CHAPTER 2 – An Edelweiss For Bravery
The glass case was slowly cracking but John kept sandbagging up his emotions. Each day was shorter but darker and there were always storm clouds above his head. His friends had suggested a therapist, a psychologist, a counsellor, but he refused them all. As John walked home from a visit to the old park, he saw Christmas decorations being placed in windows and the smiling faces of boys and girls as they threw baubles at each other and played with tinsel like it was ribbon. "Humbug, Christmas is just a scam for money and only truly important to anyone who is religious," he snarled as the dazzling lights lit up Baker Street. Mrs Hudson had placed a bright wreath on the door off 221B Baker Street and its decorations of mistletoe and baubles almost made him hate Christmas altogether.
John sank into his old chair and closed his eyes as he heard drunken men and women shouting and laughing in nearby streets and houses. He felt empty and alone as he felt himself falling and losing connection with reality as he imagined his friend home and alive again. John jumped out of his chair, ran downstairs and slammed the door behind him. "I can live without his constant nagging and mumbling and I can live without his stupid deductions and cases," he repeated until he found himself stumbling into the graveyard at the back of the church and started to sob as he knelt at his friend's grave. His tears fell onto the green grass and were soaked by the already damp ground. "Oh, come on Sherlock, you stupid idiot. You can't be dead, you're smarter than that and you would never let your pride give in to a fool like Jim Moriarty."
John's black leather shoes sank ever so slightly into the damp earth of the graveyard. The wind was harsh against his cheeks and the icy prickles bombarded his face. John pulled his turtleneck jumper over half his face and gently pulled the small bundle of flowers under his cloak. Although John realised that Sherlock may not think of what his favourite flower was, John researched and realised that since Edelweiss meant daring, nobility and courage, that it would be very fitting for his old friend. The white flowers were just in bloom and their star shaped petals let off a faint scent into the cold dusk air. As he reached the black gravestone, John paused and stiffened as he saw another bouquet of flowers already placed at the foot of the stone. His knees creaked as he bent to examine the paper not attached. There was nothing but a bright red lipstick stain and the small signature of Molly Hooper. Her position now must be one of pure anguish as her heart was constantly ripped from her whenever she had met her love, Sherlock Holmes. John choked back the tears as he realised he was not the only one who admired, hated, and needed this great genius and mastermind.
The dim light from the window pressed its rays onto the wilting flowers on the table and onto the dying condition of the love that once made this room alive with memories, thoughts and ideas. The floorboards creaked as John threw his coat over the backs of one of the dining room chairs and as his hands felt the cold of the fridge handle he paused and imagined the cold spreading through his whole body till he could no longer feel. So he could not feel this pain and this heartache of a loss that could never be healed. His cheeks became damp with the salty tears of suffering and as he walked back through the lounge, John tried remember how many times he had tried to picture Sherlock reprimanding him for not seeing the important things but also giving him the smirk as if to say," Thankyou, John. You are fantastic." The dreams came again that night, the jet-black demons wrapping themselves around Sherlock's writhing body as it fell. The shrieking of the un-dead souls that wrapped Sherlock's body as it made contact with the creamy white pavement at the bottom. The blood, as red as rubies, blocking John's vision and making him awake, sweating and trapped in a twisted mass of sheets. John lay in silent defeat and let the glass case slowly crack and let the emotions and pain that he had locked up slowly flood over him and eventually rock him into a finally dreamless sleep.