Chapter One:
Charmayne stumbled down the heavily populated London streets in a dazed fashion. She had been far too exhausted and hungry to even process the masses of bodies that push and walked by her. She desperately wanted something to eat, especially after being starved for the past week.
Charmayne crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her body trembling as she passed several stories that smelled of delicious, juicy, mouthwatering foods. Charmayne let out a small groan as her stomach rumbles loudly again.
She needed to eat something. Charmayne began to scan the streets, all the small shops as restaurants were either full, or had people crowding near the entrances. Charmayne wasn't stupid, or crazy enough to go to there. So, she continued to look, biting the inside of her cheek, and twisting her arms tighter whenever she passed a shop she wasn't able to go in.
Charmayne smelled a pastries, and gave out a sigh. She followed the scent to a rather tall building, which she verified as an apartment building after processing it for a second. There were two people outside talking and Charmayne could've jumped for joy.
Stealthily, she snuck into the house as the woman and man continued to talk outside the apartments. Not daring to glance back, Charmayne entered the main hall.
It took her a second to process the room. It was small, there was a brown cabinet near the side, and a coat rack. A staircase leading to upstairs sat in the corner, and a small table with a floor length brown tablecloth was against the wall a few feet in front of her. On top of the table was a plate full of steaming scones fresh from the oven.
Charmayne's mouth watered as she ran over, snatching the scone as if her life depended on it, and shoved it in her mouth messily. Crumbs fell all over the floor, but she hardly cared. She finished the first in seconds and started on the next. By the time she was on her fourth, she heard footsteps from the stairs.
Charmayne was hardly thinking as she dove under the small table hiding beneath the long tablecloth. Her heart pounded as she heard a man step onto the wood flooring. Someone else must've heard too, because another man called out. "Hurry up, Sherlock! She hasn't got all day!"
"I'm coming!" The man inside replied. He stepped over to grab something near the coat rack, then paused. Everything was silent and Charmayne could only hear the blood pounding in her ears. She placed a hand over her mouth to keep from breathing loudly.
Charmayne stared as a dark shadow came over the curtain, and two fingers reached near the bottom. Tears jumped in her eyes as the man slowly moved the tablecloth and—
"Sherlock! Come on," The man from earlier snapped, making Charmayne jump. Her head hit the top or the table, causing a few dishes to clatter. The room was silent again and Charmayne began to tremble, she was dead, dead, dead. Dead, she was. Was she dead? She was dead.
"What...Was that?" The other man asked slowly.
"That's what I'm trying to find out," Sherlock grumbled, and quickly lifted the tablecloth. Charmayne was already crying and shaking underneath the table. The scone lied at her feet, discarded helplessly. She didn't look up past her knees as the men spoke again.
"What was it?"
"A child. Homeless, probably starving. I'll phone child services," the first man said, making a small grunt as he stood.
The other man came over to see, and sighed. "Why... Don't you come out from under there, love," John spoke softly, Charmayne sniffed, but didn't move. "Aren't you just hungry? I'll grab you more food if you come out." Charmayne slowly looked up. The man before her smiled. He had blue eyes and extremely light blond hair. He extended a tanned hand to her, and Charmayne recoiled.
"Hello, there is a child in our flat stealing scones," the first man said. "Supposedly homeless, but might have ran away. Will you come get her?" He paused, "221 Baker Street, my number is—" it took Charmayne a second to understand what he was doing, but as soon as she did, she ran.
Charmayne crawled out from underneath the table, and ran at he man who was standing, with a cellphone to his ear. He looked at her and rose an eyebrow, but Charmayne was at his side, pulling on his shirt. "No, no no! No, no! No! No, no, no! N–No, no, no, no, no!" She begged, clinging to his shirt.
The man made an annoyed look and rolled his eyes, "Tomorrow? That is fine. Is that all? Yes, okay." He hung up, and then pried her off him.
Charmayne stood there for a second, staring at him before tears began to blur her eyes. She fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. She was going to go back to them, she didn't want to go back to them!
A hand touched her shoulder, and she jolted, scrambling to get away. "Oh, sweetheart, what's the matter?" A older woman's voice spoke. She looked at her, not having the strength to process her code. "C'mere, dear, let's get you cleaned up," The woman sent out what looked like a hand, and Charmayne hesitantly took it.
