"I watched him fall, closing my eyes as his body made impact with the ground. I will never forget his eyes, the last of his life draining out of them." enter button "My best friend was dead and I could do nothing to change that." enter. "I loved him." John hit enter harshly before shutting his laptop. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. This was going to be the last entry on his blog. Yet he couldnt find it in him to type out the whole story. 'It would have shamed him.' he thought, 'To have his life out there for everyone to see.' "I can't do that to him." John shook his head, willing away the pathetic sobs he held in his throat. "Not to him." Closing his eyes, John slouched forward. He recapped the last moments of that day. The paramedics rushing in and pulling him body this way and that, the smell of the hospital, the white curtain closing around him; shielding him from the rest of the room. Having to be sedated so as not to disturb other patients. Waking up with his throat raw from crying and screaming. John was jerked out of his terror by a pair of warm hands on his back, massaging the muscles and easing the pain. He sighed, resting his head in his hands. "I dont know what I'm going to do with you," The voice from behind him said. "You've got to forget about it or else itll eat you alive. thats what the therapist said." John nodded, arching his back into the hands now working towards his neck. "I can't stop thinking about him, though." Johns voice seemed loud now, in the silence. "I'll never be able to." a pause "Should I be jealous?" The voice sounded playful, but the underlying seriousness still remained. "Of course not. it's silly to be jealous over a dead man." The silence dragged on, but the hands continued to work at john's neck, pulling the pain out of the muscles like magic. "Don't you think?" Silence, before finally "It's silly to hold on to the memory of a dead man, too" The voice was almost chastising as it spoke this time. Johns eyes opened, sitting upright "What are you talking about?" He turned in his chair but found he was talking to thin air. "Why do you do this to me?" He waited for an answer. When he didn't receive one, he added sadly, "I miss you, Sherlock."