Ending Grief
Chapter 2
The streets of New Delhi were usually filled with people, but as Sherlock Holmes walked back to his flat there wasn't a soul in sight. It didn't frighten him, really. Loneliness wasn't a stranger and it never had been. He only pulled his hood over his head as to not draw attention to himself. White men were often jumped in the part of town that he lived.
His landlord stopped him halfway up the stairs to his flat.
"Rent is tomorrow," he said.
"I'm aware," Sherlock sighed.
The landlord stared down at him.
"And I have the money to pay you," Sherlock responded to his stares.
"Since when do you have money?" the landlord chuckled.
"As of now," Sherlock said and pulled out a wad of rupees from his jacket pocket.
The landlord's eyes widened. Sherlock brushed past him and into his flat.
He put the money inside a small safe that was underneath his bed. The safe was almost to full capacity. Sherlock sat back on his bed and looked up at his cracked, unpainted ceiling. His head and throat were throbbing horribly as he tried to stare calmly at the slow turning ceiling fan above him. Soon it was obvious he was putting off an inevitable outcome– something that he never tried to do. With a shaky hand he reached for his nightstand's drawer, where inside was a small black case. He sighed as he opened it, remembering that he had kept a promise to someone that he would soon be breaking. He broke it the first day he left London.
Inside the black case was a small package of heroine, a syringe, and a rubber band. He took off his jacket and wrapped the rubber band around his upper arm. It alarmed him how shaky his hands were– would it be safe to try and measure the correct dosage? In all honesty he didn't care what "safe" was anymore. Sometimes the anticipation of dying is better than the anticipation of waiting, he thought to himself and he placed his equipment beside the stove.
The crystallized heroine cooked rapidly on the spoon that Sherlock placed it on. The smell sent a wave of anxiety and pain through Sherlock's body. He carefully reached or his syringe and placed it over the spoon. It drank up the liquefied drug like a man dying of thirst.
He sat in his usual seat and placed the needle in his arm. He sighed as it punctured him– even small amounts of pain were soothing. The drug burned as it entered his system, and it wasn't long before Sherlock's mind reacted. He sat still for a long time allowing it to take full affect.
For the first thirty minutes, Sherlock just stared across the room looking towards the door as if he was waiting for someone to come in. He wanted rescuing. He wanted Someone to drain the poison from his veins.
But no one ever came.
Sherlock felt his heart racing. Why was nobody there? What had he done to make people desert him? He stood breathlessly and walked toward the door. It seemed like the walk was endless. Finally, he felt the cold of the door handle before he even saw it. Was it even there? He looked down and chuckled happily to himself when he saw his hand wrapped tightly around the handle.
He began to open the door, but when he heard voices outside he quickly closed it. He hoped– for a short second– that it was Someone coming to save him. But even with the drug clouding his mind he realized the illogic of his thoughts.
"You wont see him again," Sherlock said calmly to himself. "You cannot see him again."
A wave of anxiety filled him again. He attempted to calm his mind.
"In fifteen more minutes you'll feel nothing but euphoria," he said. "Calm down. Don't think of things you cannot change."
He sat on his bed and stared at the door again. He tried to imagine Someone walking through it and seeing him. They would be happy to see him. They would hug him tightly and get the poison out. Then, perhaps, Sherlock would never have to take the poison again. He could keep living like he used to.
The thoughts calmed Sherlock's mind. He laid down and let the feeling of softness and calmness fill his panicked mind.
He slowly fell asleep. Dreaming of Someone who could save him– the only person who could save him.