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Question: Story: Write me a story the way I write about 9 year old Isabella at her 10 year old friend Ahmed's house for the first time. Isabella had finally been invited over by Ahmed who she had a crush on and he had a crush on her too. Ahmed's only problem with having Isabella over was his 49 year old mom Aatimah. Aatimah was a traditional Muslim woman who believed Ahmed should only marry within his faith and only within his race though Ahmed disagreed which greatly angered Aatimah. Aatimah was wearing a traditional Muslim dress and scarf and hijab and shoes as she stomped towards Isabella swiping her phone. Please have Aatimah say the quote "لا هواتف وابن، كيف تجرؤ على إحضار هذا غير المؤمن إلى منزلنا، يجب أن تخجل" Aatimah then decided to leave the house to do some shopping to calm her nerves. Once Aatimah disappeared, Isabella decided on getting her phone back. Sneaking into Aatimah's room, Isabella scrunched her nose at all the Muslim items including the Quran and all the dresses and scarves and hijabs. Isabella even noticed Aatimah left her purse behind. Isabella spotted her phone on a shelf in the closet. Climbing the shelves carefully, Isabella grabbed her phone losing balance. Please have Aatimah's purse land on Isabella's shoulder and have Isabella's feet land in a pair of Aatimah's sandals. Please have Isabella cringe as she removes the sandals and the purse before tending to her phone. Suddenly, Isabella's feet started cracking and aging before changing color and looking more like Aatimah's. Isabella's eyes widened as she realized this and started freaking out. Please have Isabella's clothes evaporate off her body. Isabella's arms and legs lengthened and feminized changing color into Aatimah's. Isabella's torso matured and feminized as she gained Aatimah's boobs as her torso changed color to brown. Please have Isabella say the quote "This isn't fair! I love Ahmed and he loves me. We just wanted to be happy! Now I'm turning into his mom when his mom didn't care about his happiness? I feel so bad I'm not gonna get to be with him" with tears in her eyes. Isabella's head started changing into Aatimah's as her hair turned black and long and her eyes turned brown and alluring and her teeth turned straight and white and her skin turned brown and her voice matured into Aatimah's pitch and accent. Slowly, Isabella felt her memories changing. Please have a small part of Isabella hope she'll be a kinder and more understanding mom than the real Aatimah was only to have her hopes crushed as she sees visions of herself as Aatimah being just as traditional and dismissive of Ahmed as the real Aatimah was. A Muslim dress forms around Isabella as a hijab forms on her head along with a scarf as Isabella's final memories morph entirely into the memories of Aatimah until she only remembered being Aatimah. The new Aatimah looks around her bedroom menacingly with a certain confidence in her eyes and on her mind. Please have Aatimah spot her sandals slipping them on before picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. Please have Aatimah start clip clopping across her bedroom only to accidentally step on Isabella's phone. Aatimah picks up the phone in her hand and looks at it angrily. Please have Aatimah say the quote "كانت العاهرة الصغيرة في غرفتي تحاول إفساد ابني الغبي أكثر" Aatimah drops the phone on the ground. Please have Aatimah stomp on it and throw it away before walking over to the mirror and adjusting her hijab and saying a quick prayer from the Quran to calm herself down. Please have Aatimah say the quote "أحمد، أنا أضع قدمي ولن ترى إيزابيلا بعد الآن، سوف تطيعني لأنني والدتك وإذا لم تفعل ذلك سأجعل حياتك صعبة للغاية" Aatimah then walked back over to the mirror and looked at her reflection. She smiled as she admired her beauty before leaving her room and going to confront her son once again having no memory of being 9 year old Isabella and having no memory of wanting to be a better Aatimah than the real one all cause she wanted Aatimah to be understanding about her love for Ahmed and be open-minded.
Story: One sunny afternoon, 9-year-old Isabella was at her friend Ahmed's house for the first time. She'd been harbouring a sweet crush on him, a feeling he reciprocated. However, the only hindrance was Ahmed's mother - 49-year-old Aatimah. Aatimah was a traditional Muslim woman, always dressed in her customary Islamic attire, a believer that her son should only marry within their faith and race. This made a visit from little Isabella quite a stir. In her vibrant dress, layered with a colorful hijab that framed her stern face, Aatimah approached Isabella and gruffly said, "لا هواتف وابن، كيف تجرؤ على إحضار هذا غير المؤمن إلى منزلنا، يجب أن تخجل," before taking away Isabella's phone. A little later, Aatimah needed an outlet for her frustration and decided to head out for some shopping. As soon as Aatimah was out of sight, Isabella made the decision to retrieve her phone from Aatimah's room which was laden with Islamic items, including the Quran and traditional Islamic attire. Spotting her phone on a shelf in the closet, Isabella carefully climbed the shelves. A mishap led to Aatimah's purse landing on Isabella's shoulder and her feet slipping into a pair of Aatimah's sandals, causing Isabella to cringe and remove them hastily. Suddenly, she noticed something strange. Her feet began to change, cracking and aging. They were turning into Aatimah's. Her body too began altering - her arms, legs, torso all astonishingly transforming into Aatimah's. A look of absolute terror clouded her face as tears pooled in her eyes, "This isn't fair! I love Ahmed and he loves me. We just wanted to be happy! Now I'm turning into his mom when his mom didn't care about his happiness? I feel so bad I'm not gonna get to be with him." The transformation was horrifyingly quick, and soon, her head began modifying. Her memories were replaced with that of Aatimah's and despite some initial resistance, Isabella's hopes of being a kinder and more understanding mother than Aatimah, were crushed. Now completely transformed into Aatimah, she glanced around her own room with a confident gaze. Spotting the sandals that she had discarded earlier, the new Aatimah slipped them on along with her purse. Walking across the bedroom, she stepped on something hard. Picking up Isabella's phone with a rough grasp she growled, "كانت العاهرة الصغيرة في غرفتي تحاول إفساد ابني الغبي أكثر," flinging the phone aside, she trampled it underfoot before looking at herself in the mirror. There she was, a shiny image of Aatimah. After a quick prayer to calm herself down, she muttered, "أحمد، أنا أضع قدمي ولن ترى إيزابيلا بعد الآن، سوف تطيعني لأنني والدتك وإذا لم تفعل ذلك سأجعل حياتك صعبة للغاية" She had no recollection of ever being the young, innocent Isabella. Standing there, adjusting her hijab, she admired her reflection before leaving to confront Ahmed, oblivious to the fight that the little 9-year-old inside her had given for his happiness.
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