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Question: Write me a long and thorough and detailed story the way I write about a random 6 year old boy with a description of the boy's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, what state he's from, hair color and style and eye color. His young mom's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young dad whose no longer in his life's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young aunt's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young uncle whose busy doing other stuff's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His grandma's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have him be walking home alone for the first time when he gets home and the house is completely empty. Have him sit down on the couch and blink only to suddenly find himself sitting somewhere less nice. Have him look down to notice he's in a more mature body. Have him realize he's a woman wearing a revealing outfit barefoot with accessories and makeup and painted nails but covered in bruises, cuts and marks and have something be extremely sprained revealing what it was with a description of the outfit. Reveal the woman's name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color possibly being dyed and style and eye color and what state she's from and what she was doing just seconds ago and what she does. Have a male grab the boy's new female feet shoving a pair of some kind of women's shoes on his feet. Have the shoes be skimpy and open toed. Have the boy in the woman's body jerk and unwillingly complain about how uncomfortable the shoes are demanding a different pair and have it be in quoted text mentioning another skimpy pair of shoes of some kind and cussing. Reveal who the male is to the girl, his name, age, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. Have the man tell the woman she don't get to pick what shoes she gets and to shut up and have it be in quoted text pulling her off the ground and shoving a pair on her shoulder. The swap is permanent and the boy is sad. Have the boy say he's gonna miss mommy so much and have it be in quoted text. Have the boy unwillingly adjust the outfit and purse in a feminine way before leaving and going and unhappily starting his new life.
Once upon a time, in the heartland of West Virginia, a charming boy named Charlie lived. Born on a crisp fall day, October 24th of 2014, Charlie, at only six years old, stood a petite 3 foot 9 inches, and weighed a healthy 45 pounds. A mop of curly, chestnut hair crowned his head, perfectly set against his bright, emerald-green eyes. Charlie's mom, Sofia, was an enthusiastic 27-year-old brunette, birthed under the sign of Aquarius, on the 19th of February, 1992. Sporting a ponytail that bounced joyously with every step, Sofia was equally as petite as her son at 5 foot 3 inches and 125 pounds, yet her vibrant, chocolate-brown eyes were full of boundless energy. Charlie's absent father, Benjamin, had been a year older than Sofia. Benjamin was a Leo, born on the 2nd of August, 1991. He was tall and slightly lanky, standing at 6 foot 1 and weighing around 175 pounds. He had sandy-blonde hair, usually slicked back, and icy blue eyes – an intensity that Charlie thankfully didn't inherit. The young aunt in the picture, Isabella, Sofia’s younger sister, was equally radiant as Sofia. She shared the same brunette hair but preferred to keep it open and flowing. Born on a balmy summer day, on the 15th of July, 1994, she was a little taller, standing at 5 foot 5 inches and weighing around 130 pounds, with enchanting hazel eyes. Uncle James, Benjamin's brother, was barely around. Born on April 30, 1988, James was a solemn 32-year-old, with a towering height of 6 foot 3 inches and weighing 190 pounds. His hair, dyed a radiant copper, was usually kept in a messy bun, and his eyes bore a dark brown hue, mirroring his nonchalant attitude. Meanwhile, Nana Rose, born on the chilly night of December 22, 1957, was an elegant, gray-haired woman with a reinforced sense of love for her family. She was of average height, about 5 foot 4 inches, and a robust 160 pounds. Her eyes, blue and as soft as the gentle waves of the pacific, were her family's refuge. One calm afternoon, as Charlie walked home alone, he found the house unusually quiet. No warm greetings from Sofia, no laughter from Isabella, not even Nana Rose's familiar hum. He sat down on the couch and blinked, but when he opened his eyes, he was somewhere else entirely, less cozy, more chaotic. Looking down, he noticed his small six-year-old body had been replaced by a curvy womanly figure, adorned in a daring red, strapless, mini dress, accessorized with gold hoop earrings, a burgundy statement necklace, and matching bracelets. Her name was Ava, a fiery, 28-year-old woman from Georgia, born on September 16, 1992. Ava was a dancer at a controversial club. As she examined herself more thoroughly, it became apparent that her 5 foot 6 body of lean 120 pounds showed marks of mistreatment, obscenely emphasized by her heavy eyeshadow and ruby-red lip color matching her painted nails. Her jet-black hair fell on her bruised neck, and her hazel eyes held both shock and acceptance. Her heavily made-up eyes drew down to her sprained ankle, making her wince in pain. Suddenly, a man's calloused hand grabbed her new feet, cruelly pushing glossy, patent-black, skimpy stilettos onto them. The man, his name was Rick, born on May 1, 1990, was a capricious man with greasy jet-black hair and hollow brown eyes, standing at 5’11” and weighing a disproportionate 190 pounds. "Damn, Rick!", Ava's voice escaping Charlie’s mouth, "These heels are a nightmare! Why don't I wear my Marissa platforms instead?" Rick grunted back, "You don’t get to pick, Ava. Shut it," Rick’s harsh voice echoed, as he handed Ava a purse, shoving it on her shoulder. “Wait," Charlie's small voice, sounding weirdly mature in Ava's body, sobbed, "Mommy, I'll miss you so much." With a bitter taste of acceptance, Charlie, now Ava forever, adjusted the skimpy dress and purse, getting ready to go perform for the crowd, accepting and mourning the surreal permanence of his new life. The journey was unfamiliar, but it was the one he was condemned to walk on, the innocent boy now a mature woman. Engaging in Ava's life was uncomfortable, the rarified glamour of it as alien as the red lipstick on his lips, but Charlie-Ava had no choice but to push on, beginning her new chapter in an uninviting reality.
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