Guess what everyone! I have this new chapter for you. It has taken me three times to write this, so I hope you enjoy it. See ya.
John stood on top of Saint Bart's, watching the dark clouds pass slowly. He brought the bottle in his hands to his lips and let the bitter liquid slide down his throat. He was daring the sky to rain down on London; it would make his day perfect. "I can't do this anymore," he told the air around him. "I can't go on knowing that I'm the only person that remembers you. I don't want to; I want to live a normal life where I'm not the insane one. I want you back but if you were never here than I want to forget about you." He let out a laugh but it turned in to a strangled sob. He covered his mouth to stop the horrible sound from coming out.
"I think it would be easier too, even if you were real, to just forget about you. I can't deal with the pain you've caused me when you jumped off this building," he admitted. "I go to sleep every night with that on replay. I can't get it out of my mind and it has to stop. Sherlock, you have to go."
The door behind him opened making him turn to look at who was intruding on his private talk. It was Molly; she looked timid as she stepped closer to John. "Are you okay?" she questioned with a small smile.
John tried to give her a smile but he couldn't hold it. "I'm not going to jump if that's what you're wondering," he told her. "The names John by the way." He knew she didn't recognize him, if she did she would have said his name.
"Hi John," she said, "I'm Molly." She glanced to the bottle in John's hands before looking back up to his face. "If you don't mind me asking, why you are up here?"
John licked his lips and turned back to the view of the sky "I was just saying good bye to an old friend," he told her. He wiped a few tears from his face.
Molly stood by his side and looked up. "Did he die here?" she asked.
"Sort of," John let out. He took another gulp of his drink, finishing it off, and dropped it to his feet.
She reached out to touch his arm. John flinched away from her fingers. "Why do you have to say good bye?" she asked.
John nodded; he shut his eyes and imagined himself in Sherlock's shoes, standing on the edge about to jump. It made his chest ache with so much pain. "I have to," he told her. "If I don't I won't make it much longer. I have to forget him, because everyone else did. I can't keep carrying him with me everywhere I go."
Molly nodded. "I understand," she told him. "It seems like everyone has already forgot my dad. He only died a few months ago, but it seems like he was never around."
"Have you ever heard of the name Sherlock Holmes?" he asked. He wasn't sure why he asked the question, it was stupid of him to assume that she would have.
"No," Molly answered.
"That's my friend's name," John told her. He pointed to the edge of the building. "He killed himself by jumping off this building. I talked to him before he jumped, even watched him fall to the ground." He shook his head and rubbed his nose. "He was a good man. He really was, not many people liked him. I lived with him for goodness sake; I got the worse end of it all. He made me angry, happy, sad, confused, and he made me human again. I couldn't have asked for a better person to do it either. I told everyone I know that I would never forget him but I have to go against my word."
"How?" Molly asked. "He seemed to be something big in your life, how can you forget such a man?"
John turned to look her in the eye. "I'm going to wake up every morning telling myself that it was all a dream until I start believing it," he stated. "It's simple really, my therapist will be happy to hear that I decided he wasn't real."
Molly swallowed and stared at him for a second. She thought about what he said. John started walking away. "Was he real?" she inquired.
John paused to turn on his heel. He smiled at her and tilted his head to the side. "Was who real?" he asked.
The clouds finally busted and let out the rain they were holding back all day. Molly looked up once as the drops started hitting her head. She looked back down at the man and saw that he was walking away. She wanted to reach out to him, grasp him by the hand and tell him it was okay but she didn't because she understood. She could tell that he was broken. John lost something special the day Sherlock took his life, she understood that. She wished with all her heart that he could fix himself, so he didn't have to erase someone from his mind so he could move on. She wanted him to live in peace.
She bent down and picked up his empty bottle he left behind. She walked over to the edge of the building and looked to the ground. She saw John exit the building and enter a dark car. She smiled and walked back to the door. She told herself that she was going to visit her dad's gave later on that day for the first time since his funeral.
I know, I know, it's shorter than usual. I couldn't really think of what to put in here but I wanted to show you how desperate John really was. I don't have to explain to you what John wants; he said it plenty of times in this chapter. I also had to add Molly in there. I also didn't want to put too much in there because I was afraid of ruining it. I'm really bad at writing things like this I guess. Well, if you liked it please leave a review, even if you didn't. Anyway, I should get going. BYE!