Hi everyone! This is my first ever fanfiction so i hope you like it! Please review if you have the time, it would make me very happy (criticism is welcomed).
By the way, bold italics are the present day and normal writing is the past.
Enjoy!
"Sherlock?" John Watson said, tentatively. There was no reply, as he knew there wouldn't be. He wished he knew what was bothering the tall detective whom he was trying to talk to. John hated it when this happened. Sherlock would just lie on the sofa and not say a word, sometimes for days at a time. John stared at Sherlock's face of stony indifference and knew it was a lie.
"Um, Sherlock, you have a text from lestrade. He's got a case for us." John tried again. Silence. He let out a huff and left the room.
Sherlock sighed and looked around. It had been exactly nineteen years today since it had happened. He tried his hardest not to think about it. To block it out. But some days that just wasn't possible and it all came flooding back. Today was one of those days.
Sherlock shut his eyes and groaned. Memories were coming thick and fast now. Giving up on shutting them out he instead submersed himself in them, starting at the beginning, as far back as he could remember…
A small boy, around seven years old, sat on a bench. Looking disdainfully down at his snack he picked up a sandwich and begun to chew slowly. At the sound of shouting coming from nearby he looked up. Two girls who looked the same age as the boy were having a heated argument three meters from where the boy was sitting.
"WIERDO!"
"That's cruel! " A girl with long, wavy, red hair said, looking on the verge of tears.
"Well, you are! You never want to play hair dressers or dolls or anything! You just sit there and read your book! Your weird and you have no reason to be, why can't you just act normal? I don't want to be your best friend anymore. "
"That's mean Sally!"
But the other girl had already run off, leaving the ginger girl to sit on the floor and start to cry.
The dark haired boy was still watching unnoticed by the girl. He was watching closely, examining her every move. Suddenly the girls head snapped up and she hastily wiped away her tears looking around.
"What are you looking at?" She snapped.
"You're crying." The boy stated, his head cocked to one side.
"Yes," the girl said defiantly, "And?"
The boy looked confused.
"Do you enjoy it?"
"What?"
"Crying. Do you enjoy it?"
The girl just looked at him.
"Well, it's just you seem to be doing a lot of it recently and I was wondering why you would do something you didn't enjoy."
"You've never cried?" She asked.
"Of course I have, but I didn't enjoy it so I haven't done it since." The girl was staring at him as if he was mad.
At this point the bell rang for silence, signalling the end of break effectively ending their conversation and saving the girl from having to answer.
The next day, lunch started of pretty much the same way. The thin, dark haired boy sat on his bench and started eating his sandwich, looking as if there was nowhere else in the world he would want to be less than where he was then. He had finished his sandwich and started on his apple when a shadow fell across his face. He looked up into the face of a large boy who was in year six.
"Yes?" He said politely.
"You're that weird kid in year three, aren't you? My brother, Jonathon Anderson , is in you class and he says you're a total nutter. Just to let you know, we don't accept weirdoes here. So you better stop being such a freak or you'll regret it."
"What did you call me?" The boy asked in a quiet voice.
"Are you deaf? I said Freak. Maybe I have you speak louder so you can hear." All the boy's friends were laughing now. "YOU ARE A FREAK! FREAK! I SAID FREAK!"
"Excuse me?" said a voice from next to Anderson's brother. It was the small girl with long red hair that the boy on the bench had seen crying the day before.
"What?" The bully snapped rudely.
"I was wondering if I could make a suggestion?" The girl waited for answer and when there wasn't one continued anyway.
"I think you should stop being such cowards and pick on someone your own size."
Anderson's brother took a menacing step forward and snarled "Oh, do you?"
"Yes." She said simply. "I do."
"And what are you going to do about it?"
"I'll tell Mrs Smith." Mrs Smith was the menacing deputy head that nobody liked. In many ways, she was scarier than the headmaster.
The boy stumbled backwards.
"Y-You wouldn't."
"I would."
The bullies scattered, all running in different directions to get away from the tiny ginger girl that could cause so much havoc.
The girl smiled at the boy who stared for a moment before tentatively giving a tiny smile back.
"Hi, my name's Ruby."
"I'm Sherlock Holmes."