The woman lead her through a... Door, leading into another room. Charmayne didn't bother to figure out the code of the rest, as they entered what seemed like a bathroom.
Charmayne rubbed her cheeks, and tried to process where she was. There was a toilet and a tub beside it. On the other side was a porcelain sink with a mirror above. "Wash your face now, and then we'll figure out what to do with you," the woman gave her a smile and a pat on the shoulders, before turning to leave.
Charmayne stared at her reflection, watching as tears grew in her own eyes. She remembered the man calling child services earlier and couldn't help herself as she began to cry again.
•️️️️•
Charmayne stepped out of the bathroom, and carefully walked down the hall. She looked around for any signs of exits, but sighed when she saw nothing of the sort. In the main hall sat the three adults at the small table. The one with the really light blond hair was in the middle of speaking, "... Away, maybe her parents are worried for her."
"Or, she is most likely an orphan, and somehow ended up on the streets instead of in a home," the other one said.
"Well, we should take care of her," the older woman spoke sharply. "At least until services come. John have you got anything something she can wear? An old college shirt will do. John, what's the time? I'll be late for my plane if we don't hurry."
"It's six past one, your flight is at three, right? We'll call another cabbie. And I should have some clothes upstairs," the other man, John replied.
"You two are talking like she is going to stay here," the first man said, almost annoyed.
"Well, she might have to if we can't find her a home," John snapped with a bit of irritation.
"She's been in that bathroom for an awfully long time," the older woman mumbled. Charmayne let out a small gasp, looking around. She found a cabinet near the floor and quickly closed herself in. The cabinet shut a bit louder than she would've liked, and succeeded in catching the woman's attention.
"Wha...?" She stepped over, and opened the cabinet. Charmayne pressed her face in her knees, shaking as the woman let out a laugh. "What are you doing in there? Come on out love, I'm not gonna bite you," the woman gave a smile as Charmayne hesitantly came out of the cabinet.
The woman led her to the other room, and patted a seat down. Charmayne processed it first, just in case it was a trick, however it was just a simple wooden chair. Gingerly, she sat and the blond man spoke again, "Hello, I'm John Watson, that's Sherlock over there, and the lovely woman here is Ms. Hudson." Charmayne slowly nodded, keeping her eyes on her feet, as he mindless swing them back and forth. She memorized the code of her far-past worn out shoes. "Would you mind telling us your name, love?"
Her voice was barely a murmur as she spoke, "Charmayne..." John heard her, probably because he was the closest to her.
"Charmayne. That's a beautiful name." Charmayne didn't look up, but she began to swing her feet a little faster. "What's your last name, dear?" Charmayne shook her head, her long dreads curling her face, and John frowned, "Sorry? You don't... Know?" Charmayne bit the inside of her cheek, but didn't speak.
"Where did you come from?" Sherlock asked, and Charmayne pointed to the door behind Sherlock. He didn't have to turn to know where she was pointing and rolled his eyes.
"Charmayne," John spoke, turning to the girl. Charmayne looked at him as he spoke, "I understand you may be scared, but this is important. We need to know who you are and where you are from so we can make sure we hand you over to right people."
Charmayne paused, if she didn't reply, he might get angry, and she didn't want him to get angry. Angry people do bad things and it makes them hard to process. The other one, Sherlock, was already cross with her, she didn't want him go be. "Ch... Charmayne Bellet," John nodded, and gave a comforting smile to her, but Sherlock's eyes narrowed.
Charmayne sat a bit straighter and sniffled, "Can I... Can I go now?" She asked carefully.
"Why would you want to leave, dear?" Ms. Hudson asked. Charmayne nearly forgot she was sitting beside her, and tensed. There were too many people here, too much to code, too much to process.
Charmayne shook her head, relapsing back to nonverbal communication. Sherlock sighed, moving from the table, "This is getting boring. I'll be upstairs," he announced, taking long strides up the steps. John didn't bother to call after him, focusing his attention on Charmayne.
"Let's get you some new clothes to wear, alright?" He said, as a smile pinched the ends of his mouth.
Charmayne slowly nodded. "That sounds lovely, John. I'll make some more scones, and some tea, it'll be up soon."
"Thank you, Ms. Hudson," John thanked the woman for her gratuitousness. He motioned towards Charmayne, who slowly move to stand as well. "Come on then," he spoke, in a rather teasing tone, as he motioned for the stairs. Reluctantly, Charmayne followed.