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Question: Write me a story the way I write about a random 12 year old boy and right what part of the US he's from, what his name is, his height, his appearance, what he sounds like and what he's wearing and his mom's name, age, height and what she looks like and his dad's name, age, height and what he looks like and his sister's name, age, height and what she looks like and his brother's name, age, height and what he looks like. Have him wake up in the body of a female family member he's never met before including the name of the female, her height, her age, what state she's in, whether or not she talks to her family and have him wake up in short girly revealing clothing with descriptions of the clothing and revealing feminine shoes with descriptions of the shoes. Have him want to go home but be unable to turn back. Have him walk up to the mirror seeing his female reflection and get dizzy and start suffering an anxiety attack as his eyes glanced down to his painted toes and have him say the quote "Oh my God! What do I do? What do I do? I don't know how to drive! I don't know where I am! I'm sorry! I guess I didn't appreciate my family enough but I want another chance!" in his new female voice before crying realizing he was never swapping back.
Sure, here's a story incorporating your criteria: Once upon a time in the small, quiet town of Harrow, Michigan lived a broad-shouldered boy named Jack Carter, who was only 12 years old. Standing at about 5'2", Jack had sandy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a couple of fading freckles scattered across his button-like nose and a voice with a deepening twang. He was usually seen sporting T-shirts, well-worn jeans, and white basketball sneakers, which were often dusty from playing outdoors with his slightly taller, athletic older brother, Alex, who was 15 and had a similar likeness to him. His mother, Susan Carter, was a poised 38-year-old woman, standing at 5'5", with smooth, golden-brown hair and hazel eyes that sparkled under the beaming sun. His father, Peter Carter, was a robust man of 41 years, standing at a solid height of 6'0". He had short-cropped peppered hair and eyes of steel blue. Together, they also had a thirteen-year-old dainty daughter named Lisa, who stood 5'0" tall, with shiny curls the color of a cherry wood, and her father's steel-blue eyes. One day, Jack woke up with a start. He was not in his usual blue-washed room nor his Batman pajamas but in a well-furnished, elegantly decorated room wearing sheer pink ruffled sleepwear and black strapped high-heels with crystal embellishments in an extra feminine touch. His panic arose as he realized he was now in the body of a woman he had never met. Her name was Cynthia Johnston, 27 years old, elegantly tall at 5'8", living all the way in sunny San Diego, California. She was a recluse only contacting her family during emergencies. Seeing his reflection in the full-length mirror, he traced the unfamiliar female curves, auburn hair and his, rather her, painted toes. The reflection was alluring, but it wasn't his. He could feel an anxious panic attack rising inside him. Numbness spread through his body as he succumbed to the anxiety. Cynthia's voice came out of his mouth, soft and high pitched, "Oh my God! What do I do? What do I do? I don't know how to drive! I don't know where I am! I'm sorry! I guess I didn't appreciate my family enough but I want another chance!" His vision started to blur as droplets of tears streamed down, marking the raw realization that he would not be swapping back.
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