeling a chill, she rifled through her purse and applied some chipped nail polish to her cracked fingernails. She then took out a grimy tube of lip balm, coating her chapped lips quickly. Slinging her purse over one shoulder and the backpack over the other, she hefted the tote bags in her hands, feeling the weight of her existence. "I'll head into that nearby convenience store; I need some more tampons and razors for my hairy legs, and I could also buy another thing of cheap perfume and some mascara for my caked lashes. No doubt they'll make me leave all my bags up front, even though I'm literally only thirty-five years old," she muttered as she approached the meager shop. "Boulder, Colorado—I hate this damn city. Montana was no better, but at least I wasn’t as cold." Staring at the platform flip-flops she wore, she sighed. "Thank God my purse and my bags and my backpack and my flip flops were all still where I left them since I had to go and throw up behind a dumpster. I still remember finding the platform flip-flops outside a thrift store—they're so comfortable. I love being a woman; these make me feel like a queen and like a real-life princess, but I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm thirty-five years old, and my worthless father sexually abused me and took my innocence." Standing before the store, she braced herself. "Hopefully Paula isn't working today, or as I like to call her, Pig Paula, since she's such a fucking bitch. She's the only one that knows I used to be Eli Parker and that I've stolen before and will kick me out." Maggie took a deep breath and stepped inside.
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