Dear Diary,

I need to write this down now. I guess it's an odd one out, I don't even know what date to put in the corner, because it's not like the usual routine of sitting down at the end of the day. To be honest, it's more like I need somebody to talk to now, and there's nobody else. So I'm just writing this all down in the hope that putting it into words will help me get it straight in my head. And then, just maybe, I'll understand a little better how I feel about it, and what I need to be doing or thinking. Right now, everything just seems too crazy.

I blinked my eyes open, lifting my head from my desk. I must have dozed off or something, because I didn't really remember what I'd been doing before. There was something important happening, I was sure, but when I reached for my memories of last night – or whatever time it was – all I got was a blur. Had I been drinking? Had I eaten something that disagreed with me? Neither seemed likely. It was probably just tiredness, and the early-morning brain fog that I woke up with on some days.

I slid off my seat and stumbled chaotically towards the door. I didn't really know, but some instinct told me that if I could reach the bathroom, I could splash cold water on my face and that might make me feel a little more alive. Or more with it, anyway. But even getting that far was a challenge. My foot caught the edge of the rug, and I tumbled face first to the floor. I yelped without thinking, calling for help so quickly that I hadn't even assessed how I actually felt. And then I felt a little bit embarrassed, as I realised that it barely hurt, except my knees were a little bit sore from their sudden skid across the carpet.

I sat up and rubbed them a bit, wondering if that would make them feel better. It didn't help much after all. I'd bounced towards the desk, though, and by grabbing the edge I could pull myself up until I was standing again. With one hand grabbing a chair leg and the other reaching up to the tabletop, I took a few more unsteady steps towards the door. I didn't really know where I was going now, but I was sure that I had to keep on moving so that I would get somewhere. It was just that my feet weren't moving where I wanted them to, and something was surely wrong. Why did everything feel so... off?

I looked down at my legs, and then I had a little more idea. But it made no sense to me at all. My knees were bowed outwards, my feet not quite landing where I wanted them to be. And when I put my weight on my desk, my arms were stretching upwards. I was shorter than I was supposed to be, with pudgy little toes. That didn't make any kind of sense; this shouldn't be happening to me. Something must have happened; something had gone wrong with the Treatment™, perhaps, so the effects were spreading. But that didn't make sense either.

Pushing away from the bed and grabbing my desk as I passed it, I managed to keep myself upright long enough to reach the door. Then I did my best to grasp the handle and tugged on it. It rattled, almost taunting me for my lack of coordination, but I couldn't twist it enough to make the door open. I felt so frustrated, I wanted to sit down and cry. But I had to keep on trying, shaking the handle back and forth so that the door moved a fraction of an inch and banged against its frame. And then, the answer to my prayers, the door opened.

I was overjoyed to see Ben and Rosie standing there, concern etched on both their faces. I wasn't alone here, I could depend on them to make everything alright again. And as soon as I saw Ben's smile, I felt so relieved that nothing else seemed to matter. If he was pleased with me, that was the important thing.

"Aww, sweetie," he said. "Is something wrong? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I'm a..." I started, but I couldn't find the words. I knew something was wrong, I knew I was scared, but it was such a strange situation that I didn't know how to explain it. I tried gesturing down at the floor, and how close it was. I waved my hands, hoping that he could see the pudgy fingers that didn't look anything like mine. He must be able to see that I was different; and even if I didn't say anything, surely Ben would be able to work out what was wrong. I tried not to be scared; I'd already been planning to reassure Daniel when he had to go through this, and I told myself that even if it wasn't supposed to happen to me, it shouldn't be any worse. And surely the scientists could make it better.

My train of thought was derailed before I could work out what to say, or how to remind Ben and Rosie that they should call the doctors right away. I realised that the most important thing right now was going to the bathroom, quickly. The urge came on so suddenly, and I turned and tried to run. But I stumbled and fell right away, my clumsy legs letting me down. And I wasn't used to a toddler-sized bladder. As soon as my bum hit the carpet, I felt a spurt of pee escape. And then I was sitting in a puddle, feeling so helpless, just like a real baby.

"Ohh, Laura!" Rosie cooed, taking a step towards me. "Are you okay?"

"Did you have a little accident?" Ben added. "It's okay, sweetie. Let's just get you changed."

