Disclaimer: I own no characters besides my own
I awoke as a man splashed water on my head. His grey, combed hair showed clearly his age. Which was clearly in the forties or fifties. Then a little old woman. Wrinkly cheek bones, blonde dyed hair. Makeup.
"Where am I" my voice sounded distant to myself. A fear then struck me. What was my name. where did I come from.
"You're in flat 221B" the man with combed hair cut off my thoughts.
"Where?" I squinted, trying to release myself of the grogginess.
"London, Britain!" the little old lady smiled joyfully. "You've been unconscious for two days! Get a good sleep?" her tone was happy. I found it suspicious.
"Not at all" I sighed as I sat up on the couch I had been lying on.
"Where are my manners" the old lady huffed. "I am Mrs. Hudson"
"And I am John Watson" the man nodded "I'm a doctor".
"I would tell you who I was" I frowned "But I fear I don't remember".
"Oh it will come back to you darling. All in good time" Mrs. Hudson smiled and walked into a small kitchen across the room.
"Well" I asked John, who remained watching me "Where did I come from?"
"Lestrade called us. He couldn't solve the case" John sighed and grabbed a newspaper, opening it.
"Us? You mean Mrs. Hudson and yourself? And what case?" I was beginning to grow frustrated with my memory, and the man in front of me.
"No" John chuckled at the thought of Mrs. Hudson on a case. "Sherlock and I" he said coolly, looking over a page in the news.
"Sherlock?" I asked, looking around the small living room.
(My first published story! please review and help me improve :)