Chapter 1 - Alone.

Summary: When John's parents die of a deadly disease, he is placed in an orphanage, left to fend for himself.

Hello, there! This is my second fanfic, for those who don't know. I'm having so much fun with the first one that I decided to do another. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are very, very welcome :)

John felt alone. Despite the nurse who sat next to him, he still felt a cold, empty hole growing inside of him. He wanted to go see his parents, but they wouldn't allow him inside the ward. He didn't understand why. He didn't understand anything, really. He didn't understand why the grass was green, or why the sky was blue. He didn't understand why all the nurses wore blue, or why they wore funny masks on their faces. He didn't understand why the nurse next to him was bothering to read him a story that he clearly wasn't paying attention to. All he wanted was to feel the warm embrace of his mother, and be lifted onto his dad's shoulders, where he could see far and wide, like a pirate in a crow's nest.
While John was daydreaming of pirate ships and lost treasure, a nurse came into the waiting room, a sombre look on her face. The nurse sitting next to John stopped reading, jumped up and hurried over. The spoke for a moment, keeping their voices hushed. The first nurse nodded, and the second nurse covered her mouth in horror. They both turned and walked over to John, who was watching curiously. Would they let him see his parents now? Maybe if he asked nicely, if he smiled sweetly and used his large brown puppy dog eyes -
"John," the first nurse said softly. "We're going to take you to see some nice people, and you'll get to stay with them for a while. They have other children too, that you'll be able to play with. Okay?"
John sighed. He didn't want to play with other children, he wanted to play with his dad; building train tracks and playing cars and drawing pictures. He had a special book filled with drawings his father had done for him; dinosaurs, planes, people, fish, all kinds of things. He hoped that one day he'd be able to draw like his dad.
But despite this, he nodded. He had to do what the nurses told him. That's what his mother had told him, anyway. He'd promised her he'd behave well, and not throw any tantrums.
He hopped down of the chair and grabbed his teddy. It was a patchy, scruffy bear, with buttons for eyes. John had recieved him for his 3rd birthday. He was 6 now, and the bear still went everywhere with him. John had named him Oliver.
Holding Oliver in one hand, and the nurses hand in the other, he walked out of the bright, colourful waiting room, into a dark, cold hallway. As they walked, they passed a door with a small, round window in the centre. John tried to peek through the window, but was no where near tall enough. They passed the door and continued into the gathering darkness, occasionally passing another door with a small round window. When they got to the end of the hallway, John peeked back at the first door they'd passed, all the way up the other end. A nurse was pushing a trolley out into the hallway. A person was lying on the trolley, but the blanket was covering their face, too. John thought that was silly; how were they supposed to breath? But before he could think any more of it, the nurse lead him through the door, away from the darkness.

John looked up at the tall, two story building. It looked old-fashioned, like something out of a movie. It had two large, round windows on th second story. John thought they looked like big eyes, and the huge wooden double doors he stood in front of was like a mouth.
John always saw faces on buildings. Some had angry faces, some had surprised faces, some had happy faces. Once, he saw one with three eyes. They were like huge, ravenous monsters, waiting to swallow him up.
The nurse next to him raised her hand and pulled a string hanging next to the door. John heard a huge bell echoing inside, and knew it must be some kind of doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door was unlocked and opened by a short lady who was wearing a black dress and blouse. She ushered them inside.
John looked around. He was standing in a huge, cathedral-like room. The high ceiling had a giagantic chandelier hanging in the centre. The floor was layed with little black and white diamond-shaped tiles. At the end of the hall, a huge wooden staircase led up to the second story, which was a balcony that ran along the back, left and right wall. Light streamed in through a giaganitc window on the back wall, which was the only light sorce along with the chandelier.
John felt like a tiny ant in a cave. It felt so cold and empty. He reached out and took the nurses hand.
She crouched down in front of him and ruffled his hair. "John," she said. "This is your new home. Your parents have gone away for a while, and you're going to stay here. It might take a while to adjust, but soon you'll make lots of new friends."
John frowned. He didn't want new friends. He wanted to sit on his mother's lap while she read stories. He wanted to sit on his father's shoulders, where he could see far and wide.
The nurse talked in a hushed voice with the lady who opened to the door. They exchanged papers, then the nurse gave John a hug and left, leaving John's belongings with the lady.
"Well, now," said the lady in the black dress and blouse. "John, My name is Sister Abigail, but you must address me as 'Madame'. I'm going to be taking care of you now. I think you'll find this place quite enjoyable, as long as you do as you're told. Now, you'll be in room 21B, along with another boy. Come along, gather your things. Quickly! Supper is nearly ready, you have time to unpack. Got your things? Follow me, then."
John picked up his backpack and followed Sister Abigail up the stairs. They went along the right balcony to the very end. The last door had a small plate saying 21B on it.
"This is your room," said Sister Abigail. "Unpack your things, and when you hear the bell ringing, follow the other children to the dining room. Quickly, now!"
John turned and pushed the door open.
The room contained two beds, a small bedside chest of drawers next to each, and two wardrobes in the corners near the door. One of the beds was already occupied by a small boy.
"Ah ... ahem." John cleared his throat. The boy looked around.
He had a mop of curly black hair on his head, and piercing blue eyes. He was sitting upright on his bed, wrapped in a big white sheet.
"I - I'm John. What's your name?" John stuttered.
The boy remained silent, simply staring at John. John bit his lip, looking at the ground. He awkwardly put his bag on the bed and began to take his belongings out. Just when he thought the boy couldn't talk, a clear voice said "My name is Sherlock."
John turned and faced the boy. "Sherlock? That ... that's an interesting name."
Sherlock didn't answer. After a long silence, John shyly looked up at him.
"Maybe ... maybe we could be friends? I haven't got any, you see."
Sherlock stared at him. After another long silence, John turned back to his backpack. He was just about to put his clothes away when a loud bell began ringing from downstairs. He turned to look at Sherlock, but the boy had already disappeared out the door.
John sighed.
He wanted his parents back.