"No!" I protested. "I can do it myself, I need to..." I needed to get them to understand. I could get myself cleaned up, but one of them needed to call the doctors so they could check me out and work out what was wrong. They were just treating me like all this is normal, and I didn't like that. But despite my protests, Rosie leaned in and picked me up, cradling me in her arms like a little baby. There was nothing I could do, I was so weak now. And for all my trust, I was terrified that they might somehow decide to keep me like this or something. They would never do that, would they? I didn't want to believe it, but the way Rosie smiled as she rocked me in her arms, and Ben standing there with his arm around her shoulders supportively, I was suddenly terrified that I had no control over what happened to me now.

"Noooo!" I yelled, hoping that by sheer volume I could show them how serious I was. But Rosie just carried me over to the changing table and started to unfasten my diaper, not taking any notice at all of any protest I could make.

Panic welled up inside me. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to scream again, and then...

"Ahhh!" I yelled, the sudden movement jerking me awake and almost catapulting me out of my chair. I was disoriented for a moment, trying to put two and two together and somehow getting ten. My heart was pounding, my short-term memory filled with an impossible sequence of recollections. I could smell something like an exotic spice market coming from outside my room, which was somehow reassuring and familiar. Then I stared down at the papers in front of me, filled with a cryptic set of runes which slowly resolved themselves into my trigonometry homework.

"You okay, Laura?" Ben's voice called from the hallway, and I shouted back reassurances as I managed to untangle the thread of my story. It had all felt so real, but now I could only assume that it was a dream. Ben had asked to help Daniel with making dinner after his nap, so they could get to know each other a little better in anticipation of future babysitting. And I'd had homework to do, so I'd retired to my room for a few minutes. I must have nodded off. And I knew right away that I needed to record the strange dream before it faded from my memory.

I'd had weird dreams before. Fears like getting to school and realising I'd forgotten to bring my hair; or crazy things like vampire carrots that always seemed so real i the moment. But something told me this one was different. It wasn't that it seemed real, because dreams always did, when I was in them. But I could tell that there had been something prompting this one, beyond the simple oddity of the day I'd just had.

Somehow I felt right away that I needed to talk to someone about this. To get on top of whatever my subconscious was trying to tell me. And writing in my diary was the most obvious way to do that. So I started writing these words down, desperate to finish the story before it was gone from my mind. And now, well, I don't know what I should be thinking next.

There was just a moment when I was somehow jealous. Ben and Rosie had seemed like a couple in that dream, and I didn't know where that had come from. Was that my way of telling myself that they were natural together, that they could be like family, and so there was no reason for me to worry about spending time with Ben? Maybe I would have been nervous about inviting my boyfriend around – if I could even think of him like that, I still wasn't sure if this had been a date – but this was my way of telling myself that spending time with Ben wouldn't be unfair on Rosie? Or it could have been that I was jealous. I didn't know how to deal with that at all.

That was a weird thing, too. Rosie had been an adult in the dream. And for that matter, Ben had too. Like, not a teen on the edge of adulthood, but an actual grown up. They'd both seemed closer to Daniel's age, the way I thought about them, and as long as the dream lasted I hadn't even realised there was anything weird about that. I don't know how I'm supposed to process that, or what it might mean. Does it have to mean anything? Maybe it's just that I know on some level Rosie is still Daniel, so I'm eager to keep on trusting her as an adult even if she doesn't act it. And Ben seems so responsible, he might as well be as mature as my brother.

Maybe I'm jealous. The way they were in that dream, it was like they'd been standing in for my parents. And that's just weird. Is that because I still miss my parents? Of course I did, but that didn't show up in every little dream or anxiety. Maybe this is different. Maybe this is something I'll have to show Dr Lennox at my next therapy session. Hi doc, if you're reading this. Do you think there's a part of me that might be jealous of the immediate rapport between Rosie and Ben? It's almost like I didn't have a clue what to do once things started going off track, and if Ben hadn't been there the day would have been a disaster. Maybe that's what the dream meant. That I was the only one out of the three who isn't able to take charge and make the right choices on my own. I'm the immature one so I should be the baby.

Or I'm just navel gazing, like those twentieth century grunge bands that Emily loves so much. I should stop thinking about it and just accept that I had a weird day, I was tired, and then I had a weird dream. That makes more sense, doesn't it?

I need to learn to be more responsible, though. More mature. Because Rosie needs me now, and after Daniel's done so much for me, I can't afford to let him down again. On the simplest level, that was what the dream could be meant to tell me. But in a way that seemed a little too easy. I really don't know what this all means, but I'm sure there's something in there. That's wy I had to write it down right away. Maybe if I look at it again later, I'll understand it better. For now, I should probably get back to my homework – for real this time.

Thank you diary. And I'll write again tonight if anything else happens.