The next morning, Daniel awoke in Emily's body to sunlight streaming through the curtains, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling above. Reality crashed back as the events of last night settled in—he - no, she - was in Emily’s body now.

He lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the house, the weight of his new body pressing against the bed. This was real, no matter how strange. He clenched the sheets for a second, let them go, twiddled his toes, and then pinched himself, just to see if any of this was actually a dream.

It didn’t seem like a dream.

With a deep breath, she swung her legs out of bed and awkwardly padded across the room to the mirror, marveling at the unfamiliar mechanics of this new form. Her hands were smaller, softer, and the reflection staring back—a young girl—was still surreal. It was like inhabiting a doll’s body. She ran a hand through her hair, still amazed at its silky texture and admiring how it fell in unruly waves.

There was something oddly comforting about this, a feeling that wasn’t Daniel’s, as though the body itself recognized these small movements.

She lifted each hand individually, pseudo-waving at herself. Daniel’s analytical mind couldn’t help but note how much stronger and larger his old hands had been. There was a distinct vulnerability, a fragility to these child-sized fingers. He poked her new nose, cheeks, and marveled at how smooth Emily's skin was. This body, clearly around nine or ten years old, was the stark opposite of his original, mid-twenties body with prematurely graying hair and weathered with stress.

Downstairs, the house was stirring to life. She hesitated at the top of the stairs in her ‘new’ body, uncertainty gripping her—who were these people downstairs? What was their relationship? She descended slowly, each step eliciting a pang of fear in her heart. In the kitchen, the smell of pancakes wafted through the air, an oddly comforting aroma that was unfamiliar from Daniel’s life, which was, in a word, rushed.

A woman was at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. This must be Sarah, Emily thought, possibly her mother? She certainly appeared to have similar hair as Emily, was perhaps in her late thirties or early forties, with a distinctly maternal air about her. She turned as Emily entered, her smile warm. "Good morning, Emily!" she greeted, her voice gentle. "Did you sleep well?"

The name "Emily" hung in the air, familiar yet distant. The Daniel within Emily felt the strangeness of it, but somewhere within, a quiet acceptance seemed to answer before he did. Yet there was a draw towards this woman, a sense of reassurance she couldn’t quite explain.

Emily nodded, unsure how to respond—unsure of whether she should respond as herself or as Daniel. "So this body's name...my name...is in fact…Emily," she thought, but the dissonance of having been Daniel hours ago still lingered, muddied her understanding.

She sat down at the kitchen table, mimicking Sarah's movements—as if trying to pretend she belonged here even though she felt like nothing more than an imposter at that moment—and poured herself a glass of orange juice from a pitcher. Her hands fumbled slightly with the unfamiliar weight and size of the glass, yet she quickly corrected herself.

The small adjustment, interestingly, felt like second nature, as if the body had performed these simple tasks countless times. “Why do I feel like I have been here before…” Emily thought to herself as she moved unconsciously through the motions of living.

A lanky, lightly bearded man casually walked in from behind, scratching his dirty blonde hair with one hand. "Morning, kiddo," he said with a wide grin, unaware of the turmoil brewing beneath Emily's seemingly composed exterior. With a twinkle in his eyes, he stopped and ruffled Emily's hair affectionately before sitting down with a sigh.

“This must be Thomas, my…dad?” Emily quietly thought as she recoiled ever so slightly from the unexpected touch. Daniel was unaccustomed to physical affection, and while Emily’s first instinct was to swat Thomas’s hand, she decided not to provoke any reaction.

Yet - there was something gentle in the affection that struck a chord deeper than Daniel's usual discomfort, something deep within her new body, a sensation she craved?

Breakfast was a quiet affair. In a daze, Emily nibbled on her pancakes, her mind racing with questions she couldn't voice—although she did find room to appreciate the chocolatey overtones in the pancakes. Apparently, she retained Daniel’s affinity for chocolate.

Sarah and Thomas exchanged knowing glances, sensing Emily's unease, wondering why she hadn’t said anything at all—but choosing not to press her for answers.

