Sophie Fosters Journal

Presents

Read to see of you like it. Kind of cheesy story, not way too cheesy but the writing is a bit dramatic. I actually wrote this a more than a year ago, so I thought I might as well publish it. It's not bad, though definitely not my finest piece of work. 

Fitz POV

Sophie was dead. She had been dead for a month now. 

Her seed was seven feet under. She bit the dust. Kicked the bucket.  She past away. She's in eternal slumber. She's brown bread. She bought the farm. Cashed in her chips. Croaked. No matter how you put it Sophie Foster was dead and gone. 

The word died before had been obsolete to me, now it seems to loom over me wherever I go. What if I didn't make her leave her family, would she be dead? What if I had told her my dad asked me to protect and follow her? Would she be dead? No, Sophie Foster would still be here and very much alive. She would have never run down to the caves that day, and she would have never had drowned with Dex. Not only that but she died thinking I wasn't her friend, only a liar, a spy. She died hating me. 

People keep telling me; She never hated you. It isn't your fault. You didn't know... the list goes on and on. I always agree, act just like another sad child of our school, because they couldn't possibly understand. They don't know how it feels to know you killed your own friend. So I pretend I've moved on after a month, but really it's clawing at me on the inside. I try not to feel the guilt, that swirls inside my mind, threatening to crack it open like a full glass bottle in the freezer, because I know what guilt can do. 

I haven't visited Sophie's house yet. I look at the small albertosaurus in my hand. I always carry it around in my pocket. It's the only object of hers that I have, the little thing I remember her by, though it doesn't seem like enough. I don't have that many memories with her either. She was only here for less than a year, though somehow anything before her feels like a lifetime away. And to think I got her the same dumb present as everyone else in the grade. Stupid!

The first day she came here she was so confused, quiet, and shy, but so strong and brave at the same time. Suddenly it occurs to me, maybe she left something in the bedroom she slept in her first night in the Lost Cities. I race down the hall, and into the bedroom. Its empty and clean. The bed is made and the floor is bare. No sign she ever was here. Duh, the gnomes must have cleaned the room since then, to be honest I would be a little worried if they hadn't. It was dumb to have gotten hopes up. I sit down on the bed and cry, hard. I'm not sure why I care so much I could always ask Edaline to bring me one of her things from her bedroom. But I know that it  would be different. I get up in head towards the door, then I stop in my tracks. I can't leave without looking. I unmake the bed, look in the closet, open night table cupboards, under the bed, everywhere. Almost everywhere, I stand over the carved wooden vanity. The only place I haven't checked. I open the small drawers under the desk, and there I see a black ringed plastic notebook, with a cute spaceship on the cover. A human notebook! I quickly open it. It's Sophie's science notebook. I flip through it. A bunch of wrong human theories are scribbled down in loopy handwriting, and sometimes one or two small doodles in the corners. Then something catches my eye. The last used pages are... some sort of journal. I stare at the page. Happier than I have felt in a long time. Ironic considering I'm holding my dead friends journal. Even though I know it's kind of ridiculous, I feel like she left it for me, one last small present.

So I begin to read...