Silence.
Not a sound but slow breathing and occasional sobs.
I am out of place, I cannot be here, nothing feels right. He should be sitting across from me, but he's not.
He's dead.
I miss him so much that I physically ache.
I miss the deepness of his voice and his brilliant deductions.
I miss the screeching sound of his violin at 3 A.M.
I miss the experiments, the heads in the fridge and the horrid messes he left for me to clean up.
I miss running through the streets of London chasing criminals, solving cases.
I miss the way his blue eyes light up when he figures out a case.
I miss the bullet holes in the wall.
I miss his presence near me.
I miss him.
I can't stay here much longer, the silence and the memories are slowly driving me insane.
I hear him, a whisper in the dark, a memory as I try to sleep.
"Good-bye John."
Nightmares of him falling, dead on the pavement, a red pool of blood surrounding his head.
No pulse, no breath of life.
I wake up, covered in sweat and screaming his name, hoping and praying it's just a bad dream.
But no, it was real. I lost my best friend and the love of my life.
I want a miracle, at his grave I asked for a miracle.
I would do anything to get him back.
It's been six months, and I moved to a flat on the other side of London, much to Mrs. Hudson's dismay.
I couldn't stay there, and I know she understood why.
I visit his grave, placing a bouquet of red roses on the tombstone, knowing that if he were alive he would know what I meant by them.
I glance around anxiously, hoping he will magically appear and say it was just a trick, just a magic trick.
But he doesn't and I am heartbroken again.
"Six months and you're still dead. I told myself that I would never tell you how I really felt, I didn't want to ruin what we had, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore."
Deep breath.
"I-I love you Sherlock. I do and I always will."
I leave his grave, tears staining my jumper, sobs escaping my throat.
Going on with life without him will continue to be hell, but I will endure because, I am a soldier and that's what soldiers do.
