"SHERLOCK!" John shouted, lowering his mobile. It was too late though. His friend had already jumped and was begining his dreadful descent. John sprinted in a feeble attempt to somwhow stop his friend's inevitable fate, but it was no use. No matter how hard John tried, the distance between him and Sherlock seemed to grow greater with every step he took.
John awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide, still full of fear from his re-occuring nightmare. He ran a hand over his face feeling sweat. With a deep sigh he turned to look at his alarm clock. Great. what was he supposed to do at 3:30 in the morning?
He flopped his head back onto the pillow and sighed again. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep-not now. This was starting to happen often, his insomnia was getting worse and staring into space certainly wouldn't help to cure it.
Slowly, John pushed himself up with his thin arms and got changed into a sweater and jeans-nothing special. He had decided to go to the coffee shop. He was now becoming a regular there, turning up in the early hours of the morning. Lukily for him, it was open 24 hours a day.
John plodded down the street, not bothering to zip his jacket up to sheild himself against the cold, biting rain. Every now and again, he would stop to rub his tired sleep-deprived eyes and take a long yawn.
As he wind chime rang when John finnaly walked into the coffee shop and took his usual seat on the stool next to the counter, the woman serving smiled down at him.
"Still having trouble getting to sleep?" She asked politely whilst pouring John's coffee.
"It's no use even trying to sleep any more." He replied with a quiet sigh.
"Well do you know why you might be finding it hard to get to sleep?"
At hearing this, John closed his eyes at the painful memories that instantly shot into his head like bullets. She knew nothing, he told himself, but he couldn't be angry at her. It wasn't her fault. John sighed yet again. Feeling sad for himself wouldn't bring back his dead friend, he needed to try and get on with his life-forget the tragic past.
"Listen," John said forcing a small smile to the waitress ", would you ever like to go out together sometime? We could go to the cenima or.." John slowly trailed away as a great metalic whirring sound cut him off.
Right infront of the coffee shop window, out of nowhere, had appeared a big blue telephone box. John's eyebrows knitted together with confusion as he studied it closely, now paying no attention to the waitress or anyone else.
As idf it was just a normal thing to do, out of the mysterious phone box came a man. He was dressed rather strangely;a tweed blazer, an alarmingly bright red bow tie and an ordanairy white shirt, his thick brown fringe left to hang over his forehead.
The man's gase met John's. At this, John quickly turned back to face the waitress, but she wasn't there anymore, she had gotten bored and walked away, leaving John all on his own with nothing but his coffee for company. John paniced and began to sip his steaming coffee again, trying to pretend that he hadn't just seen anything.
'ting-a-ling' went the wind chime as somebody entered. John flinched slightly as the person's heavy leather shoes plodded along the wooden floor and then came to a sudden hault.
"Hello everyone," Came the man's voice loud, clear and confident ", I'm the Doctor and I'm looking for a Dr. John H. Watson."