The Lost Boy's Transformation: A Tale of Unexpected Change in the Woods

In the bustling year of 2021, in the seasonal state of Michigan, lived a young boy named Charlie Baker. Charlie was only six years of age, reminiscent of his year of birth being 2015. He was a lively young sprout, standing at 3 feet 8 inches tall, and tipping the scales only slightly at a youthful weight of 45 pounds. Charlie commemorated his birthday on the 19th of May. He sported a head of wheat brown hair which was kept invariably short and neat. His large, vibrant blue eyes were often mistaken for the color of the very lakes that surrounded his homeland. Adeline Baker, more affectionately known as Addy among her close friends, was Charlie's young and devoted mother. Addy was born on the 7th of March, 1995, making her 26 years of age during the current year. She was petitely built, only standing 5 feet 2 inches tall, and maintaining a healthy weight of 120 pounds. Adeline adorned luscious chestnut hair usually worn in a loose bun and charming hazel eyes that held the warmth of the receding Michigan winter sun. Adam Baker, the father, was no longer in Charlie's life for reasons kept closely to heart. He was born on the 12th of August, 1993, making him 28 years of age. With a notable height of 6 feet, Adam weighed a healthy 190 pounds. He sported a dyed blonde hair that was always styled back into a pompadour and his eyes were entrancing greens, resembling the evergreen forests of their state. Sophie Baker, Charlie's aunt and Adeline's sister, was a sweet 24-year-old woman. The dainty woman was still taller than her sister though, standing 5 feet 5 inches tall and maintaining a weight of 115 pounds. Born on the 27th of February 1997, the natural redhead Sophie was decorated with freckles that framed her gentle, brown eyes. Uncle Davey, the busy uncle, aged 30, was usually wrapped in his work. Born on June 14, 1991, 6 foot 1 inch tall Davey had a brawny build, weighing in at 200 pounds. Davey maintained his dark brown hair in a classic undercut style and his piercing blue eyes contradicted his generally soft nature. Charlie's loving grandma, Carol Baker, with joy in her heart, was celebrating her 67th year of life. She was born on 22nd of April, 1954, and was a woman of short stature, being 5 feet tall, and held a weight of 130 pounds. Her steel grey hair was usually tied into a comfortably loose bun. Her bright, twinkling, blue eyes were the windows to the decades of love and wisdom she had received and bestowed upon her family. One fateful day, young Charlie was making his way home alone for the first time. His path lay through the sketchy woods that tangled between his school and home. The snug new shoes and tight socks he wore had started to hurt, pricking his innocent feet with discomfort. Stumbling upon an abandoned rolling bag, Charlie's curiosity won over caution. The bag was full of adult women clothing, clearly belonging to someone who may have been homeless. Items ranged from threadbare coats to torn blouses and revealing skirts. A hideous pair of skimpy shoes lay among the pile, the once-decorative sequins barely hanging onto the worn-out material. Adjacent to the rolling bag was a purse. Inside were the remnants of someone's femininity; cheap makeup, sanitary napkins, a collection of sunglasses and some loose change. Feeling overwhelmed by the odd findings, Charlie's words quivered in the still, cold air of the woods,"I-I'm getting-th scared out here... I wanna go... home." With a pang of fear gnawing at his stomach, Charlie decided to walk faster, but upon tripping over something, he found himself wearing the garishly strappy wedge sandals he had fiddled with previously. The discomfort quickly replaced by terror, he was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of metamorphosis. His young skin began to age and mature horrifically, and his boyish clothes evaporated into nothingness. The shoes felt jammed onto his tiny feet as they reluctantly widened and aged into an old woman's. "A-ah... I's gonna miss mommy... and grandma," Charlie sobbed, changing as he stumbled backward. "I didn't do no wrong... I just wanna go home. I don't wanna be an icky girl..." In his fear, Charlie began to sing an American lullaby his mother had taught him to calm down. He looked down again. Where his feet had been, emerged the cracked and aged feet of an old woman, shod in the very shoes he had tripped over. His body was covered in the revealing clothes, now appearing on him, filled with the same dirt and grime as its previous owner. "A-tisket, a-ta-a-aah... My head... it feels... feels like," Charlie's voice was warping, aging. He sounded like the owner of the clothes he now wore. Charlie was then replaced by an older woman with disheveled hair. She spied her cheap wedge sandals lying ahead and let out a sigh of relief. "Oh! My beautiful shoes!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the woods. Putting each foot in its respective shoe, the woman hoisted her shabby purse onto her shoulder and picked up her rolling bag. She threw something random down her throat, mumbling about being a happy princess and being on the run. The woman, Lindsay Stokes, aged 40 to be exact, of 5 foot 5, weighing 160 pounds, born 26th July 1981, discovered she was homeless in 2017. With mismatched hair that was a chaotic mix of blond and brown and eyes so dull they lost their color, she was wearing a torn tank top and short shorts. Lindsay was known to suffer from schizophrenia, often losing herself to reality's confines. Squinting in the sunlight that seeped through the woodland canopy, Lindsay pulled on a pair of sunglasses from her purse. "God damn it. Why the fuck am I missing so much time today!" She spat the words into the cool forest air, an ephemeral ghost of her previous self. "I never left these damn woods, so what happened to me?"