This chapter is quite short. Sorry. Anyway, have fun reading :)
Saturday 12:58 am
John's legs ached. Large drops of rain made his hair stick to his face and the tips of his fingers were numb. The dim orange street lights barley lit up the pavement in front of him. 'Come on Sherlock. Where are you,' John thought. He had been walking for hours and he was exhausted. He glanced down at his watch and groaned when he saw how late it was. John's mouth burst open and he let out a gigantic yawn. It was at that moment John decided to go home. He would continue his search tomorrow. Besides, Sherlock might turn up during the night. At least, that's what John wished would happen. John's feet dragged across the wet ground, soaking the hems of his jeans. Suddenly, John remembered that Sherlock would often hang around in an alley way to meet up with his homeless network. John let an exited smirk grow on his face and he turned and sprinted towards the alley. He had an odd feeling that Sherlock would be there. He took a left turn into the graveyard. The graveyard was a shortcut to the alley way if John correctly recalled. John slowed down as his breaths began to get sharp and short. He ended up walking very slowly, trying to catch his breath again. John's eyes scanned over the names on the headstones but his mind barley registered them. That is until he came across one name that made his whole body tremble. A black, polished gravestone stood before him and on it read: Sherlock Holmes.