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MidReal Story
The Boys of Jackson Harbor
Scenario:olivia une jeune mere de famille voyer ses enfant grandir elle va rencpntrer nick un jeune homme et le faire devenir un enfant de 2 ans
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Olivia
She is a young mother with a curious and caring nature. She is nurturing, determined, and a bit anxious. Olivia struggles with the challenges of raising her children alone but finds joy in the company of her sons. She is drawn to Nick, the son of her landlord, and grapples with her feelings for him. As she navigates life, she focuses on providing stability for her children and hopes for a brighter future.
Nick
He is the son of Olivia's landlord, Nick Sr. He is a charming, laidback, and slightly irresponsible young man. Nick shares an unexpected bond with Olivia's sons through playdates arranged by their fathers. He has a good heart but often gets into trouble by leaving his bike at Olivia's house. His relationship with Olivia evolves from friendship to something more as they spend time together and explore their feelings for each other under the guise of coparenting their son.
My oldest son is growing up.
He’s not a baby anymore, but a toddler who’s learning new things every day.
I watch him play with his brother, and my heart swells with pride.
I love my little boys more than anything in the world.
They’re my everything, and I’d do anything for them.
I wish their father could see them now, but he’s not a part of our lives.
I don’t even know if he knows he has two sons.
I don’t think he cares.
I push the thought aside and focus on my children.
They bring me so much joy, and I’m grateful to be their mother.
"Mommy," my oldest son says, looking up at me with a smile.
"I want Nick to come over. Can he come over?"
My heart skips a beat when I hear Nick’s name.
It’s easy to get confused when people talk about Nick and Nick, but I know my son is talking about Nick, the son of our landlord.
We’ve arranged a few playdates between Nick and our boys, and they seem to get along just fine.
Nick is a nice guy, and I’m glad my landlord, Mr. Nichols, has such a responsible son.
"Well," I say slowly, "I’ll call your dad and ask him."
I reach for my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find Mr. Nichols’ number.
My fingers hover over the screen as I consider what to say.
Nick has been coming over more frequently lately, and his bike is often parked in our driveway.
The boys love playing with him, especially my oldest, who follows him around like a shadow.
I press call and wait for someone to answer.
My sons continue to play on the living room floor, stacking blocks and making a mess.
I watch them as I wait for Mr. Nichols to pick up the phone.
He answers on the third ring, his gruff voice familiar.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mr. Nichols," I say, trying to sound friendly.
"It’s me, your tenant."
"Oh, hi there," he says, sounding slightly more cheerful.
"How are you doing?"
"I’m good, thanks," I reply.
"I was wondering if Nick could come over tomorrow afternoon. The boys have been asking for him."
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Mr. Nichols speaks again.
"Well, I don’t know," he says hesitantly.
"Nick has been busy with school lately. But I’ll ask him and see what he says." "That would be great," I say gratefully.
"Thank you so much."
"You’re welcome," Mr. Nichols replies.
"I’ll talk to Nick and let you know tomorrow morning."
We exchange a few more pleasantries before hanging up the phone.
I turn back to my sons, who are still playing on the floor.
"Nick is coming over tomorrow afternoon," I tell them excitedly.
My oldest son jumps up and down with excitement while my youngest son looks at me curiously.
"Nick?" he asks, his voice filled with confusion.
"Yes, Nick," I reply patiently.
"He’s your friend from next door."
My youngest son nods slowly as if he understands what I’m saying.
After I hang up the phone with Mr. Nichols, I spend the morning tidying up the living room.
I put away the boys’ toys and vacuum the floor.
I also make sure to dust all of the surfaces and clean any dirty dishes.
When I’m finished, I take a step back and admire my handiwork.
The living room looks much better now, and I feel proud of myself for getting it done so quickly.
The next day, Nick arrives promptly at 2 p.m.
I open the door to find him standing on the porch with a smile on his face.
"Hi," he says, looking at me with his usual confidence.
"How are you?"
"I’m good," I reply, trying to sound friendly.
"Come on in."
Nick follows me inside and looks around the living room.
His smile falters slightly when he sees that I’ve made some changes since his last visit.
I’ve hung new curtains on the windows and rearranged the furniture to make more space for the boys to play.
"It looks different in here," Nick says, looking around curiously.
"Yeah," I reply sheepishly.
"I decided to make some changes."
"It’s nice," Nick says politely.
"I like it."
"Thanks," I say gratefully.
