I Was Five And He Was Six Novels & Stories

Since I moved here 2 years ago, I was 16 and my parents would always be at work. So as they are at work I stay at my neighbors house. He 56 years old with light chocolate skin. He is tall about 6'2 muscular built, very handsome. I help take care of his house and errands.

I started, looking over at Lucas as I spoke. “That's not even the big question here, to be honest. It says here that the boys were born on the 16th of April six years ago, and we are currently in the month of September. Meaning that their exact age is six, nothing less and nothing more as of right now. If you look at things closely, the months don't add up.” “What do you mean?” I was already getting confused by what Lucas was saying at this point.

Eliot says with a giggle making me chuckle too. "I'm twenty-five," I tell him making him gasp, I'm older than him. "How old is little you?" he asks me next. "Little me is around the five-year mark," I explain to him, maybe if we both go little, one of my brothers can babysit us as we play. "We're gonna have fun playing!" he says clapping his hands.

GIAN "Sissy, Yan! Yan! I groaned and covered my ears with a pillow. It's only six in the morning, but Sander is already knocking at the door. "Mommy and Daddy are still sleeping. Everyone is still sleeping. Let's go to the park ourselves and Lily. Come on, uncle. " I heard our six-year-old daughter whine. "I told you to stop calling me uncle. I'm only five years older than you. " Sander said, and I could hear the annoyance in his voice.

He said it angrily, and I forced myself not to smile. Seeing him this upset made me realize he wasn’t angry that I had kept this from him anymore. “How old was he?” he asked. I racked my brain quietly, trying to remember what he was like back then. I couldn’t recall his exact age, but from the picture I had seen and the few times I encountered him, I could tell he was over fifty. “He was over fifty back then,” I answered. We stared at each other. In other words, he would be in his sixties now.

“I’m sure.” Scratching the back of my neck, I say, “See ya, kiddo.” I’m not sure what to make of that. He’s five and fifteen at the same time. Damn, the teen years are going to be lonely if he’s already over spending time with his dear old dad.

As though he’s sent a bolt of electricity through it, ‘you? ‘Twenty six,’ I’m looking down, tearing as strip of sweet sticky goodness from the pancake as he stares at him. ‘Shit…so five years ago-’ ‘I was twenty one, and you were twenty six,’ I shrug and glance at him, ‘it’s not a big deal.’ ‘You’re younger than I expected,’ he admits. I lift an eyebrow, ‘I’ll try not to take that as an insult?’

He came to our house and played house with us. At that time I was only eight years old and he was about fourteen years old, five years and a few months older than I was. Yet, I had the biggest crush on him. He never noticed me anyway. We were just friends and I think he liked Lena more since she was older. Isaac was always bothered about my age.

If I was confused a few seconds ago, then can I say I'm dead now? The five-year- old or six walks past me rubbing his eyes walking towards her mother.

But I knew one thing for sure—as long as I had my child, I would be just fine. *** I first met Luka when I was five years old. He was seven, taller than me, quieter than me. Our fathers were business partners, and our mothers—well, at least back then—still had enough warmth in them to arrange weekend barbecues and family holidays. We spent summers together, winters too. He was always around. Always there.