Aged 16 Years old
She was… Extraordinary.
I swear I have never seen someone quite like her. Her face was infinitely the most beautiful I had ever come across. There was little to describe her but absolutely amazing. She danced happily on the street without her shoes on, her beautiful red dress and dark red hair that was swept up from her porcelain face. Her scarf fell freely from her pocket and her coat flapped happily around the calves of her legs.
She spun around the lamppost, completely absorbed in her own little world. Laughing away at whatever had caught her fancy. She crashed into me as I watched her.
"Oops," She giggled. "Sorry,"
I helped her up. "No, sorry, it's my fault. I was… I was…"
She grinned. "Admiring me, were you sir?" She did a little curtsy.
"Umm…"
"You were weren't you?" She grinned. "Well… I wouldn't blame you. I am rather magnificent."
"Umm…"
"Sherlock Holmes right?"
"Umm… yeah… How…"
"Your notes," She pointed at the books I was holding. "It's a curious name isn't it? It's a bit odd."
"It's my name, I never really thought of it like that…" I murmured, growing red.
"Oh look at you getting all embarrassed." She grinned. "Aw, you're so cute,"
I felt my cheeks growing even hotter as her grin grew even wider. "I've been called many things before. Cute isn't one of them,"
"So what do people call you? Usually I mean."
"A fucking know-it-all cunt," I shrugged.
"You don't know everything," She said spinning.
"You'd be surprised." I muttered.
"Go on then," She said as she stopped spinning.
I sighed. "Well, you're younger than me, with size 6 feet. You have a father but no mother. You're father is away for long periods of time leaving you on your own. You have a grandmother but you feel it is unnecessary to stay with her now that you're sixteen. You have at least one sibling, maybe two and you struggle with your eyesight, but can still see. So that must mean you're long sighted. Yet you didn't see me. So I can only assume that you ran into me on purpose. To get me talking. I'm not sure why…"
"You're good. You concluded I had a grandmother, because of the knitted scarf, that I didn't live with her because it hasn't been cleaned in a while, the fact that I have a younger brother who is tall for his age because he splattered ink onto the scarf. My eyesight because specs I have tucked in my jacket and that my mother is dead because I'm wearing her old wedding ring around my finger. Clever. Well done." She spun a little."So, what's my name?" She asked.
"Um… I…" I scratched my neck. "I…"
She grinned, outstretching her arm. "It's Irene. Irene Adler."
Confused I took her hand and kissed it gently. She laughed a little. "Are you stuck in the nineteenth century?" She asked. "We shake hands now, regardless of gender."
I blushed. "I'm sorry. I don't get out that much." I muttered.
"I can see that," She replied. "Wanna come to my house?"
"I can't," I muttered, straightening my books. "I have things to do…"
"No,"
"What?"
"It's not that you 'can't' come. It's the fact that you don't want to come."
"No," I said. "I do, but…"
"But…"
"I'm afraid I can't."
"Yes,"
"What?"
"You're definitely afraid of something," She said. "You're afraid that you'll be punished if you come away with me tonight,"
"Ms Irene," I said. "I just can't."
"Please?" She asked. "It isn't fun on your own."
"What isn't?"
Irene frowned. "Well, life in general. But I like you Sherlock Holmes. I think you're interesting. Please come with me."
"I don't… Mycroft is coming home from university tonight."
"So? See him tomorrow," She said.
"I can't,"
"Please?" She said. "It'll be fun."
"What will be fun?"
"Come with me and find out," She said, beckoning me with her finger. She took my hand and lead me away into the night.
…
"Have you ever drank before?" She asked holding out a bottle of Morgan Spice Whiskey.
"I used to drink with Marie." I muttered.
"Marie. Your girlfriend?"
"Friend." I replied.
"Anything good?"
"Just wine,"
"Oh that's no good," She bit open the cork and drank heavily. "Here, it's good,"
I took a sip and grimaced at the taste.
"Mm." She said. "Maybe it's an acquired taste."
"Perhaps," I replied, setting the drink down beside me. "Is this where you live?" I asked looking around the dark trailer.
"Yeah, got a problem with it?" She asked.
"How do you get this stuff?" I asked, looking around at the impressive wealth of objects that she owned.
"Bartering," She shrugged. "Anything to get me by. But you're not going to tell anyone aren't you?" She smiled. "Nah… You won't would you?"
She swooped down and kissed me on the cheek, sitting on my lap. Her legs either side of my waist, she fumbled around lazily with my hair. She pulled me into a passionate kiss and I felt my entire world explode into fire. She tossed her hair playfully twisting her fingers around my shirt.
"No!" I muttered, pushing her off. I stood up and began to pace.
"Do you not want me?" She asked, a little insulted.
"No."
"Then what's wrong?"
I sat down. "I've never known someone quite like you. It just feels a little…"
"I thought all men were supposed to be obsessed with sex," Irene said.
"Trust me," I said. "We are. But I barely know you,"
She smiled understandingly. "I guess you're right." She said. "Hold on, I have something that might lighten the mood," She stood up and began dancing away into her bedroom. Feeling stupid, I picked the whiskey and took another swig of it. It was bitter to the taste and burned my tongue. I put it down and wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
Irene bounded back into the room her face curiously happy. She held out a small clear plastic bag in which little white tabs sat at the bottom.
"What's that?" I asked stupidly.
"Oh Sherlock, you really have been living on another world, haven't you?" She sighed. "This is LSD."
"LSD?" I asked. "Drugs?"
"You sound angry,"
I stood up again. "I can tolerate drink, but I can't tolerate drugs,"
"C'mon," She urged.
"No." I straightened up picking up my coat. "I can't. I'm sorry." I turned to leave her trailer park home at the door she called out to me.
"What would your father do if he found out that you were here and not staying at your friend's house?" She called.
I paused staring at the door, my hand closed around the doorknob.
"Then I'll sleep out in the garden," I said flatly.
"Again?" Irene stood up. "Haven't you suffered enough? Isn't it time that you had some fun?"
"Fun is for the weak who cannot find something better to do with their lives." I replied hotly.
"You don't believe that," Irene said. "Do you Sherlock?"
"I do."
"Then why haven't you left?" She asked. "Come back. Sit with me. Be with me. We're both lonely creatures. Let's be lonely together."
I stood staring at my hand. Why wouldn't it open the door? Irene took my hand and kissed it gently. "Come with me Sherlock," She whispered. "Be with me."
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