Entry 6
7/1 05:00
Mycroft is coming today. If I had bad days, then the days that he comes to visit would be bad days. They give you lessons off, 'so that you can spend more time with your families' and also so that Mycroft can kill me. Not really kill me. You know what I mean. Of course I know what I mean. This is stupid. I am stupid. The only problem is, my older brother is not. You won't believe how many times I've tried to avoid seeing him. Yes I will, because it's me that's been avoiding him- This is starting to become even more stupid. Oh, how I hate myself.
Today, I resort to desperate measures. I am going to hide. In a rather obvious place. But that's the beauty of it. I don't think he'll look for me somewhere like that. But Mycroft is very unpredictable and unreadable.
I'd received a letter a few days before, telling me that he was coming, here:

Sherlock,

I'm coming the seventh of February at 8 O'clock. Meet me in the East Wing reception area. If you're not there, I'll have you put into detention for a week.

Mycroft.

Short, and to the point. Fail to turn up, and you can't go out into the labs at night, because you'll be locked in the detention block, where they have no magnetic door locks fitted. I will have to do something about this at some point. And the thing is, Mycroft really can do all of this to me. He was here before me, and apparently, all of the teachers loved him. He was the ideal. The role model student. It's always 'Why can't you be like your brother Sherlock?' 'Mycroft was the most talented pupil that I've ever had. It's a terrible shame that you don't take after him.' Why can't they just leave it? I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE MY BROTHER. I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE ANY STUPID HUMAN ON THIS GODFORSAKEN PLANET.
Mycroft: Junior prefect, Monitor, Prefect, Senior prefect, head boy. School council 6 years running. Mummy's ickle babykins. Daddy's perfect son.
Sherlock: Worthless idiot.
He came here, fully paid for by my parents, all rights, luxuries and holidays included. Then they decided to get themselves killed. 'I know! Let's leave Mycroft to become the great person that he was always going to be, and let's leave Sherlock to rot.' I only got in here because Mycroft made me. I hate Mycroft. I don't want to be here. I want to run away from everyone and everything and build a rocket and die in space. No-one would ever find my body. No-one would even care. And that's how I want it. I want to be on my own. I don't need anything, or anyone. I don't have to live with something that I hate.

I left by my usual route. Winston was awake when I left. He knows how I get out. There have often been mornings when he's watched me leave, but with every passing week, it has been more and more frequent. He clearly hasn't slept. Bags under his eyes, he's slower that usual. He even dropped 3 marks in our last Physics test. He's never done that before. His hair is unwashed, his cloths creased and dirty. Sometimes when I go to bed, He is just sitting there on his own bed opposite me, staring out of the window. His eyes red from crying. His father is in the army. My initial thought was that his father was missing. This has happened several times before, but he's never been apparently distressed for more than a a day or two. It's been almost a week now. I'm going to check his post tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll find an answer there. It was easy enough to climb out of the common room window. There is a line of dormitory window ledges, and a handy chestnut tree at the corner of the building. The curtains of the rooms are always shut this early in the morning, so it is not particularly difficult to work my way along the ledge. The foliage of trees, too spindly to climb down, yet bushy enough to provide cover, offer perfect protection, especially on a cloudless night. They would also break my fall. I'm fifteen metres up; third floor.I was soon on the ground, and in the leafy cover of the bushes. The temperature was around -5 degrees, but my trench coat, though rather worn, is of good quality and saw to that. I shifted my back pack across my shoulders. The heavy coil of rope was digging in uncomfortably. I crept around the building, bent low behind the bushes, my side pressed hard against the cold stone wall, counting the windows above me. I occurred to me again that this was a very stupid idea. I glanced upwards. I could see the light on in the bathrooms. It doesn't have blinds, and the cleaners come in about this time. I checked my digital watch. The numbers flashed in the darkness. 3:45. This was the time that they took their break. All I had to do was to wait for one of them to open the window. They always do this before they leave. They're not allowed the heating on, and so they use any night time breeze to dry it. The latch clacked above me, followed by footsteps, and the crashing of the bathroom door as it shut. I waited. It takes two minutes for the motion sensor to turn out the lights. I stood there, back against the wall, watching the square of light that the open window cast through the trees. Any second now...
A twig snapped somewhere behind me. I froze, then spun round. The ridiculous fear that it was Mycroft coursed through my veins. But too late. The light flickered off. I could here footsteps, fading into the distance. If it hadn't been for the faint crackling of the bracken beneath their feet, I would not have known that they had been there at all. Even Mycroft could not thread that lightly. It had to be someone small, slight. None of the boys could have managed it. That was when it hit me. Madeline Forster. The girl that Miss. Rushworth brought back. If someone had broken onto the school property, which is very unlikely as it is, I would have known. It had to be her. Fighting the instinctive urge to trace her,I turned my thought back to the task at hand. I retrieved the rope from my bag, and made sure that the rope was secured to the metal hook that I had made from twisted tin cans. Weak by themselves, but together, as strong as I needed them to be. I'd used eiderdown from the inside of my blanket so that it didn't clash against the wall if I missed. I needn't have worried. My aim was true, and the hook and rope flew through the open window, and bounced soundlessly on the floor at the other side. I pulled the rope next to me, testing it's strength. Hoisting my rucksack on again, I began to climb. I pulled my self in through the second floor window, and pulled the rope up after me. The bathroom would now be automatically locked from the outside until 9:30. All I had to do was hide the rope in the storage cupboard. The only people that checked in there were the cleaners, and they had finished for the night. This was the only safe hiding place in the room. All I had to do was tell Mycroft that I needed the toilet. I'd done this before, and run off out of the building. When he found me later, I told him that I'd been going to the toilets in the gallery building. He of course, didn't believe me, and now always makes sure that I use the one that I'm in now. The toilets above the East wing reception area. This shouldn't be a problem today. And now all I do Is wait. I made Winston promise that he'd come and unlock the door. And he's pulling the rope back in for me, and re hiding it. Cheating really, but it doesn't matter. He can't come down until half six, so I've got a, or rather had a bit of a wait.I can hear him coming down the passageway now.