Sophie Foster's Diary [COMPLETE]

December 5, 2008

A few months after my fall, everything had returned to normal. I mean, at least I wasn't The Girl Who Fell anymore. 

I was surprised my mom had actually let me stay home for two weeks after my fall when I could've been back in a few days.

But I was glad. I needed time to adjust.

To reading minds.

At home, when my father left for work and it was just me, my mom and my sister at home I would sit in my room trying to block out the voices. Not my mom and my sister's actual voices, but their mental voices. Not that Amy wasn't the loudest toddler I ever knew. 

Even when my mom was in the basement finding my old clothes and my sister was napping at the same time, I could hear both of them, clear as day, from my room even with the doors closed and earplugs in. 

I could barely think, their voices bothered me so much.

But that wasn't the weirdest thing that has happened. 

Ever since my accident, my neighbour (who I think is much more nosy then he ought to be), Mr. Forkle, comes over every week for dinner. 

Every. Week. And it's annoying.

My mom invited him to come over because he "saved" me. 

Yeah, he did. But still! It's been two months!

Not to mention that it seems he's onto me and my mind reading. 

Every time he comes, just before he leaves, he leans so close to me I can smell his stench of dirty feet and whispers, "Sophie, are your headaches alright?" 

Every time I just shrugged and looked away. I really hope he doesn't know.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Back at school was an entirely different thing. It wasn't just two voices in my head all day, sometimes even four, but now it was hundreds of them. 

Downstairs I could hear little wisps of incomprehensible words and thoughts from the little kids (wait. I was one of them. Sort of.) and then all these other thoughts from people in my class and grade. 

They were not nice thoughts. 

I wished I could block them out, but the only way I could think of it was listening to music. Very loud music. It muted the voices a little bit. 

Except the teachers didn't like that. I was sent to the office by my science teacher, Mr. Smith. 

His exact words were, "Sophie Foster, if you think that you have a right to listen to music," he pulled out my earbuds and glared at me, "in science class, then so be it. But I won't tolerate this. It's unacceptable! Oh, the children these days, thinking they have rights. But no! So off you go, Miss Foster. To the principal's office!" he rolled the r in principal.

I sighed, gathered my books and trudged down to the principal's office. He was a nice man, but decided it was only fair that I received a day of detention. 

So at the end of the day I went to the gym for my "detention".

"You are..." said a teacher at the far side of the gym.

"Sophie Foster," I said, my voice reverberating around the gym.

"Sophie Foster," she muttered as she wrote my name on a clipboard. "What could a first grader have done to get detention?" She looked up at me.

"I'm in fifth grade," I said. 

She raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm not kidding!" I said.

"Um-hm..." she said, clearly not believing me. She suddenly clapped, and the other students — by the looks of it, two sixth-graders, five eighth-graders, all girls, and three fourth-grader boys — turned to look at her. 

"You came here for detention!" she cried. "Not to chit-chat! Twenty laps around the gym."

Everyone, including me, groaned, but we reluctantly began to jog.

Me and my short little legs came up second-to-last, but the one girl lagging behind me was panting heavily, even if we hadn't even gone ten meters.

I looked back at her.

"Oh, " she wheezed, catching me looking at her. "Don't mind me. I've got asthma. Don't let Coach yell at you for waiting for me."

I didn't go faster.

"You must be Sophie," she said after contemplating whether to talk to me.

"How do you know?" I asked, even if I could have just read her mind.

"You're the girl who skipped, like, five grades," she panted.

"Oh, well, I..." I winced. I didn't like skipping grades, much less being reminded of it. "It's no biggie," I said.

"No biggie!" she said. "You're six and in the grade before me!"

"You're in Grade six?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "My sister's over there, eighth grade. The other girl who was with me — I know you noticed — she just wants to get close to my sister through me. My sister's popular. I'm more academic." The girl stopped. It was just one lap.

"Why isn't she helping you? With running, you know. Since you have asthma?" I asked. 

"She doesn't want to lower her reputation. And I frankly don't care. She is nasty," the girl took a deep breath and began running again. I followed. 

"I'm Olivia, by the way," the girl said.

"You already know me," I smiled.

For the next nineteen laps, we just talked about school and our lives at home, comparing our sisters — we agreed that Amy was better — for now — and as we left the building, I realized I needed a ride home and that my mom doesn't know where I am.

I gasped mid-conversation. 

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked.

"I... need to call my mom," I said frantically. I didn't have a phone!

"Here, you want to borrow mine?" Olivia asked, holding out a sparkly new phone.

"T-thanks," I stammered, taking a few steps away to call my mom.

The moment my mother picked up, she screamed, "SOPHIE! IS THAT YOU! WHERE ARE YOU? I'M COMING RIGHT NOW, JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!"

"MOM!" I yelled so she'd hear me over her frantic yelling. "Mom!"

"Sophie?" she asked. "Is it you?"

"Yes!" I said, exasperated. "I'm at school."

"What on earth are you doing at school? Did you miss your bus?" my mother asked, calming a bit now that I told her I hadn't been kidnapped or something.

"I had... detention," I said.

"Detention!" my mother said. "How —"

"I'll tell you at home," I said, casting a glance at Olivia. "I'm borrowing a friend's phone right now — "

"A friend !" my mother squealed. I rolled my eyes. Was Olivia even my friend?

"We met at detention," I said. My mom stopped squealing.

"Is she a bad person?" A gasp. "Or a boy?"  she said.

"No! It's a girl!" Olivia turned to look at me, surprised.

"Mom!" I whisper-yelled. "Just come get me. I'll wait at the front door. Bye now!" I hung up and handed the phone back to Olivia. 

"Thanks," I said. 

"No problem," she winked at me. "See you tomorrow!" she said before hopping into a shiny white car parked nearby.

I watched the car pull away until it disappeared into the sunshine. 

Had I really made a friend?