"The boys are upstairs napping right now. Do you want to wait here for them to wake up?"
"Sure," Nick replies, taking a seat on the couch.
I sit down next to him and try to think of something to say. "So, how have you been?"
I ask finally, feeling awkward in the silence.
"I’ve been good," Nick replies, looking at me with his usual confidence.
"Just busy with school and stuff."
"Yeah," I say sympathetically.
"I know how that is."
We sit there in silence for a few minutes before Nick speaks again.
"So, do you want to show me around your house?" he asks curiously.
"I’ve never really seen it before."
"Oh, yeah," I reply nervously.
"Sure. Let me just check on the boys first."
I get up from the couch and head upstairs to check on my sons.
They’re both still fast asleep, so I quietly close their bedroom door and head back downstairs.
Nick is still sitting on the couch when I return, but he gets up as soon as he sees me approaching. "Okay," I say nervously, trying to think of what to say next.
"Well, this is obviously the living room."
"Yeah," Nick replies, looking around curiously.
Nick nods, glancing around before his eyes settle on a framed photo on the mantel.
"Is that their dad?" he asks, pointing to the picture.
I hesitate for a moment, then nod slowly. "Yeah, that's him," I say softly.
"Yes," I reply, feeling a little tense.
"We’re not together anymore."
"Oh," Nick says, looking at me curiously.
"What happened?"
"It’s a long story," I reply, not wanting to get into it.
"Let’s just say that we didn’t work out."
"Okay," Nick says, nodding slowly.
"I’m sorry to hear that."
I shrug, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me.
"It’s not a big deal," I say.
"Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you the rest of the house."
Nick follows me up the stairs and looks around curiously as we walk down the hall.
I can tell that he’s trying to take in every detail, and it makes me feel a little nervous.
As we walk, I notice that one of the doors is closed.
I frown slightly, wondering why it’s shut when I know that I left it open. "What’s this?" asks Nick, stopping in front of the door.
"I don’t know," I reply, feeling confused.
"I could have sworn that I left this door open."
"Well, let’s check it out," Nick says, reaching for the handle before I can stop him.
I watch nervously as he turns the knob and pushes the door open.
The room is dimly lit, but as soon as we step inside, the afternoon sunlight streams through the window and illuminates everything.
I look around curiously, trying to figure out what this room is for.
The walls are painted a pale blue color, and there’s a white crib in the corner with a mobile of stars and moons hanging above it.
There’s also a changing table stocked with diapers and baby supplies. "This must be Nick’s room," says Nick, running his fingers over the mobile above the crib.
"It looks like someone has been preparing for him."
I nod slowly, feeling a little confused.
I didn’t even know that Mr. Nichols had a son named Nick until recently.
And now here we are standing in his room like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. "Look at all of this stuff," says Nick excitedly, pointing to a collection of toddler clothes and pacifiers arranged neatly on open shelves.
"Somebody really wants me here."
I smile nervously at Nick before turning my attention back to the room.
It does look like someone has been preparing for him, but who?
And why?
Standing in the nursery, my heart races as Nick moves closer to inspect the tiny clothes.
Something pulls me toward him, maybe maternal instinct or maybe something else entirely.
When he stumbles slightly, I catch him by reflex, my arms wrapping around his shoulders.
The moment my skin touches his, a warm tingling sensation spreads between us.
Nick's body begins to shrink in my embrace, his adult clothes becoming loose and baggy.
His face softens, cheeks becoming rounder while his height diminishes until I'm holding a confused two-year-old boy.
He looks up at me with wide, frightened eyes, his adult mind clearly trapped in this toddler body.
Still holding the trembling toddler Nick, I move carefully toward the white crib.
His adult clothes hang loosely around his tiny frame as he clutches my shirt with chubby fingers.
He tries to speak, but only babbled sounds come out, causing his eyes to widen further in alarm.
I peel away his oversized t-shirt and jeans, leaving him in just the adult underwear that's now comically large.
Finding a clean diaper and onesie in the dresser, I dress him properly while speaking in a calm, quiet voice.
Though his mind seems aware, his body responds with typical toddler movements - uncoordinated and wobbly.
I carry him downstairs, his small body trembling against my chest as he continues making distressed baby sounds.
I sit on the couch, cradling him in my arms.
His tiny hands grip my shirt tightly as he whimpers, his adult eyes filled with confusion and fear.
I speak softly, trying to soothe him, but his distress only intensifies.
