Y/n Holmes // Sherlocks Sister

10

The airs cold as I walk through the busy streets a of London, scrolling through my phone trying not to make any sort of contact with anyone. I start to get hungry so I head over to a small café about 5 minutes away from my college. The menu's pretty shit so I just order a black coffee and I buy a plain ham sandwich, not sure why though because I hate sandwiches. Sitting down at a table in the corner, I start to think about college. Everyone there probably hates me, they all think I'm some weirdo who hardly ever turns up and if I do I just sit alone and cause a scene in any classroom I walk into.
I go to drink some of my coffee when the sleeve of my hoodie catches on my cuts from the night before. Fuck. I forgot all about that, well this is shit. I don't feel guilt about it because no one knows, I just hate having to hide them and that I'm so dependent on doing something just so I can understand how I'm feeling. It's easier to cause the pain then not being able to figure out whats wrong with me. All I can think about is how everyone always looks at me in college, their eyes always glaring at me with judgment and disgust.

I can't go in. Everyone there just pisses me off and intimidates me, they can't know that though. I always have to pretend like I don't care. I've told myself enough times that I don't care to the point where I believe that I don't, but deep down I know that I do and I know that I care more then I should. But how am I going to get away with not going in? Surely they'll call Sherlock and tell him that I'm not in. I could just phone up and say I'm still not feeling too great and that I'll do extra credit work tomorrow. Yes. Always give them a reason to let you off.

"Good Afternoon, this is the Imperial College of London." I can just hear the fake smile through the phone.
"Hi, I'm a student here and I don't think I'll be able to make it in," I mumble, putting on my best sick voice.
"Can you tell me your name and the reason you can't come in?"
"Yeah it's Y/N Holmes and I've just got a really bad migraine and I feel really sick when I move."
"Ah okay Y/N, well you're attendance is very low at the moment. Are you certain you won't be able to make it in today?"
"Yeah, sorry. I'll do some extra credit work or stay behind or something tomorrow to make up for the time lost."
"Okay, well we'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

That's the phone call out of the way. Now, I can't really go back to the flat for at least 2 hours, so, the park it is.
I finish my coffee, bin the sandwich, and head out back into the freezing air.
I sit at a bench in the park and pull out the ziplock bag, being careful to pull it into me a bit so no one from security can see, and light a smoke up. The warm air travelling down my throat burns, but it feels great.
After another one my eyes start to feel heavy and my hands begin to shake as I put away the bag. The trees look more vibrant this way, and the sky. The world would just be more colourful if everyone was high all the time, it's so pretty. I sit on the bench and just watch the river flow as people walk by.

I often wonder how their lives must be. Are they happy? Are they successful? Is it all just a facade which no one has managed to shake yet? I'll never know. So I like to create my own story of theirs. For instance an older woman walked by. She seemed to be quite lonely but she was quiet cheerful. She wore a purple dress just below her knees with matching tights and shoes, very well coordinated. Probably has a clean house, good money. Her hairs also been recently done so she likes to take care of herself. Leaning towards the fact that she probably lives alone since she wouldn't spend so much time on herself and would spend it on the person she loves, also suggesting that she could potentially be seeing someone because of how well she gets herself taken care of. She seems quiet familiar, like an old friend or someone you see everyday maybe. She has one of those generic faces. Or maybe.. shit. It IS someone I know. And someone Sherlock, John, Mycroft and anyone else who comes to the house knows. It's Mrs. Hudson.

Oh shit, just try and look away. She hasn't seen me yet so maybe if I just look down she won't recognise me. I quickly glance up and see that she's walking towards me. Great. I get up to leave, failing to do so as the drugs haven't even began to leave my system yet. I stumble around, checking my phone to see it's been an hour and a half. Good enough. I try to keep a fast pace when rushing past people, walking fast in order to get away from her. In about 10 minutes I'm back at the flat and on my sofa. It didn't seem like 10 minutes though. It all just kind of blurred together.
I change into a T-shirt, turn the heating off because it's too hot in this flat, and watch some random TV show. Well, not watch just kinda stare at it for a while.