Chapter I: Let me start at the End
221b Baker Street. This place, this cave of painful nostalgia, a prison cell filled with regrets and 'what ifs', I remember it so well. See, this is my home, or more correctly was my home. It's a terrible thing, losing someone, its like drowning in an ice cold river. The shock, pure disbelief hits you first, harder than anything you can imagine. Then comes the panic, a million and one questions running like wild fire through your brain. Why has this happened? Why me? Why you? Pain, that's whats next, searing pain on every inch of skin, every bone feels snapped, every muscle torn, every part of you broken so you can never be fixed. Finally, it changes, gets worse in fact. I could take the pain, at least I felt alive back then, not like now, now the numbness has a hold of me. I've lost count of the days, because I don't want to remember. I let it blend into days that last a lifetimes because I can't stand to take myself back to that day. The day you jumped. The day Sherlock Holmes died and I died too.