My Sherlock Holmes

We were like Sherlock and Watson: the head and the heart, the detective and the doctor. We had adventures together; we learned about each other, but most of all, we learned about ourselves.

For a long time, everything was perfect. We started high school and we grew closer. We were the best of friends and I'd have done anything for her.

I didn't do much outside of school, but Ramona used to go out and see our friends from Junior High or go to the movies with our new friends. To be truthful, they were mostly her friends. I had a few acquaintances. I tried to be social, but I never put much effort into it.

"I'm going to the movies this weekend with Sarah. You want to come?" she asked me one day.

"Can't, watching my nieces and nephews," I said. It was a lie, but I really didn't enjoy being ignored by her when other people were around. I wish I'd had gone though, and spent as much time with her as possible before she was gone.

"I know you're lying," she said, frowning, "Your mom told you this morning this morning they're staying over their dad's house."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sure," she said. She walked away with a piece of my heart chipped of in her hand.

For a few days, things went back to normal. We would walk to all our classes and sit together at lunch, but we didn't talk as much.

Then things began to burn.

She started to change. She idolized people that were dangerous to her. She talked about wanting to do drugs all the time. She began to express a desire to try self-harm, and that turned into thoughts of suicide. I never really took it seriously, because she loved herself too much.

I started making another friend. Her name was Cara. She was very much like me. We enjoyed the same things and had similar interests. We started to talk a bit, and she was always around when Ramona was there. I could sense some hostility directed towards Cara, but Ramona was always a little defensive around people she didn't know well.

One particular instance that was most uncomfortable started to get me worried.

Ramona approached me and Cara at my locker during our free period.

"Aiko," Ramona said interrupting a meaningless conversation, "We need to talk."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Will you come with me?"

"Where? What do you need?"

Ramona shot an annoyed glare at Cara, "Not here."

"Aiko, what's going on?" Cara asked.

"Is it really your business?" Ramona snarled at her. Cara made a disgusted face.

"See you later, Ai," Cara said and she scurried off. She didn't speak to me again until after Ramona was gone.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked again, watching Cara disappear down the hallway.

She struggled for a bit until she walked away without saying word.

We had a few similar encounters after this, but she never told me what she wanted to say. I was confused. Every time I saw her, she looked worse. I tried to get her to tell me what was happening, but she wouldn't. I offered to accompany her to a guidance counselor, but she refused.

I think she knew I would have done whatever I could to help her, but she didn't want me.

The number of our interactions grew less and less. She grew distant. She started making ominous remarks and withdrew farther into herself. It wasn't long before we rarely saw each other, even though we shared all the same classes.

It wasn't until one night in January that I began to know just how serious it all was. Ramona came to my house and we talked for hours about what she was going through. How she thought about dying all the time. How she'd tried drugs and cutting her wrists, but nothing met her need to die.

"You know me better than anyone. I saw you watching me at school trying to catch a look at my wrists. You talked to people, people you've never spoken to before, to see if they knew anything. You were worried"

"Of course I was," I said, "And I still am. Please, please let me help you. You are my best friend!"

"I know. I know you only want to help."

"What can I do?"

"Come with me."

At the time, I thought all we were missing was our villain, our Moriarty, for this to be straight out of the book. Upon reflection, I figured out who it was.

It was society.

She was always so perceptive. She analyzed everything around her. I could have only been a matter of time until she absorbed the evil around her. She and our society were equally matched in strength. She saw it all around her: suicides, drugs, masochism, wanting to be free of the world.

It would destroy her.

Early the next morning, I drove her to a drug rehabilitation center three hours away. She left a letter for her mother, but I don't think the woman would notice she wasn't there. She ignored Ramona and her brother, Anthony, and never really cared for them. Their father was never around. He worked in China with a computer engineering company. He only visited two times a year.

In the car she called her brother. Anthony lived in Los Angeles, so when she called at eight o'clock he was asleep. Anthony was the only family member Ramona loved. He was probably the only person she loved. When he moved to Washington for college she was devastated.

I glanced over to her sitting in the passenger seat. She stared out the window into the rain, a blank, tired stare on her face.

She didn't want to go, but she knew she must. She was getting away from it all, freeing herself from the fight.

She must have hated it.

Ramona had loved adventure. She lived for the rush of adrenaline when she was going to figure it out, the feeling of triumph when she got it right. She loved being above everyone, knowing what they were going to do next.

Now she had no idea. She didn't know what she was going to do. She didn't know what I was going to do.

