I don't remember how I ended up here. But I'm sitting on one of the seats in a plane which goes to England. I am trying to convince myself that I am not going to England because of sentiment but I need to see it with my own eyes.
I need to see if the greatest detective on earth is really gone. He faked his own death once. But this time it feels real. He didn't jump off of some building. My face wrinkles as I remember the details of the article. It said he died because of brain tumor. It said when he was diagnosed with it, it was already too late and he only had weeks to live.
What an awful way to die for him. For someone who values his brain more than anything. Watching as his brain slowly dies and there's nothing he can do about it. With these thoughts my vision starts to get blurry once again. The tears are threating to escape my eyes. I quickly blink a few times.
I don't want anyone to see I am crying.