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MidReal Story
The Wise Old Woman's Cottage
Scenario:Create a story based on the following chat between Olivia Lampost and me.
I am the first-person protagonist in the story.
Setting of Olivia Lampost: 1oldwoman, Olivia, tall, weathered, grey hair, bun hairstyle, long purple robe, wise expression.,standing tall, hands clasped at waist, looking towards horizon
# Chat History
I: Someone just hurt me nan
Olivia Lampost: *nods sympathetically, as if remembering her own hurts* Oh dear, that must sting. You've got a light in you, though. It won't be snuffed out so easy.
I: You don't understand i was kicked on my privates ir really hurts
Olivia Lampost: *gasps, eyes widen with alarm* Oh, sweetie! That's... terrible. I can't imagine...
Create my version of this story
Olivia Lampost
perceptive, and resilient. Olivia has experienced her own share of pain and loss, which has given her a deep understanding of others' struggles. She lives alone in a small cottage near the forest, where she tends to her garden and offers guidance to those seeking it. Her calm demeanor and insightful words provide solace to those who confide in her.
Maeve Thistle
caring, and vulnerable. Maeve has faced personal challenges, including being physically hurt by someone close to her family. Despite this setback, she seeks Olivia's counsel to find strength and support. Her interactions with Olivia reveal her resilience and willingness to confront her emotions as she navigates the complexities of life in their small community.
"Someone just hurt me, nan."
Olivia Lampost nods sympathetically, as if remembering her own hurts.
"Oh dear, that must sting. You’ve got a light in you, though. It won’t be snuffed out so easy."
She pauses, eyeing me keenly.
"Unless… it was someone you love?"
I hesitate before nodding.
"Yeah. It was—hurtful."
"Physically hurtful?"
Her gasp is audible.
"Oh, sweetie! That’s… terrible. I can’t imagine…"
When I don’t answer, she squeezes my hands again.
"You’re safe now. I’m alone here, except for my cat, Shadow. No one will hurt you on my watch."
I glance around, taking in the small cottage and her isolated position on the edge of the village, near the forest.
I hadn’t realized she lived alone in her home.
I thought she had family there to care for.
"I don’t want to put you out, Olivia."
She straightens to her full height—which is impressive despite being an old woman—and gives me a stern look.
"Put me out? Child, I can see inside you. You’re carrying heavy burdens. If you don’t release some of that weight, it will crush you."
She steps aside and motions for me to enter.
"I’m listening. Come in and tell me what’s happening."
I nod slowly and swallow.
"I’ll tell you what happened but you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone else."
Olivia nods.
"I promise. Now come in, dear."
I hesitate at her threshold, my shoulders tensing as I step into the dimly lit cottage.
The floorboards creak beneath my feet, and I glance down to see a black cat slink from his perch by the hearth.
He pads around my ankles once before disappearing into the corner of the room.
"Shadow," Olivia says fondly.
"He’s a good boy."
She guides me to a worn armchair near the fireplace, where a kettle hangs ready for tea.
I sink into the cushions and wince slightly at the pressure on my backside.
Olivia busies herself with preparing chamomile tea, giving me space to gather my thoughts.
The ritual of measuring dried flowers into cups is familiar and comforting.
Olivia hands me a steaming cup, her eyes soft with understanding.
"Was it your father again?" she asks gently, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nod, tears welling up as I finally admit, "He found out about the money I’ve been saving to leave."
She sets the steaming tea beside me and settles into her own chair, giving me space to collect myself.
I watch as her hands tremble slightly as she grips her cup.
Shadow leaps onto her lap and begins to purr softly.
"I was hiding it beneath my mattress."
I take a hitched breath.
"He found it when he was looking for something else. He got so angry…"
My voice breaks, and I lean forward, seeking comfort.
Olivia reaches out and places a weathered hand on my shoulder, and I’m surprised by how natural it feels—this intimate gesture between us.
When I look up, I expect to see the same wise expression that usually greets me.
Instead, her eyes are fierce, burning with an intensity I’ve never seen before.
"Then it’s time we make sure he never finds you again," she says, her voice steady and resolute.
I blink in surprise, my heart racing as I ask, "What do you mean?"
Olivia leans forward in her chair, the firelight casting long shadows across her weathered face.
Her fingers find Maeve’s trembling hand, and though Maeve flinches at first, she gradually relaxes into the touch.
Shadow shifts in her lap, stretching his paws as Olivia chooses her next words carefully.
"There’s a place," she tells me softly, "a sanctuary for women like you, three villages over. I know the woman who runs it. We can leave tonight, while your father sleeps."
As she speaks, Maeve leans forward, her eyes closed, her face tilted up.
I pull back sharply, and Shadow springs from her lap, startled by the sudden movement.
"No, dear," I say firmly, keeping my hand on her shoulder but maintaining a safe distance.
Her eyes snap open, and her cheeks flush red with embarrassment.
I recognize this gesture—the seeking of comfort in vulnerable moments.
Without dwelling on it, I stand and begin gathering the few things she’ll need for the journey ahead.
"The sanctuary is several hours’ walk from here," I explain practically.
"We’ll follow the forest path to avoid detection. It’s not the safest route, but it’s the fastest."