I get up and fetch a bottle from the kitchen, warming it in the microwave before returning to the couch.
I offer it to him, and after a moment's hesitation, he begins to drink.
As he feeds, his small body relaxes slightly against me.
The sound of footsteps upstairs signals that my sons are waking up.
They join us in the living room, curious about the new baby.
They touch Nick gently and ask questions as I explain that he's staying with us now.
"Why is he staying with us, Mom?" asks Jake, looking at Nick with wide eyes.
"It's complicated, sweetheart," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let's just say he's a special friend who needs our help right now."
"But how did he get so small?" wonders Sam, his brow furrowed in confusion.
I settle Nick on the playroom floor, surrounding him with soft blocks and stuffed animals.
Though his adult mind clearly struggles with his toddler body, his transformed physiology seems to be taking over as he tentatively reaches for a red block.
Jake and Sam approach cautiously, then sit down beside him.
Jake demonstrates stacking blocks while Sam offers Nick his favorite teddy bear.
Nick's small hands fumble with the toys at first, but soon he's absorbed in play, giggling as Jake makes silly faces.
When Sam knocks over their block tower, Nick's surprised squeal sounds genuinely childlike.
I watch Nick crawl determinedly across the living room floor toward the kitchen, where I'm preparing lunch.
I'm in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the boys, when I feel a small tug on my leg.
I glance down to see toddler Nick crawling towards me, his big, confused eyes looking up at me.
"Pee-pee," he says in a small voice.
I quickly scoop him up and rush to the bathroom, feeling his small body tense in my arms.
I sit him on the potty seat and wait for him to do his business.
He fidgets and whimpers, clearly uncomfortable with his new situation.
My sons stand in the doorway, watching with curious expressions but remaining quiet.
When he's done, I clean him up and dress him in fresh clothes.
While my sons play with their toy cars, toddler Nick sits alone by the window, his small shoulders slumped.
He watches the afternoon light fade, occasionally glancing at his reflection in the glass.
His lower lip trembles as he touches the window with tiny fingers.
When he turns to look at me, his eyes well up with tears - a mix of adult awareness and toddler emotions.
He pushes himself up on unsteady legs and toddles towards me with arms outstretched, making soft whimpering sounds.
"Mom," Jake whispers, breaking the silence, "is he ever going to be big again?"
I kneel down to Nick's level, gently wiping away his tears.
"We're working on it, Jake," I say softly, meeting Nick's eyes with a promise.
I sit cross-legged on the living room carpet, cradling Nick's transformed toddler body against my chest while he continues to sniffle.
His small hands clutch my shirt desperately, his body trembling with each hitched breath.
Jake and Sam approach us cautiously, their favorite red and blue toy cars extended in offering.
Nick's head turns slightly at their movement, his tear-streaked face peeking out from where it's pressed against my shoulder.
Sam gently places his blue car next to Nick's foot, while Jake demonstrates rolling the red one back and forth.
Nick watches the cars with wide eyes, then looks up at me, a question forming on his lips.
"Will I... remember?" he asks in a voice that wavers between child and adult.
I nod, my heart aching, "Yes, Nick, you will remember everything when you're back to yourself."
He nods, seeming to understand, and his gaze drifts back to the toy cars.
Jake and Sam continue playing nearby, completely absorbed in their own world.
I glance down at Nick, noticing his tiny hands pressing against his lower belly.
His adult mind clearly understands what's happening, but his toddler body can't control itself like before.
I see Jake and Sam pause their play, looking at me with concerned expressions.
"Mom," Jake says softly, "Nick needs to go."
I quickly scoop Nick up and rush towards the bathroom.
His small body tenses against me as he starts bouncing from foot to foot anxiously.
I guide his small body onto the plastic potty seat, steadying him with both hands as he wobbles.
His toddler legs dangle in the air while his adult eyes show embarrassment and frustration.
As he starts to slip, I hold him firmly, speaking softly about how we'll get through this together.
Jake peeks around the doorframe, concern etched on his face, while Sam stands behind him clutching his teddy bear tightly.
Nick's tiny fingers grip the toilet seat edges as he tries to maintain a semblance of dignity despite his transformed state.
After helping Nick in the bathroom, I carry him back to the living room and settle him on my lap in the rocking chair.
His small body trembles with each step, clearly mortified by his lack of control.
I settle him on my lap, his head resting against my shoulder as tears streak his round cheeks.
