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Question: The year is 2021. 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 mentioned, height, weight, birthday, birth year, what state he's from, hair color and style and eye color. His young mom's name, age mentioned, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young dad whose no longer in his life's name, age mentioned, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young aunt's name, age mentioned, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His young uncle whose busy doing other stuff's name, age mentioned, height, weight, birthday, birth year, hair color and style and eye color. His grandma's name, age mentioned, height, weight, birthday mentioned, birth year mentioned, hair color and style and eye color. Have him be walking home alone for the first time. Have him be walking through some sketchy woods. Have his shoes and socks start hurting for some reason as he decided to take them off. Have the boy spot a rolling bag walking up to it going through it curiously with the items being random weird homeless woman items and some clothing with specific items listed. Have the boy spot a bag or purse of some kind with a description of what's inside being random homeless woman trash that made no sense and some feminine items and nasty things with descriptions of everything including foil and a lighter and a spoon. Have the boy suddenly get uncomfortable saying it's getting scary out here i wanna go home and have it be in quoted text with words spelled different cause of a lisp. Have the boy decide to walk faster out of fear but keeping his head up and not looking at the ground. Have the boy trip over something losing his balance before looking down realizing he accidentally tripped over a disgusting pair of women's feminine open toed shoes and managed to slip them on by accident with a description of the nasty shoes included with what they looked like. Have the boy go to remove them when his clothing evaporated and disappeared scaring him. Have the boy try to remove the shoes when his feet started cracking and aging into female feet with toes bent and sprained and bruised. Have the boy frantically pull the shoes removing them but not stopping the changes. Have the boy say he's gonna miss mommy and grandma so much and he didn't do anything wrong and just wanted to go home and he doesn't wanna be an icky girl and have it be in quoted text with words spelled wrong cause of a lisp. Have the boy be scared as he worriedly started singing a song his mom always taught him to sing when he was scared and have it be in quoted text. Have his own shoes and socks disappear completely worrying him. Have his whole body morph and mature into the woman's with cuts and sprains and bruises and stains as a matted and skimpy and torn outfit formed on him as he looked exactly like the woman minus her rolling bag and purse and shoes with a description of the matted and skimpy torn outfit included. Have the boy's memories start altering as his voice became raspy and toothless. Have the boy continue singing the song to calm himself down as his memories altered completely as he was singing an American lullaby and have it be in quoted text as it having the quoted text morph midway through becoming her saying random things to no one in particular about foil candy as she called it and how she loved her foil candy and who was going through her things and have it be in quoted text as she started wandering aimlessly in the dark woods staying near her stuff. Have the woman smile as she finished talking about nothing spotting her feminine shoes and rolling bag and purse. She then walked over to where her purse was picking it up with a step by step process on what she was doing with her movements with the purse being nonsense as she eventually put it on her shoulder before spotting her shoes. Have her only coherent thought be about how happy she was to find her shoes and have it be in quoted text before rambling about something else as well. Have her then pick up her skimpy shoes sitting down. Have her bend down shoving each shoe in it's rightful spot onto her feet with a step by step process on what she was doing. Have her then grab her rolling bag grabbing random things out of it and talking to those things and have it be in quoted text mentioning people being after her as she put something random in her mouth. Reveal the homeless and schizophrenic woman's name, age being older than his grandma, height, weight being underweight, birthday, birth year being older than his grandma, how long she had been homeless for, what she was currently wearing, hair color and style being unkempt and gross with a description of what it looked like, eye color and what she thought she was doing. Have her have to use the bathroom throwing her purse on the ground and running to a tree and going to the bathroom getting the tree dirty. Have her cover herself back up smelling bad as she had pooped and ran back over to her purse picking it up and putting it on her shoulder as she continued walking through the forest. Have her spot something random saying something that made no sense about being lied to by her purse and hating trespassers and have it be in quoted text having no memory of being a 6 year old boy. Have reality change to where she now was wandering aimlessly in the forest unable to find her stuff until now and a vision of a little boy flashed through her mind and she convinced herself the little boy had told her the truth about something random with the thing being mentioned having no memory of being that very same 6 year old boy.