Emily finally mustered up the courage to speak, muttering, "Thanks for the food…"

Her eyes widening as she realized these were her first words in this universe. Stunned at the softness and pitch of her own voice after years of Daniel’s deep male voice, Emily made a quick and quiet retreat to what appeared to be the living room to gather her thoughts.

"A B C D, Alpha Beta Delta Gamma, The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," she enunciated softly so no one could hear her, attempting to familiarize herself with her new voice. It wasn’t hers, but it was hers now, in this bizarre way.

She wandered the house, testing words, names, and sentences until the sound of it started to feel less foreign. Each time she spoke, the voice felt less Daniel and more Emily—a quiet surrender that unnerved and yet in some way grounded her.

"Emily...my name is Emily...Em-il-ee. Not Daniel. You are Emily," she mumbled to herself, acknowledging her apparent name with some discomfort. "This is unbelievable…" she sighed deeply.

As the day passed, Emily explored the house, discovering more remnants of the life she now occupied. She picked up picture books, children's toys—things that were so unlike the life Daniel had lived. As she flipped through a family photo album absentmindedly, she tried to make sense of her situation. How had she ended up here? Was there any way to reverse this strange twist of fate?

Yet, as she gazed at the images in the photo album - images she did not remember - she distinctly felt a flicker of recognition in her chest. There was a sense that some part of her, perhaps something in her subconscious, did in fact recognize these images and memories buried deep within her.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Gaining no further insight, Emily ventured into her room again, marveling at the collection of toys and books that lined the shelves. She tried on different outfits from Emily's wardrobe, struggling to fasten buttons and tie shoelaces with child-sized fingers. Apparently, girls' clothing was significantly more complex than male clothing—Emily realized that at least this aspect of Daniel’s life was superior. Skirts were especially awkward for someone who had been used to jeans their entire life.

Outside, neighborhood kids played on the street, their laughter echoing through the window. Emily paused her exploration and watched them with a mix of longing and trepidation, wondering if and how she would fit into this new world. Would others accept her as one of their own, or would she forever remain an outsider—a stranger in her own body?

Feeling a bit unkempt, she chose a change of clothes at random and proceeded to locate a bathroom with child-sized toiletries. Grabbing a seemingly small toothbrush, Emily considered the dimensions for a moment—this was certainly too small to be an effective cleaning tool! This led to the subsequent realization that her jaw, indeed her entire frame, was a fraction of Daniel’s dimensions. Commencing brushing her teeth, Emily slowly adjusted to her new jaw and dental structure, appreciating the evenness of her teeth. Daniel had crooked teeth, which suffice it to say rendered him more self-conscious than he already felt each day. After a warm shower (enjoyable in any universe), Emily explored her room and immediate surroundings until evening.

While Emily was lost in thought, Sarah called from the kitchen, "Emily, could you help me with something, sweetie?"

“Sweetie? What in the actual…” Emily mumbled to herself with some hesitation. The word “sweetie” had not been something Daniel was ever called, and the strangeness of it felt uncomfortable yet familiar—but she couldn’t let it show.

"Sure," Emily replied, trying her best to sound casual, though the endearment had left her feeling oddly exposed.

As she walked into the kitchen, Sarah handed her a basket of laundry. "Great—can you help me fold these clothes?"

"Okay," Emily said, sitting down at the table and starting to fold the small clothes that were evidently hers with mild unease. It was a simple task, something she could manage, but it felt like an admission of sorts, acknowledging her new reality. “I hope I’m folding this the right way…” she thought to herself mimicking Sarah’s movements. “I used to just throw my clothes into the closet…before..”

As they worked together, Sarah chatted about their plans for the day. Emily nodded, listening carefully to the way Sarah spoke. The words she used, the tone of her voice—it all felt so normal, so motherly.

A strange warmth bloomed in Emily's chest as she listened, a comforting sense of familiarity from deep within that radiated through her she was hesitant to admit, unable to determine if it came from the Daniel side of her, or from deeper within.

As they finished folding clothes, Sarah glanced at the clock. "Emily, why don't you go see if your dad needs help with anything in the garage?"

Emily hesitated at the word "Dad," but realizing there was no escape from this role, she forced a smile. "Okay, Mom," she said, testing the word on her tongue, feeling its weight and significance.

