Okay, so I know it was supposed to be one chapter and that's it /but/ I know there's a history behind the violin. I'm here to write out that history. (or at least write what I believe is the history of it.) This chapter will most likely just be me taking out my rage and sorrow on you people. I'm so sorry.
How it all began...
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"Sherlock, Mycroft!" My father called as he came in the door.
"Coming father!" Mycroft yelled from his bedroom across the hall from mine. I was in my bathroom expiramenting with mold. "Sherlock? You coming?" Mycroft poked his head into the bathroom. "Oh do quit it, brother. Father must have something for us."
"Obviously." I said. I may as well go. I rose from my place on my knees in front of my shower, following Mycroft downstairs.
"Hello boys. How are you today?" My father asked us.
"Fine."
"Bored."
"You're always bored Sherlock." Mycroft said.
"Well, he won't be for long." My father took two wrapped packages from behind his back. One blue, the other silver. The blue one was obviously mine, the silver one was too thin and long to be anything I'd want. Unless it's a sword... but I got over the pirate thing ages ago. "Since you boys are now eleven and eighteen, I figured I'd get you something."
"What's so special about eleven and eighteen?" I asked.
"Nothing. Just wanted you to have these and the author needed to let the reader know how old you are, son." :P
"Oh. Okay. Hi reader!"
"UGH Back to the story please." Mycroft shouted.
"Fine. Here."
I was right of course. The blue package was mine. I ripped at the paper and tore open the box, as Mycroft did the same.
"A VIOLIN?! THANK YOU FATHER!"
"WHAT THE FUCK? I ALREADY HAVE AN UMBRELLA!"
THANK YOU. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Basically, the violin was a gift from Sherlock's father and so he's hesitant to part with it.