John Watson shoved his hands into his coat pocket as he walked through the crowded shopping centre. He had received several stern text messages and phone calls from his sister telling him to get out of the house. 'This is as good a place as any' he thought. The florescent lights were giving him a headache and he was just about to walk into a half-empty coffee shop when a young girl of 14 or 15 with frizzy brown hair walked up to him. "You're John Watson, aren't you?" She asked. He looked at her; she was wearing a black home-made t-shirt with the words 'I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES' written on it in white spray paint. "Er… yes." He told her, he was slightly puzzled. To his great a surprise, she hugged him and told him "Don't stop believing in him" Before running off back to her friends, one of whom was visibly wearing a similar t-shirt bearing the slogan 'Moriarty was real'. He felt a slight smile tug at his lips and walked into the coffee shop.
Three exactly had passed since his best friend; Sherlock Holmes had jumped off the roof of St. Bartholomew's hospital. So John did what he had done the previous years on this day. He went down to the cemetery and sat on the soft ground above where Sherlock supposedly lay. "I miss you, you know." He whispered. "London is so empty without you." John sighed and got up to leave, touching the gravestone lightly with the tips of his fingers before turning around and leaving. Alone.