Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 1

Hello everyone! Erica here. I thought I would introduce myself to you all in a lovely little writers bio.

I'm 15 and hail from the majestic United Kingdom, Doncaster to be precise. I have a bit of an obsession with Sherlock, Doctor Who, Marvel, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hiddleston, movies and music. This is my first story so please be nice. I am aware that it's not amazing but I'm no John Green so I wasn't expecting it to be. Anyway, I won't waste anymore time. Also there will be an A/N at the end as well so please stick around to read that as well.

On with the story.....

"We're all going to miss you dear; don't forget to call Aunt Sally and tell her you're ok. You know how she worries." my Mother moaned on and on about how everyone was going to miss me and how I was moving too far away from home. Honestly, I was glad that I was moving so far away from my home town of Brighton. I loved the sea and the saltiness that it left lingering in the cool air and I loved my Mother dearly but what I didn't love was her over-protectiveness, though I suppose you can't blame her. Ever since my Dad was attacked and killed in the street one night she's been on edge. I can't count the times that I've found pepper spray buried in my coat pocket.

"Yes, ok, I'll be fine Mum." I intervened

"Alright," she replied as she climbed back into the rental van, "I guess this is it then. Stay safe, I love you Sarah." tears were threatening to spill from her hazel eyes when she hugged me awkwardly from the drivers seat which was significantly higher than me. I didn't take after my Mother in the eye colour department, I had my Father's constantly changing blue/grey eyes. After watching my Mum turn the corner at the end of the road I rotated to examine the building that contained my new Baker Street flat. It was in a prime location, directly across the road from Speedy's sandwich shop and café. I started my new job there tomorrow. For now I had to unpack and settle in.

I had just finished putting the finishing touches to my living room when I heard the faint, melodic sound of a violin being played. I took a break from my chores to eaves drop, violins had always been one of my favourite sounds. The neighbours downstairs went out three hours ago and had not yet returned so it couldn't be them. It was then that I saw a man standing in the window of the flat opposite mine. He was quite lean, very tall and dressed in a crisp white shirt- top two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to the elbows- and black suit trousers. His hair was dark brown, curly and ruffled as if he'd just gotten out of bed but evidently, from the clothes he was wearing and the fact that it was six o' clock at night, he hadn't. In his left hand, perched on his shoulder under his chin, he had a violin and in his right hand he held the bow. His fingers moved methodically on strings and he guided the bow with expert strokes, the result of this precision was the most beautiful melody I had ever heard but not one I was familiar with. It must have been self-composed. I slowly made my way closer to the window in an attempt to hear the sound more clearly. There was something  about this man, something I could not pin point, that intrigued me. Suddenly the sound of violins stopped and this mysterious man had put down his bow and instrument and was now closer to the window than he was before. His gaze locked with mine and his eyebrows knitted together, with confusion or fascination I could not tell. I needed to find out more about him. The mans head whipped around as another, smaller, male entered the room. It took me one look to figure that this new man was in the military at some point in his life and had an injury on his left shoulder, it's possible that he was wounded in action judging by my guesses. As the small man sat down in a chair, the man I was so interested in sat down in a chair across from him and they engaged in conversation. Going by the way that tiny (as I had nicknamed the small man) had slung his coat across the top of the chair he occupied, he lived in that flat with tall (guess who that is) but what was their relationship? Were they going out or were they simply friends sharing a flat? It was hard to tell with the way they acted around each other. This is what my mind dwelled on for the rest of the night because I had no TV until tomorrow to distract me.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of my alarm screeching from the bed side table. I had to admit that I didn't get much sleep last night. The violin playing stranger across the street kept giving me funny looks as if he was trying to figure something out, that makes two of us. Even as I went bed I couldn't get him out of my mind. Anyway, no time for dilly- dallying. I had to get ready for work although I was in no rush really, the shop was only across the road. After getting changed into a simple outfit that consisted of denim skinny jeans, a white V-necked t-shirt and a tattered pain of white vans; skipping breakfast because it slowed my thinking process (that was the last thing I needed), I locked my flat and headed to my first day at work.

Upon entering the shop I took in my surroundings. It was a quaint place with a red and white theme running throughout. Overall it was rather cosy.

"Hello dear, are you Sarah Cook?" an old woman who looked to be in her sixties asked. I recognised her voice from my phone interview

"Yes I am, you must be Mrs Hudson." I replied politely

"I am. Are you ready to get to work?"

"As I'll ever be!" I had a feeling that I would get along with her just fine.

"Oh good! I'll get Steve to show you the ropes." Mrs Hudson was one of those people that reminds you of your own Grandmother. It was very simple and very boring but it got me the money I needed to buy food and pay my bills so I put up with it.

Hello, me again. Just to let you know that these first few chapters won't be very long because I'm just getting into the swing of things.

Also, if you were looking for action worry not! There's quite a bit of that in the next chapter.