You decide to do your best to blend in. Unlike that endless month, you've now got fourteen years until Walpurgisnact attacks. During which time people will remember your actions. You can't afford to distinguish yourself too much if you want to be able to act without suspicion.
Not that you actually have much choice in the matter.
Being a newborn is a humiliating experience. You have been stripped of nearly everything. Your magic, your weapons, your home, your past, your ability to walk and talk, your very identity. You can't even control your bladder anymore. It's frustrating, being so helpless, especially considering your oath to never depend on anyone anymore. Now you have no choice but to depend on Sayaka's parents for everything. Mobility, food, entertainment, cleanliness, and more.
Worse, it feels like you're slowly losing yourself. Every day, those years spent looping repeating that hellish month over and over grow just a little bit harder to remember. A little closer to losing yourself and becoming Sayaka. The thought scares you. To have gone through all that hell only to become that girl who served as nothing but a detriment to your efforts. To add to your own failure. You know that you must take some sort of action to ensure you remember what happened. To know what you have to prepare for.
Still, it's not all bad. You do have fourteen whole years to prepare. If you can manage to hold onto yourself until then, you just might find a way to defeat Walpurgisnact. With that in mind, you once more attempt the struggle that is crawling. Not walking. Walking before you crawl is unnatural, and you vaguely remember it being a sign of some sort of mental disorder. No, you must blend in. Which means crawling first. Even if you're pretty sure going straight to walking would actually be the quicker path to full mobility.
Likewise, you've been very careful to keep your babbling away from anything resembling words whenever anyone else is present. When alone, you try to talk, but it is a difficult task to accomplish without teeth. It doesn't help that you're tongue doesn't seem to move the way you want it to. Still, you press on.
0o0o0
You have accomplished the first step on a long path to saving Madoka: gaining access to paper and a crayon. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. With paper and a crayon, you can at least record your memories so that you can keep them in mind. You're not stupid enough to write them out normally, of course. Instead, you'll use a code that you developed to keep your own notes from being read back when you were doing the "time traveler's diary" thing. Between the code and your own bad coordination, the notes should look like nothing more than numerous scribbles.
You lower your crayon to the paper. And stop.
You can't remember your code.
You remember developing it. You vaguely recall what the letters are supposed to look like. But you don't remember what represents what.
Hesitantly, you decide to use regular writing instead. You'll need to hide it, but you...
You can't remember how to write. At all.
You look at the paper. You look at the crayon. Tears well up in your eyes, and years of training at controlling your emotions spontaneously fails you. You cry.
0o0o0
It takes a frustratingly long time to get the Miki family to let you near crayons and paper again, but eventually they do. You immediately set into motion your Plan B. You make your best attempt at a rendition of Walpurgisnact. It is terrible. You also make your best renditions of Kyubey. Failing to remember what the incubator looks like could ruin you. Likewise, you draw Mami, Kyouko, and Sayaka. Your last drawing is of Madoka. You don't need to draw her to remember her. But you do it anyways. Dozens of minutes of care go into the crayon rendition of your best friend. And of course, yo-Sayaka's parents "ooh" and "ah" over the whole thing, and talk about what an artist their daughter is turning out to be.
They're so proud of your art that they put your drawings right up on their refrigerator. You don't complain. It's much easier to remember what happened when you can just go back and look whenever you want to. Still, you wish they hadn't put Walpurgisnact on upside down.
0o0o0
Sayaka's parent's are monsters. They have removed your drawings from the refrigerator. Without them, your memories could potentially fade into the background as your life goes on. You must do something.
[] Throw a temper tantrum to get them to put your pictures back on the fridge.
[] Make new drawings.
-[] Get Sayaka's parents to put them up on the fridge.
-[] Hide them in your crib. You must keep them safe at all costs.
[] Try to develop a new coded writing system. A picture might be worth a thousand words, but you want to keep the details.
[] Just try to remember everything.
[] Focus on something else. (What?)