Sophie Foster's Diary [COMPLETE]

An unknown date

The rest of my story is very well known, at least in the Lost Cities.

Fitz Vacker brings me to the Lost Cities, I laugh hysterically at the thought that I was not human, I make a fool of myself my first time in Atlantis, I vomit all over Fitz, I get a picture of me (and Keefe too, so a least I'm not alone in my embarrassment) hung in the Healing Center, and there are so many more humiliating things I will NOT document here. Nope. No way.

Sophie Foster is a name that will probably be written in the history books-not that I mean to brag. It's just, fighting the Neverseen was something my organization did. Normal elves simply stayed home and cowered. I recruited the help I needed to win them.

And we will, I promise.

My human life was a small part of my indefinite life, but it will be remembered for years and decades and centuries and millennia, long after I have human great-great-great-great-great-great-great-you-get-the-idea-grandnieces and nephews that don't know me.

I will never forget my parents, or Amy, or Olivia, or even those horrid kids from my elementary and high schools (unfortunately. I have a photographic memory).

Living at Havenfield with Grady and Edaline and all my friends is great, and I know I'm lucky to have them, but I do wish one day humans ans elves can live in harmony. Then perhaps I can make myself known to those great-nieces and nephews.

I know I should probably be thinking about my next plans to trap the Neverseen, but here I am, writing random notes and thoughts and memories in this notebook. Either way, I'm not worried. I'm in a book, aren't I? Looks like I already made it into the "history books," not that I am pleased that my very personal thought are being sold to people all over the world.

I hope no on knows about my cru-what am I doing? Just lemme scribble this out . . .

WHERE IS MY WHITEOUT?

That's right. Elves don't have whiteout. I guess that will just need to be ripped out . . .

Okay, never mind that. I'm pretty sure people are reading about this as I write. I mean, every single one of my thought seem to be documented somewhere. Why? Ugh, if Fitz is actually spying on me for whoever is writing an unofficial biography about me . . .

Well. I can't think of anything else that's worth writing about. HEAR THAT? PLEASE STOP SPYING ON MY LIFE. I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT AND WOW IT'S COOL TO BE FAMOUS IN SOME WAY, BUT I THINK I'M JUST GONNA BE FINE SITTING AT HOME AND DOING MY OWN STUFF.

Now that that's over . . .

I'm just going to shove this notebook at the bottom of a drawer under all these stationeries I don't need as well as this illegal Spyball and-

"Hey, Foster, what's that?"

Nope. Never mind. I'm doomed.

So there! A short reimagining of Sophie's times in the Forbidden Cities. Thank you all for reading this, and I am literally so surprised I reached 1k, so thank you! This story hasn't had the fastest updates (oops) and it was rather short (oops again) so thank you for reading this random story.