When I start patting his back in a steady rhythm, his rigid muscles gradually relax.
Jake brings over Nick's favorite toy car while Sam offers his blanket.
Nick's tiny fingers clutch the soft fabric as I promise we'll work on mastering his new body's limitations together.
Nick's voice is small but determined, "How long will I be like this?"
I hesitate, then answer honestly, "We're not sure yet, but Dr. Evans is working hard to find a solution."
Sam pipes up, his eyes wide with curiosity, "Will he still be our big brother when he's back?"
I notice Nick's thumb drifting toward his mouth, a habit he's never had before.
His adult mind fights it at first, but his toddler body craves the comfort.
Jake shows him a picture book, and Nick's resistance weakens.
His tiny thumb slips between his lips as he leans against me on the couch, eyes heavy.
Sam points and giggles, making Nick try to pull his thumb away, but his toddler instincts win out.
He returns to sucking, cheeks flushed with embarrassment while his small body curls closer to mine.
I notice his responses becoming simpler as we play with blocks.
When Jake asks about his favorite video game, Nick just babbles and claps his hands.
His adult expressions fade, replaced by pure toddler reactions.
He no longer fights the urge to put toys in his mouth or crawl instead of walk.
During snack time, he messily feeds himself crackers with uncoordinated fingers, giggling at the crumbs without his usual self-consciousness.
When I ask if he remembers his school friends, he only points at my sons and says "pway" in a high-pitched voice.
I hold him close, realizing that for now, Nick is truly one of them.
I notice Nick's toddler eyes fixating on something strange.
A soft glow emanates from Sam's chest, visible only to Nick.
His tiny hand reaches out, trembling with an unnatural purpose that seems beyond his current form.
Before I can react, Nick's fingers brush against Sam's shirt, and a wispy blue light transfers from Sam into Nick's small body.
Sam slumps forward, suddenly quiet and listless, while Nick's eyes shine with an eerie brightness.
My heart races as I realize what just happened - Nick has somehow taken something vital from my son.
I guide my exhausted sons toward the bathroom, Sam still weak from whatever strange energy Nick drained from him.
Jake and Sam move slowly, while Nick toddles after us on unsteady legs.
I fill the tub with warm water and bubbles, then help Jake undress before turning to Sam.
His eyes are half-closed, and his small body sways as I remove his shirt.
The faint blue glow is still visible on his chest, but it's fading fast.
Nick reaches for Sam again, but I quickly lift him away, holding him tight as I undress him too.
I place Jake and Sam in the tub, then sit on the edge with Nick in my lap.
He clutches a rubber duck tightly in his small hands as I wash my older sons' hair.
Sam barely splashes or plays in the water like he usually does; instead, he stares at the bubbles with a distant expression.
"What's happening to Sam?" Jake asks, his voice trembling with worry.
"I don't know," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady, "but we need to figure it out before it's too late."
Nick looks up at me, his eyes still glowing faintly, and whispers, "I didn't mean to."
I sit on the couch with Sam, keeping a close eye on him as he slowly recovers from whatever Nick took from him.
Jake plays with his cars on the floor nearby, while Nick crawls around, babbling excitedly.
I notice that Sam's face looks a little rounder than usual, and his movements seem less coordinated than they were before.
When he tries to grab his sippy cup, I see that his hands are smaller and chubbier than they should be.
Nick toddles over and points at Sam, saying "ba-ba" in a high-pitched voice.
I pull Sam closer to me protectively, watching as his clothes start to fit him looser than before.
He tries to say something, but his words come out slurred and babyish.
When he tries to climb down from the couch, he stumbles like a much younger child would.
Jake looks up from his cars, eyes wide with realization.
"Mom, is Sam turning into a baby like Nick?" he asks, voice filled with a mix of fear and curiosity.
I nod slowly, my heart heavy with the truth. "It seems like whatever happened to Nick is happening to Sam now."
I hold Sam's tiny hand as he toddles unsteadily across the living room floor.
His transformation to toddler is complete now.
His chubby little legs wobble with each step, and his oversized clothes slip off one shoulder.
When he stumbles, I catch him before he falls, pulling him into my lap.
Nick plays with blocks nearby, while Jake watches his transformed brother with wide eyes.
Sam's big round eyes meet mine, filled with innocent trust rather than his usual mischief.
My heart swells as I stroke his soft curls, marveling at how perfectly he fits in my arms now.