You And I Against The World: Part II

Chapter 1: How many cases?

"So..."

"So..?"

"So. You did it didn't you." I ask her, but it was more of a rhetorical question.

"What!? I came to you so that you would help me find the culprit! Why would I come to you and ask you to find out who killed my sister if I'm the one who did it!?"

"Maybe guilt, maybe idiocy. Who knows! But you did kill her. It's quite obvious. And no, just because you came to me before the police did doesn't make you innocent, and if that was your plan, to come to me and make me believe that you're innocent, then you're definitely an eejit. Because that is the worst possible idea you could have. If anything, you should have ran. Ran as far and as fast as you possibly could. And never come back. Because now you're here. And the police is outside. And you're not going anywhere, other than prison."

"W-well even if I did! What's your proof? You know nothing!"

"Mm... You see. That's where you're wrong again! My proof is the fact that I know exactly where you hid your sister's body, how you hid her, why you hid her. And why you killed her."

"H-how did you-"

"Simple, really! You killed her because she tried to get you into rehab. Since your mother died you've been addicted to drugs, I can tell by your reddish eyes and poor muscle coordination and delayed reaction time, which I deduced when I threw that piece of paper at you 'accidentally'. But that's not all, she also started taking possession of your mother's objects, but you didn't want that, you wanted everything to stay as it was because you still couldn't get over the fact that she's gone. And one day, she finally 'pushed you too far'. She had took the family photos. The family photos that were oh so precious to you. But she also booked you into rehab without your consent. So, you got into a fight. You grabbed the letter opener that your mother kept on her desk and you pinned your sister to the wall and repeatedly stabbed her in the forehead, blood splatters on the wall. After that, you had noticed what you had done. So you dragged her out of your mother's house and down to the lake you would go to with her when you were children. And you buried her under your cabin that you made with your parents. You then cleaned the house and threw the letter opener into the lake. But you were to high to give a fuck about the fact that you had just killed the last remaining member of your family, when all she wanted to do was help you! Then, you came to me. And that was your fatal mistake. Oh and by the way, you can deny this as much as you want. But there is a search party down at the lake right now, as we speak!"

"H-how... I'm so sorry Denise..."

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After the arrest of Aloïse Anar, I returned to my flat at 221B Baker Street. When I get in, I'm greeted by Mrs Hudson carrying a tray of tea.

"Perfect timing Sherlock! Come and join John and I upstairs for a nice cuppa tea."

"Sound lovely Mrs Hudson."

We make our way upstairs and I see John in his leather chair reading a news paper. The cover of it reads "Breaking news: The Manchester suicide might not be a simple suicide after all." Wow... They're only just catching onto that. Mrs Hudson places the tray on the coffee table and pours three cups of tea and then sits down on the sofa. But before I sit down and join them, I head to the kitchen and fill a small jug of water and then water my Lycoris radiatas. They've grown a lot since I first bought them. I put the jug down next to the big flower pot and sit down in my chair and start drinking my tea. I both love and hate the burning sensation on my tongue from the scolding drink. It makes me feel alive, but it's also quite painful.