All we knew was that we were going to be separated for a very long time.

I was sad. I do not know how she felt at the time.

As we pulled up to the front of the building, Ramona looked at me for the first time since we got into the car that morning.

"Will you visit me?" she asked.

"Of course I will, as much as I can."

We got out of the car and I walked her up the front stairs and into the front office.

"Ramona Holmes is here," I told the receptionist.

She handed me some forms which I gave to Ramona to fill out. I sat with her while she completed them.

She attached the pen back to the clipboard and returned it to the receptionist.

"She said they would take me give me a tour soon and a Doctor would meet with me."

I tried to swallow the lump that was growing in my throat.

"You'll do your best to get cleaned up, right?"

"Yes. I'll be out of here before you're nineteen."

"That's only a month away."

"Exactly."

We hugged. A few tears were shed on my part, and then she was gone.

I stoop in the waiting room for ten minutes, trying to clear the tears away from my eyes.

My cellphone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, but it wasn't mine. It was Ramona's.

I answered the call, without looking at the I.D.

"Hello?" I said my voice choked.

"Mona? What the hell is going on?" It was Anthony.

"Anthony! It's Aiko… Mona's friend."

"Aiko? Where is Ramona?"

I couldn't answer.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry. They already took her in. She can't take any calls for the first couple days, but I can give you the phone number."

I hung up and put the phone in my pocket.

I waited a few moments then walked out the front doors. Standing at the top of the stairs, I looked at the trees on the property. They were beautiful at that time of the year.

I don't remember driving home, or much of the rest of that day.

I was in a daze for the next couple of weeks. I kept expecting for Ramona to show up in class or come see me at my locker.

Every time I tried to call her, she was busy. I tried every day and was told she couldn't receive calls at that time.

It had been a month when I decided to go visit her in person. My birthday was the next day.

I drove slowly up the front road to the doors. Other patients were grouped on the grounds. I looked for Ramona, but I couldn't see her.

I parked my car and walked inside. No one was at the front desk. I sat in the chair Ramona sat in when I dropped her off. I waited for twenty minutes then decided to go take a walk outside. I was a beautiful day.

I was walking around the building when I heard sirens. I don't know why I did, but I ran as fast as I could towards them. They were parked at the front of the building, and paramedics were running around the opposite side. I followed.

I stopped cold. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. I ran over to where paramedics were working on someone.

Ramona

I dropped to my knees, too stunned to move or talk. I felt someone trying to pull me away, but I shoved them off.

She was covered in blood. Her head was smashed on the brick walk where she landed.

"She jumped." I said. Then I broke down. I fell on my side and just cried and sobbed. The medics put her on a stretcher and took her away. I watched through my tears as they took her away.

"Miss Watson. Miss Watson?" I heard. I looked up and tried to make out the face above me.

"Yes?"

"I'm Doctor Smith. I was about to call."

I didn't – couldn't – answer him.

"Ramona had been doing very well. I have no - ,"

I stopped him as I got off the ground. I inspected my clothes. They were covered in her blood.

"Where did they take her?"

"Most likely Memorial Hospital, but - ,"

I walked away back to my car.

I took out Ramona's phone and opened her contacts. I called the first one.

"Mona?" the person on the other line asked.

"No, it's Aiko. Anthony…"

"What's wrong?"

"She… Ramona, she's…"

He hung up.

I put Memorial Hospital into my GPS and drove there. It was amazing I managed to to crash my car.

I walked in the emergency room doors and over to the desk.

"Can I help you?" the woman behind the counter asked.

"I don't know where to go," I said.

"What are you looking for," she rolled her eyes at me.

"My… my friend… she,"

"Oh," she said, her eyes widening. "Take a seat. I'll have someone come out to speak to you."

I sat down in the nearest chair and pulled my knees to my chest. I put my head down and zoned out.

Ramona was dead. The thought repeated on and on. More tears escaped.

I don't know how much time passed, but finally a woman came out.

She shook my shoulder until I looked up. She handed me a coffee and I took it gratefully.

I opened my mouth and a strangled noise came out.

"She's dead, isn't she?" I finally said.

"She was killed on contact."

I was quiet so a minute.

"Can I see her?"

The woman nodded and led me to where Ramona was.

My first thought was that she was sleeping. All the blood was gone and her eyes were closed.

The woman said something then left, but I didn't notice.

I ghosted over to my best friend.

"Ramona?"

I wept for my friend. She was gone.