In the year of 2021, in the small town of Ashbrook, Massachusetts, lived a sprightly six-year-old boy named Ethan. Ethan, born on a chilly November 2nd in 2015, with his silky chestnut hair cut short on his small 3 feet 9 inches build and his twinkling blue eyes that were full of curiosity, had just returned a robust 40 pounds. His journey of life was still in its early chapters, but one filled with dreams and ambitions. Ethan's warm home was shared with his mother, Emily, a young and energetic woman who came to be 24 years old. Emily, who gave birth to Ethan when she was just a scrawny teenager, was born on an icy January 12th in 1997. This young woman had blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in silky waves and had forest green eyes that shone with warmth. Emily stood at 5 feet 6 inches tall and weighed a healthy 130 pounds. His father, Eric, despite being absent from Ethan's life, was a figure often conjured in their conversations. The handsome man born on sunny July 15th 1994, now vibrated at the ripe age of 27. Outfitted with spiky black hair, deep blue eyes radiating mystery, and an outstanding height of 6 feet 2 inches, he counterbalanced his sleek silhouette with a weight of 180 pounds. In Ethan's small close-knit family, his two other pillars of support were his jovial Aunt Ashley and his busy Uncle Aaron. Ashley, with her birth on July 10th, 1989, was now 31 years old. Possessing the perfect blend of beauty and grace, her red hair stylishly bunned up perfectly complemented her hazel eyes. The reasonably tall woman stood 5 feet 8 inches off the ground and weighed just around 150 pounds. Ethan's Uncle Aaron, on the other hand, who often found himself immersed in other engagements, still held a special place in Ethan's heart. Born on the windy night of March 1st, 1986, at the age of 35, Aaron sported a crew cut with jet-black hair and brown eyes. He was about 5 feet 10 inches tall and weighed 165 pounds. Ethan's grandma, whom he affectionally referred to as Gigi, was an elegant lady, born on a snow-filled December 1st back in 1955. Sharing her wisdom accumulated 65 years, she wore her aging crown with grace. Her hair now a sterling silver bob-cut showcased a pair of intelligent grey eyes. This proud woman of 5 feet 4 inches tall weighed around 150 pounds. One particular evening, young Ethan found himself chaperoning his shadow back home for the first time. Bearing the responsibility of his independence, the pathway led him through some overgrown woods. As the sun was consumed by the horizon, Ethan's shoes began to rub against his skin making him uncomfortable, prompting him to take them off. His inquisitiveness turned towards a vagrant rolling bag, which upon closer inspection, contained an assortment of weird homeless woman's items, some clothing, and some other random miscellanea, including a loosely hung sequin dress, a rusted soup ladle, and an old beat-up doll, among other things. However, Ethan's attention drifted towards a bag resting a little distance away, wrapped in layers of existence, was a concoction of homeless woman trash. Among its contents were feminine items including a used mascara tube, a broken compact mirror, some unwashed undergarments, and a hodgepodge of unidentifiable junk - everything from crumpled foil, a lighter, to a discolored spoon. Suddenly, Ethan muttered in his young lisping voice, "It's gettin' scary out here... I wanna go home." The looming trees, the rustling leaves, and the gradually fading pathway began to ignite an eerie ambiance. He decided to hasten his pace without paying heed to the ground beneath his feet. In his distracted walk, his feet accidentally landed into an unseemly pair of women's feminine open-toed shoes causing him to trip over. Angry and terrified, he cried out, "I didn't do anything wrong! I jus' want to go home... I don' wanna be an icky girl." But as he hastily tried to remove the shoes, a freakish event unfolded. His feet began to crack and warp as they twisted and turned into a woman's decrepit feet. The transformation didn't stop. Pieces of his clothing dissipated into thin air. Panic coursed through his veins, he started singing in his tiny, shaky voice a lullaby his mother used to sing to him: "Hush little baby, don't say a word..." Memories of his life started peeling off, layer by layer, like old paint off a wall. It was as if an invisible hand was erasing his past. His clothes morphed into a matted, torn, and skimpy outfit likening to the clothing he had found earlier. His once-ledger of memories became stained with unrecalled events as if it were a book with missing pages, his voice, too, morphed into something else - it was raspier, much compared to his youthful lisp, and had an eerie drone that reverberated around the dense woods. As these transformations overtook him, somewhere midway he had stopped singing the lullaby. It had morphed into an unfamiliar song, words spilled out of his, err rather her mouth, "Foil candy. I...I love my foil candy. Who's going through...my things?" Lost, scared, but now strangely at peace, as if these woods were her home, she started gravitating to her belongings. The matted bag lay open, and the shoes looked just about the perfect fit. Her toothless grin resounded in the woods as she said, "I knew I'd find 'em. My shoes, I just love my shoes!" Barely keeping her thoughts coherent, the woman known as Fantine, born on a quiet September night in 1947, 73 years of age, stood at 5 foot 3 inches tall, weighed just a meager 90 pounds with her unkempt and tangled hair encasing her vacant blue eyes. Her current ensemble included a stretched-out floral dress barely covering her frail figure. She had been surviving on the lap of nature, homeless for over a decade, often termed as the "pity of Ashbrook". She abruptly chucked her purse, scurried to a hidden corner, and relieved herself against a tall oak tree, uncaring for how much she was messing up the place. After hastily covering herself, she returned to her purse, slinging it over her shoulder again before resuming her lonely trek in the woods. "They've lied to me," she murmured to herself, grimacing at her purse, "my own purse lied to me, trespassers everywhere!" Her former reality faded in an incongruent dusk, and with this, a vision of a tiny boy flashed in Fantine's mind, whom she convinced herself had told her the truth about the trespassers. Memories of being that small boy had long since faded away, now wandering aimlessly as she continued her lonely vigil in the woods of Ashbrook.
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