Duluth / A Keeper of the Lost Cities Fanfiction

Duluth / 15

Mental suppression was the act of suppressing abilities. It wasn't healthy for any elf to undertake it, as it put a great strain on the mental balance of the brain, and could even threaten to break a mind, as if it would have been by guilt. It wasn't common. It was actually very rare, only done by those who were trying to hide an ability or forced upon young children who manifested an ability that their parents didn't wish for them to have. 

It could be done by those who didn't have the ability of a telepath, but having the ability definitely helped Sophie do hers. 

The process wasn't long, nor was it difficult, but it was very painful. During the process and after, and Sophie wasn't counting on the pain going away anytime soon. 

"I'm being careful, Fitz," Sophie told him softly. "I'm monitoring it, and my mind's not about to break." 

Fitz shook his head so violently, Sophie wouldn't be surprised if it flew off his shoulders. "You don't know that Sophie, you know how it works. It can happen slowly, you might not even notice. Let me take a look," he said, reaching his hands out and taking a step towards Sophie. His fingertips barely grazed Sophie's temples before she staggered back, hitting the lockers. 

"No!" She cried out. "No, you'll just undo everything!" If he had the chance to, his mind was strong enough to break through the chains that was holding every single one of her abilities down. And though the throbbing in her head that had now reached her brain stem begged her to just let him do it, to let him free her of the pain, she knew she couldn't. 

Fitz's eyes flashed and he stalked back across the hallway, pacing. "Sophie, I'm going to have to come back with someone." He stopped, and looked straight at Sophie, his eyes melting into more of a pleading look. "Please Sophie, just come back with me now. It'll make everything so much easier." 

"Fitz, I don't think you understand," Sophie told him, her hands now shaking from anxiety and adrenaline. "I can't. Go. Back. I've always been a dangerous freak, and now I'm an even more dangerous freak. I know you don't get it, but you'll see someday how right I am. This is for your own good, Fitz." 

Fitz glared at Sophie with such an intensity that it made her take a step back. Fitz would never hurt her... would he? Instead he said, "You're so selfish Sophie. I can't even stand to look at you." Without another beat he spun on his heel and stalked out the hallway, leaving Sophie alone. 

Again. 

She didn't even have time to process all the things she could cry about before an ugly and twisted sob burst out of her. And once it started, she couldn't stop. 

She cried for her parents and her friends who missed her and were overextending themselves to try and find her. She cried for Nick and Andrew and Meredith, all of whom she was lying to. She cried for the pain she was feeling, both the pulsing in her skull and the emotional mess she was inside. 

But most of all, she cried for the life she left behind. Not just her family and friends, but the sense of belonging she felt in the Lost Cities. She might have been a freak, but she always had belonged there more than she had belonged anywhere else. 

She stood crying in the hallway, backed up against a locker with her hands over her face for what seemed like hours. And after a while, she lost track of why she was crying, and just kept sobbing because she wanted to. She needed to. 

A pair of soft footsteps interrupted Sophie sobs and she looked up through tear-stained eyelashes and runny mascara to see her best friend standing in front of her. 

Dex. 

And they stood there for a moment, just staring at each other. Sophie's lungs felt like they had the wind knocked out of them. 

But after only 13 seconds of just staring at each other, Sophie let another sob burst from her throat and she held out her arms, a silent request. 

Dex didn't hesitate before he complied, wrapping his arms around his friend like he would never let go again. 

Hope everyone's quarantine is going good! I know everybody feels differently about our current situation, but I am personally thriving. 

Not wasting time with apologies this time because frankly I don't care to write them yet again and I'm sure you don't want to hear them again. 

However, thank you everyone who has stuck with the story! And thanks for everyone who asks me to update; I'm not annoyed by it, it actually makes me really happy. 

Anyway onto something more serious. 

I turned 17 today, but Breonna Taylor didn't get to turn 27 yesterday. George Floyd will never turn 47. Tamir Rice will never turn 13. The list goes on and on, and is filled with so many black men and women and children that have been killed by law enforcement in our country. Change has to happen. 

I have white privilege, and I will never be able to fully understand what African Americans have to go through on a daily basis. My job is not to lead, but instead to listen to and support the voices of POC. I encourage you all to do what you can: to march and protest, to donate, to send emails to politicians, or even sign petitions. 

Just a reminder that black lives matter, and silence is compliance. 

Love you all, and stay safe. 

Jannie