A/N: Elsewhere was chosen as my outside reading book for English class, suggested by a couple friends, and as a project we were supposed to write fictional diary entries based on the book we'd picked. Mine takes place after Elizabeth is reborn at the end of the book, and how her past life in Elsewhere still haunts her. Also, plenty of book references for you to point out for yourselves. I thought that as a project this turned out okay, and when I found out Elsewhere was listed in the Books category of FF, I had to post this. Hope you enjoy reading! Feedback appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own Elsewhere, where all credit of plot and characters go to Gabrielle Zevin. However, I do own the reborn Elizabeth and Owen, for they are MY fictional characters.

April 3, 4:55 am

I turned twelve yesterday, but I honestly don't feel a difference. I really don't think I'll start to feel anything about getting older until I can go watch PG-13 movies by myself without my mom raising her hand to cover my eyes during the three-second kissing scenes. Seriously, how old does she think I am? I wish I had some kind of older sibling that was twenty-two. One who had a decent job but didn't have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet, so mom and dad could bug he/she about getting married and having grandchildren, but then I suppose he/she would push the responsibility onto me once I got old enough… darn. Plan foiled after all.

The reason I am up at five in the morning is not to complain about how few presents I received for my birthday, because I already did that yesterday. No, the reason I wake up at this incredibly unreasonable time is because I had that strange dream again. You know, the one I mentioned last week? The one where I could talk to dogs? It's really cool, the concept, at least, that I can talk to dogs in my dreams, and as farfetched as the idea seems to be, it actually all kind of makes sense to me, although I have no idea why. Anyway, this dream took place in the same place as my other dream did, but this time I was driving. I don't what I was doing behind a wheel at my age, but that wasn't what freaked me out the most. What really freaked me out was the guy that sat next to me. He looked like he might have been seventeen, eighteen at the most. And it's that the fact that it was some random guy was sitting next to me, it was that he looked a lot like my neighbor, Trent, that ten-year-old boy, just… older. While definitely not identical, you could tell that both might have been brothers or one the older version of the other and vice versa.

I can totally understand why I might dream about talking to dogs, because that's one of those super phenomenal things that all people want to do (but then again, I've actually always wanted to fly, so why dogs?). I do not, however, at all understand why I might dream of a boy that I don't even know that well. I don't mention him much in my entries because he moved here a couple months ago, so he's really a total stranger to me. He seemed nice enough when he came over to offer cookies as a moving-in gift (obviously forced upon by his mother), but then a couple kids down the block spread a rumor about how he still wets the bed, so I've steered clear of his presence since he'd moved in.

Oh, well, Lucy's up. Guess I'd better go and feed my favorite pug in the world!