"Don't be dead, please. Please! You are all I have.

"You can do so much! So much talent, potential.

"You said you'd come back. That you'd be with me. You said you'd be home by tomorrow, but you won't will you? You're not coming home."

Absolute silence.

"Just once, for one time in your life, stop being selfish. Don't leave me. Because I need you. I need you to be there for me, because God knows that no one else will.

"I love you. Just suck it up, and come back."

I waited. Waited for her to return.

She wouldn't.

"You really are gone. Of all the impossible things to do, you chose to die."

I walked to the door with my hand on the handle. I was about to leave, but I stopped.

"I love you," I whispered over my shoulder and I left.

In the corridor I fell. I used the door to pull myself back up.

I was disoriented and couldn't walk straight. My vision was blurred and no one was around.

I stumbled around until I found a door. I opened it and fell down four flights of stairs.

I lost consciousness.

When I woke up no one was around. I sat in the bed for a few minutes until a nurse walked in. She checked me over and sent a doctor in.

An hour later I was discharged from the hospital with a minor concussion and some bruising.

I checked my phone and Ramona's phone. Anthony had sent me a text saying that Ramona's funeral was today, but it was scheduled to start and hour before I woke up. I'd been asleep for two days.

I drove slowly to the cemetery where she was buried. A crowd still lingered around her grave. I sat in my car until they'd mostly dispersed.

I looked for her family; Anthony was helping their mother into a limousine.

I kneeled in front of her grave.

"Ramona," I whispered, "you are gone."

I ran my hand down the cool marble stone and traced her name with my finger.

"You told me once that you'd always be there. I told you I'd do whatever I could to help you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry I couldn't help you. But please, please give me another chance. Don't be dead."

Wind answered me – and silence.

I walked away back to my car and drove home.

No one else was there, but all down the street cars were parked. Through the window, I could see many people in Ramona's house.

Inside, my mother had left a note saying she was gone for the weekend.

I was alone.

More weeks passed but it didn't get better. It still hurt to go outside, and I hadn't gone back to school. People tried to call, but I ignored them.

I decided to visit Ramona. It was still early on a Sunday morning when I arrived back at the cemetery.

Her grave was still covered in flowers and pictures.

I sat cross legged looking at it all. These people leaving things never spoke to Ramona. They didn't know her.

I went an hour not saying anything, just remembering my Ramona: the good, the bad, all of it.

We met in the middle of freshman year. I moved onto Baker Street with my mother after her divorce. My sister decided to stay with my dad.

When I started school, I obviously didn't know anyone. I wasn't in any freshmen classes starting out; I'd already taken those classes.

After school on my third day, I was in the library doing my homework. A boy from one of my math classes – James – came to talk to me. He told me about a girl he thought I would get along well with who needed some help in an experiment.

I went with him to the laboratory she was in. When I walked in, something exploded.

James cleared his throat and she looked over.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"I'm Aiko," I said, "you're Ramona?"

"What do you know about Chemistry?"

"I took it last year. I'm in Advanced Placement now."

Ramona smiled and she explained to me what she was doing.

When we finished the experiment, I offered to drive her home. That's when we realized we were neighbors. I drove her to and from school every day after that. When she got her own car, she still preferred to have me drive her, and I was thrilled.

I'd never had many friends before Ramona. She was the only one who I ever had a connection that went deeper than help with studying.

I shook my head, brushing away the memories and bringing myself back to the grave.

I wiped away my remaining tears and started to get up off the ground. My hand crinkled a piece of paper. I grabbed it and read it.

It was an envelope addressed to me.

I opened it.

"My Dear Aiko," It said,

I'm sorry. As I write this, I can only imagine what your reaction will be when you find out.

Please forgive me.

Thank you for all you've done for me.

You were the best friend anyone could ever have.

My eternal and undying love,

Ramona Holmes

17 October 2011

I slid the letter into my coat pocket.

My right leg hurt, most likely because of the fall.

I went home and I moved on, but I never forgot her. I never will.

Ramona Holmes was one of the most fantastic human being that I'll ever know. She really was my Sherlock. But unlike John's, my will never come back. Mine won't return in some grand magic act. She didn't survive her Moriarty.

To Claire,

"One may brave a world of demons for the sake of an angel."

"Though I am on the side of angels, I'll never fool myself into thinking that I'm one of them."

You are my angel, my Holmes, my best friend.

You are stronger than all of them. You can do anything.

And I'll always be there for you.

All my love,

Rosemary Mulvey