A/N: Hey guys so this is my first Sherlock Fanfic and I am a little nervous about posting this so let me know what you think and stick around for more! :D

Transcripts:

Therapist: He is a bad man….

Patient: (Ignores therapist.)

Therapist: You can't believe that he is a good man. He killed people. Do you want to stay here until you turn eighteen do you?

Patient: (Narrows eyes at therapist) There's nothing left in the real world that you haven't already taken.

Therapist: What do you mean?

Patient: (Rolls eyes and scoffs.) Seriously? You're going to sit there and play stupid? My family, my life, my friends… my future. You took it all away from me okay?

Therapist: How is your future ruined?

Patient: You ruined it.

Therapist: How… ?

Patient: I refuse to answer any more questions… Are we done here?

Therapist: For now...

*****Eleven years later*******

Being back in the city after ten years is hard. Even if you were born there. But people leave for a reason right? Wrong, I was taken away, at the age of eleven, my father was wronged by the people he loved, and I was forced to leave the life that I loved. My best friend, whom I was never able to contact again, went on with life thinking I had died.

It was the worst thing that could have ever happened to my life. I gave up my passion of hoping to become a doctor and be in the army and joined the local dance studio in Moscow, Russia hopping to continue with the passion that my dad had started me on so long ago.

So when I came home to London I didn't know what to do with myself. I knew no one anymore, and the city had changed dramatically. I had been in the city for exactly five weeks when I was finally beginning to settle down.

It was rather cold outside the day that my life changed. I had stopped at the local tea shop for some hot tea when I ran into him. My long lost friend from those oh so many years ago, he looked much older now but still the same. The smile he gave to the waitress was still the same goofy smile he gave to almost everyone.

But I almost had a heart attack when he turned around and looked directly at me. He had a blank look on his face though as he smiled and turned around. That disappointed me, but why would he recognize me? It had been so long. So when I decided to say hello I figured I would be okay, but I was wrong.

"Hello there John Watson." I smiled as he turned back around.

"Hi, um… I'm sorry, do I know you?" He was still clueless.

"Yeah, Tara, Tara Williams… we used to live across the street from each other." I said, unfortunately my hardly unnoticeable British accent gets in the way forcing me to talk faster.

"Tara? No way…" He said with disbelief.

"Yeah, your mother used to be really good friends with my father. We used to pretend to be doctors when we were eleven and play in the tree house behind your house."

"Oh my god, it is you Tara! I thought you died! Everyone said that you were killed in a car accident and then your father went away to jail because he was the last one that saw you…"

"I am very much alive." I smiled as he is handed his tea.

He checks his watch and frowns. "There is actually somewhere I need to be right now. Do we think we could talk later?" he said as he writes down a phone number and hands it to me.

"Of course."

"It was nice to see you again." He smiled as he walked out the door.

'Until later.' I smiled as I looked down at the sloppy hand writing. And the day had suddenly become glorious. Maybe my life would become great again. I thought as I head to the dance studio to prepare for the upcoming show of that night.

My life had taken a beautiful turn and the world was becoming something glorious again…

And REVOLUTIONARY.