Sherlock was sitting in his usual spot in his chair. Obviously in his mind palace ignoring every word I was saying to him.
"Sherlock I am going out to get some bloody milk again"
Sherlock has clearly used the milk to do one of his crazy experiments and left a mess all over the kitchen table.
"I'll be back in a hour, don't go blowing up the place while I'm gone."
Sherlock still not moving or even showing any signs he herd a word I said just kept sitting there with his eyes shut. God I could kill that man some days, he always uses me and I don't even get a simple goodbye in return.
I slammed the door and left the flat hoping that might snap the great detective back into Reality. It was a late winters afternoon and I noticed not many cars were out on the streets. It was a short walk to the grocery store so I passed on taking a cab. It was starting to look like it might snow so I decided to take the short cut through an alleyway.
I didn't hear the man walk up behind me but before I could grab my gun a sharp pain pinch my neck. I tried to scream for help but the drugs were already taking affect and I soon fell back into the kidnappers arms into a deep unconsciousness.