Impossible - KOTLC Fanfiction

Thirty-Nine

She looked left and right, both doors looking more convincing than the other. Sophie couldn't decide which door to pick.

Then, using her impenetrable mind, she imagined the space between the door opening up and creating a path for her so she wouldn't have to face the scorn of the incorrect choice, time stopping almost immediately just like as if closing her eyes and using her imagination was the answer.

She opened her eyes, looking around, seeing if anything had changed, and some things had.

Nothing was moving like it had moments earlier.

The opening was real. Sophie walked closer and closer to it until it was just in front of her.

She walked in cautiously.

The sides of the opening was closing. Her steps increased into speed-walking until she was sprinting.

Sprinting to the finish line.

Sprinting to her future.

Then, at the end of the passage, was four words and five doors.

This decides your fate.
__________

Sophie was hyperventilating.

Which door do I pick?

Which door should I pick?

What if I pick the wrong one?

Just like in the room of voices, her mind's words changed.

It's up to me.

I should listen to my heart. Not my mind.

At least I die knowing I tried. I tried to save Fitz.

She picked the door farthest to the left. She stepped three steps towards the door and a voice said, "Is this your final choice?"

Yes, she thought.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Yes." She said louder.

"YES!" She yelled.

The door opened wider.

And inside, in the corner of the room, was a glittering contraption.

The tracker.
________

She sprinted towards the tracker, the searing burns and the painful bruises no longer bothering her. She was so close. She will not give up now. Not after all she's done.

She touched the button on the glass cover shielding the tracker.

The glass lid unfolded itself in an odd position, revealing the tracker.

This is it.

The item determining whether or not the fate of Fitz will be in shame, triumph, or grief.

Sophie lunged for the tracker, finding herself yearning for the tracker. Her hands froze inches away from the golden device, as if there was an invisible barrier,

I want it.

No, that wasn't the right wording.

I need it.

Just like that, just like as if the barrier broke, like there was a force pushing her hands towards the barrier, almost knocking it down.

She admired it, tracing the her fingers against the buttons.

I have it now.

I can find Fitz.

And end all this stupid circle now.