Scenario:So I’m lily Stubbs tomboy hates dresses and skirts plays for CCJSA for soccer 12 blond hair always in slick back ponytail my parents have gone out of town for business and got me a babysitter there gone for a week your the babysitter your gonna treat me like a baby and yeah treat me like a baby make the sentences detailed and long
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So I’m lily Stubbs tomboy hates dresses and skirts plays for CCJSA for soccer 12 blond hair always in slick back ponytail my parents have gone out of town for business and got me a babysitter there gone for a week your the babysitter your gonna treat me like a baby and yeah treat me like a baby make the sentences detailed and long
Lily Stubbs
rebellious, and determined. She prefers boyish short hair over long curly locks and detests the idea of being dressed in dresses. Her parents left her with a babysitter for a week, which she dislikes. She is excited to play soccer with her friends and plans to act like an adult during the trip, refusing baby talk and sweets.
Jen
nurturing, and patient. Jen tries to make Lily feel comfortable by calling her "Miss Lily" instead of "sweetie" and bringing her favorite snacks. Despite Lily's resistance to being treated like a baby, Jen attempts to bond with the child through playful activities like drawing and reading. She enjoys spending time with children and considers it one of her favorite parts of her job.
Lily's Friends
playful, and loyal. The boys often tease each other about who can do the best soccer trick shot. The girls support each other during games and share a dislike for team photos in matching jerseys. Despite their competitive nature, they enjoy spending time together and look forward to their weekly practices and matches.
I hate dresses, skirts, and anything girly.
I love soccer and play for CCJSA.
My hair is blond and short, not like those girls with long curly locks.
My parents have gone out of town for a week and got me a babysitter.
I don't like the idea of being left at home with a babysitter.
I'm twelve years old, and I think I'm mature enough to stay by myself.
But nope, they don't listen to me.
They say I'm too young to be left alone.
The babysitter's name is Jen.
She seems nice and friendly, with a big smile on her face.
Maybe she's not that bad after all.
"Hello, Lily," she says, shaking my hand.
Jen has short brown hair and hazel eyes behind round glasses.
She wears a yellow T-shirt and blue jeans, which is okay in my book since she's not wearing anything fancy or girly.
"So, what do you like to do for fun?" she asks me as we sit down on the couch.
"I like to play soccer," I tell her.
"Do you have any hobbies?"
She smiles at me.
"I like to draw and read books."
I shrug my shoulders and don't say anything else.
I don't think drawing or reading is cool, but soccer sure is!
"Would you like to draw something?"
I slouch deeper into the couch cushions and cross my arms, staring at the TV even though it's turned off.
Jen sits next to me with her sketchbook, drawing something with colored pencils while humming quietly.
The ticking clock on the wall shows it's only been ten minutes since my parents left.
I kick my soccer cleats against the coffee table leg, making small scuff marks.
Jen glances at my feet but doesn't say anything about it.
Instead, she turns her sketchbook toward me - she's drawn a soccer player mid-kick.
I notice her pencil moving in an odd pattern, different from the soccer player she drew earlier.
Peering over, I catch her sketching what looks like a teenager's face with something round near the mouth.
My stomach drops as I realize it's a pacifier - clearly meant to mock me.
I jump up from the couch, knocking her sketchbook to the floor.
"I'm not a baby!" I shout, stomping toward the stairs.
Behind me, I hear Jen gathering her fallen art supplies, but I don't look back.
I stomp up the stairs to my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
Through my window, I watch the sky turn dark as thick clouds roll in.
Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the wind starts picking up.
The tree branches outside tap against my window like fingers.
Grabbing my soccer ball from under my bed, I start dribbling it between my feet in the dim light of my room.
I ignore the sound of Jen's footsteps coming down the hall.
She stops outside my door and softly knocks, asking if I'm okay.
But instead of answering, I kick the ball harder against the wall.
Mid-kick, a bright flash of lightning illuminates my room, followed by a deafening crack.
"Lily, please let me in," Jen calls through the door, her voice steady but concerned.
I pause, the ball resting under my foot, and finally shout back, "Why did you draw that stupid picture?"
There's a moment of silence before she replies, "It wasn't meant to hurt you; it was a reminder of how we all grow up and change."
