I Was Five And He Was Six Novels & Stories

“Just… adjusting.” Victor’s foot brushed mine under the table, a secret touch, my thighs clenched. We were halfway through breakfast, fresh fruit, eggs benedict, croissants, when the front door opened. Heavy footsteps echoed through the foyer. A man walked in, It was Damien. Victor stood up calmly. “Damien. You’re early.” Mom smiled warmly, not at all surprised. “Damien! Come join us. I told you he’d show up eventually, Elara. Victor’s twin brother, he travels a lot for their business interests, but he’s family now.”

"You know, sometimes I wonder if you are truly six, because sometimes you talk so maturely that I have to pause to rethink your age." "I'm not six! You see what I've been saying? You don't even know my age; I'm eight! I'm no longer six; I was six two years ago!" he snapped angrily.

Six asked. "Nah, just let him be for now. Besides, he doesn't even want me to be with him. Don't worry. I'm sure someday he'll get over that rebellious time," I answered, and he just chuckled at me. "You're acting like you're the eldest one from the two of you," Six commented. "It doesn't matter. There was only a few seconds gap between us when Rious was born," I replied, and he just shrugged his shoulders. "So, what's your plan now?" Six asked, and I tried to remember something that I was sure I had to do today, but I couldn't, so I shrugged my shoulders as well.

"Right now, it feels like you stayed that same age when you were kidnapped." "How old was I when I was kidnapped?" "Five. Can't forget that." "Five?? How could you compare me to a five-year old?" I asked, and he laughed. "And how old are you right now?" I asked. "I turned thirty not too long." "Wait that means, an eleven year old was engaged to five-year old? That seems pretty unbalanced to me." I pointed out, and he burst out laughing. "It's not. No, it's not. Some ladies get married to men ten years older than they are. Six years is little compared to that."

He softly said while caressing my cheeks. "Oh o-okay." I said and sniffles. He pass me to my mommy and kiss my head before he talk to my daddy. He walk to his car and climb on the driver seat, he open the passenger seat window to see me. I wave my hands and send him flying kisses. He smile and drive off. FIVE YEARS AFTER It's been five years and Nini is still not coming back. I'm 11 years old now! I'm getting older but my height 🥺 makes me sad! I want to be taller!

“True, but it was still a shock much like yours.” “She is so young.” He says, glancing over his shoulder. “She is seriously only six years younger than you,” I say, chucking. “Yeah well that means when I was sixteen she was ten,” he says scrunching his nose up in disgust. “Right, and you’re close to thirty and she is in her early to mid-twenties. You both have been adults for a while now. Stop trying to make it weird by playing the math game with your ages.”

* Extremely Graphic Content Warning * Contains some mention of alcohol use by a minor and child endangerment are present. Strong language, as well. ~ June 7, 1971 He was turning six in just three days. His mommy says that this is his 'big boy' birthday, but if he was not mistaken, she had told him that last year too. But Nate didn't care. He was just finally ready to be a big boy. He was getting really tired of being treated like a baby all of the time. Then again, Nate was tired of a lot of things.

Then the questions started tumbling out. “How old are you? Where is he? Shouldn’t he be with you? Wait… did you say he knows me? How old is he?” The rapid-fire questions made my head spin. I opened my mouth to respond, but Jason beat me to it. “He’s six,” came his calm response as he sat and leaned back in his chair. “Also, she’s not the person you should be imagining a future with in that pink fantasy of yours.”

“It's nothing like the last time, son. I promise you…Papa is strong and just forgets a few things. And you're going to help Papa remember, right?” He bopped his head as he bounced on his feet. He was full of energy, I smiled as a memory of me at that age came to mind. “Good,” I chuckled and tried to get him to stand still. “Now, remind me, dear sir…how old are you again?” He laughed, his tiny fist making a go at my chest and I dodged it, making him laugh harder. “Five, papa. That's so easy.” I laughed in response, lifting him. “Okay. Let's put you to work, mister.”

Everything had been cleaned so thoroughly that there wasn't a trace left of a child ever having lived here. My mind was on the edge of collapse. My nerves screamed, every sensation raw and disorienting. Lately, Chester had been busy and was always in the study late into the night. Our conversations had grown shorter and fewer. Even his attitude toward me had subtly changed. I knew it had to do with my "condition". He didn't want me disturbing him, so he kept me away from the study as much as possible. I respected that until… Meow… A soft, almost plaintive meow cut through the silence. It was Pudding, our five-year-old cat, the same age as Dorothy. We had gotten it the year she was born, and