Authornotes: So this is my first fanfic, I hope you enjoy it. The first chapter is short because I wanted to give a sort of introduction that invites to comment on the characters so far and get a feeling for the setting and such.
Feedback is highly recommended and will be taken in mind!
Now, enjoy the first very short (I know, I know, the other ones will be longer) chapter!
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He had started to paint, since he was on his way of being thrown out of the flat when he played the violin late at night. It was not as soothing, but it still helped him to think and manage frustration. He had been up all night, and when he finally inspected the canvas he could do nothing but frown. It was rubbish, but at least he could go to school in a calm state.
Sherlock Holmes put on his coat, several nicotine patches and left 221B Baker Street. Making his way to the first class that morning.
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John looked up at the big building in front of him. No, big was an understatement.. The gigantic building in front of him sounded more appropriate. This was supposed to be his new school, and he felt out of place already.
He looked at the people around him, it seemed like it was the posh-people convention or something. John came from a family of small measures and was hardly used to see so many fancy cars and custom made shoes at once. Slowly he started moving towards the entrance, telling himself that at least it couldn't get worse.
When he finally had found his way to the school information desk the lady had given him a pitiful smile and then started explaining the rules of the school in such a way that it was obvious that she thought of John as some sort of lower being. After she was done with her moronic speech, she handed him his schedule and John turned to leave. But the lady stopped him and started explaining that everyone in the school was assigned to a guide the first week in school, she then stated that she would call out for the pupil who had been picked for this assignment.
He heard a loud screech as she turned on the speakers for an announcement, and he almost prayed to god that it better not be some hopeless stuck up prick coming his way.
"Would mr. Sherlock Holmes come down to the information desk, please.", A voice said through the speakers.
John leaned back against the wall and waited, anticipating the worst day of his life.
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Let the reviews begin, please!