She paused for a moment, watching Sarah's reaction. Sarah turned, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Great! Just put the clothes on the chair for now, and I'll take care of them."

The softness in Sarah's smile tugged at something deep within, a piece of Emily surfacing that Daniel couldn’t entirely push away.

In the garage, Thomas was tinkering with something mechanical, tools scattered around. He looked up when Emily entered, his face lighting up. "Hey there, kiddo. Want to give me a hand?"

"Kiddo." That word had never been used for Daniel before. And yet, in this body, in this life, it was normal.

"Sure, Dad," Emily said, testing the word just as she had with "Mom." It felt foreign and comforting all at once—more comforting than it should, she thought. Yet the act of saying 'Dad' seemed to settle something inside her, providing an unexpected anchor.

"Could you pass me that wrench?" Thomas asked, completely unaware of the internal battle Emily was facing. She handed him the tool, feeling some comfort in the simplicity, the act of helping in a tangible way that soothed the tension in her chest.

The rest of the day blurred by. Sarah and Thomas seemed blissfully unaware of the turmoil beneath Emily's quiet demeanor. They treated her with warmth, love, and care—things that had been absent in Daniel’s life for so long. By evening, the weight of the day pressed heavily on Emily’s shoulders. She climbed back into bed that night, mentally exhausted from the constant pretense of fitting into this new life.

However, she considered that perhaps she had taken the first steps in embracing this new reality, and though the road ahead was uncertain, she believed that maybe—just maybe—she had a family in this strange, unfamiliar universe.

That thought, as uncomfortable as it was, felt like a tiny victory.

She lay awake—her thoughts a jumble of fear and uncertainty. Suddenly, she realized something that made her sit up. “Oh…sh..” she started before quickly self censoring lest her new parents heard her. “Tomorrow is a school day right? How in the world do I navigate a school I have no no experience with?”

Her mind raced with the complications this could bring. What if she didn't know where her classroom was? What if she couldn't remember her teacher's name?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. Sarah peeked in, a soft smile on her face. "Everything okay, Emily?" she asked, stepping into the room. Emily nodded, but Sarah could see the worry etched on her face. She sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of hair from Emily's forehead.

The touch felt strangely familiar to Emily, something that stirred a flicker of warmth deep inside her—an emotion Daniel couldn’t quite place.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily hesitated, then shook her head. "School... I’m nervous—it’s just... a lot to take in."

Sarah nodded understandingly. "I can imagine. You’ll be fine, starting a new school can be scary but…you’ll be okay I promise.”

“Well, that is something…” Emily thought to herself instinctively drawing on Daniel’s more tactical thinking skills. “New school? I can go incognito a bit more easily in that case…I hope” she mused, grasping and releasing the sheets on her bed. “There may be less pressure to…recognize people?”

“How about I read you a story? It might help you relax." Sarah offered kindly, still sensing nervousness in her daughter although it was reasons that Sarah could never imagine.

Emily’s looked up in surprise, her eyes widened. "A story?" Daniel vaguely remembered his own parents reading stories to him—though that memory was long buried. Instead, something about Sarah offering to read a story stirred an emotion, a voice that wasn’t Daniel’s at all.

"Yes, a story," Sarah said, her smile widening. "Would you like that?"

Emily did not realize it but she nodded slowly, unconsciously - the sensation inside her deepening, as though some part of her needed this more than she realized.

Sarah picked up a children’s book from the shelf, and sitting down beside Emily on the bed, she began to read, her voice soothing and rhythmic. Emily listened, not particularly paying attention to the words, but instead letting the moment wash over her - Sarah’s voice - no - her mother’s voice, gently lulling her, enjoying the sense of safety and security she had not known all day and perhaps for years in her time as Daniel. The fear and uncertainty of the day started to fade. Emily’s eyes grew heavy and by the time the story ended, she was barely awake.

"Goodnight, Em," Sarah whispered, tucking the blanket around her. "Everything will be okay."

For a brief moment, an instinctive warmth swelled at the sound of the name "Em," something that tugged at the edges of Daniel's mind—unfamiliar and yet deeply comforting. Emily shook it off, and instead, as she drifted off to sleep, she felt a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to navigate this new life.