A/N: So this was my friend's chapter, please no hate! It's a little short, but I read it and it's fantastic! Love y'all!
A black taxi cab takes us to the scene of the crime. As we exit the cab, Sherlock does some sort of jump, and heads straight to the scene. He examines nearly everything in it, making various movements with his hands. John just stands watching, taking notes for his blog. I start to walk over to Sherlock. My curiosity needs to know what he's observing. As soon as John notices where I'm off to, he catches up with me and says, "Don't bother Sherlock while he's working."
Sherlock appears and stares as if he knows exactly what we were talking about, which I'm sure he does.
"I'm finished."
"Well?" John and I say in unison.
"This scene is in fact, both a suicide, and a murder."
"How?" I asked, John looking at me as if I was stealing his job.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"No," everyone in the room answered.
"Looking at this man's corpse I see a hand with no trace of a ring, single. Not only is this man single but he is also a lonely, depressed man, an alcoholic, hence the beer stains on the shirt, and the cases in the fridge. However, if you look around the room you will find many examples of both organized and messy areas. This suggests bipolar personality. To prove this, I simply went to the bedroom where I found two different styles of clothing. This man has both the clothes of a drunken underemployed man, and a formal man, proving the fact that this man is indeed severely bipolar. Since his two personalities are entirely different, it suggests that they would despise each other if found out. In simpler terms, they murdered themselves."
Not believing Sherlock, the police called their record holder to look up the dead man's medical records, only to find medical records telling of the man's severe bipolar disorder, and how both personalities were told of the disorder in different sessions, and each reacted very badly.
Sherlock, now both bored and satisfied, calls a cab and we head back to 221B.
Now in the flat, I decide to ask Sherlock about some peculiar things I noticed, simply to make conversation.
"So," I begin awkwardly, "why the smiley face and the holes in the wall?"
"I get bored, those are bullet holes. If you knew more you would easily be able to see so too, considering that as I look at them right now I can identify that they were .4 ml rounds, fired by a series 23 handgun made in Austria, along with many other guns"
"Right. So, do you do anything else?"
"I play the violin, if that's what your looking for."
"Really? Could you play me something?"
"Sorry, Catherine?"
"Cameron"
"Right. Cameron...isn't that a boys name? Well those silly Americans...I only play when I need to."
"Okay."
"What do you know! Mrs. Hudson's home! Go get the door for her." I leave, knowing he was bored with me. The last thing I hear is him asking John for a new case, and John blabbering on in my defense. Thanks, John. So nice of you, I think.