"It's time to wake up, John! Look around you, he's gone. He was a fraud, stop holding onto a ghost. He lied to you; he lied to all of us. He didn't care who he hurt. He was a sociopath." Everyone continues to try to convince me it was all a clever lie, but I refused to fall into that trap. He was the best man and the most human, human being I have ever known. Yet, despite trying so hard to hold on. the face I had once memorized every detail of had started to slip from my memory. Every night, I dream of him on Bart's. Sometimes I'm falling with him; other times, I'm watching him die, screaming out his name in agony. I relive every moment of that fatal day. I've seen friends die, good people disappear before my, but none have haunted me more so than Sherlock's death. No matter how many people despise Sherlock, I will not be silent about how brilliant the man was. I won't ever doubt him. I will keep his legacy alive until I'm lying next to him, blanketed by dirt. I won't "wake up" until I forget every detail that made him him.