It's been 10 years and the case was still unsolved. Sherlock became bored once again and Lestrade had no choice but to look for a case for him.
⚠️maybe little tw⚠️
I kinda copied and pasted some of this chapter from my other fanfic. Just letting you know so no one comes at me.
I'm a normal 11 year old girl. My name is (y/n) (l/n). My father is sexist, homophobic and racist and also physically abusive to me. My mother died giving birth to me and since then my father blamed me for it.
At the moment, I had my bags packed and I was ready to leave. I wasn't quite sure where I would go but anywhere other than here was fine with me. I had a few bucks that I found in one of the boxes up in the attic. I also found a book that belonged to my mother. It was a mystery, romance type of book.
My father was downstairs, sleeping in front of the tv. I took this as my chance and slowly walked downstairs with my bag. I went to open the front door but it creaked, making him wake up. I opened the door fully and run for my life.
When I thought that I was as far away as possible, I started to walk again, catching my breathe. A black truck pulled up to the side of me.
'You running away from someone, kid'? The guy said. I nodded slowly. The man looked behind him and back at me. 'Get in, I'll help you'.
Being young meant that my brain wasn't fully developed, so I didn't think it was anything bad. So, I took his advise and went at the back. Once he locked the doors, I knew I made the wrong move.
For 10 years, I've been abused, mentally and sexually by this man. As I grew up over the 10 years, it became more clear to me that this man acted different to the other kidnappers. Yes, he would sexually and mentally abuse me but he would also take care of me.
He would give me the essentials I need. He wouldn't tie me up in a room but he would let me roam around his cabin but if he had to leave me alone, he would lock me in. I have tried to escape once but there was no point in that as the cabin was deep in the woods and help was out of reach.
He would never let me do anything other than, read, play my guitar or read. I was a kidnapped girlfriend basically.
My birthday was coming up soon and George, my kidnapper, kissing me and wished me the best every time he would leave and come back. I will be turning 21 years very soon. All my life I had my mother's book to comfort me. I read it over and over and always hoped for a Prince Charming, well, someone like that.
'Hello, kitten', George said when he came in. He was holding something behind his back and sat down in the armchair in front of me. 'Don't I get a "hello" back'? I looked up from my book and forced a smile.
'Hello', I said in almost a whisper. He smiled and leaned in, capturing my lips in his and he breathed in my sent.
'You always smell great'. His hand slipped up my thigh and under my dress. 'I got something for you'. He pulled away and handed me a box. 'Open it'.
I smiled and slowly opened it. Inside was a one piece swim suit, one that would show a lot of skin.
'I thought we can go to the lake sometime to have a swim'.
He leaned in and kissed me, again, his hand went under my dress, reaching for the hem of my underwear.
I just hated my life so much. If I hadn't been the stupid 11 year old girl, I wouldn't have been kidnapped and raped multiple times.
I tried to take my life but I was obviously not successful. I have scars on my wrists but he didn't care.
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