Sam's pov
I felt sad. Depressed. I didn't know any more words as English is my second language. Shruti, my only friend, died because of my mistakes. I should've died.
The cab ride was silent, only hearing the loud traffic and birds chirping.
My text rings.
"Having fun? I hope so. There's more.
-JM"
"Shut the fuck up. I'll see you in a while. I'll make sure, you feel the pain I'm about to cause even in HELL."
"Scary. Come for me.
-JM"
I abruptly shove my phone in my coat. There was a song that's to be played. I fulfill it and press play.
"Ah, ah ah ah ah, Stayin Alive, Stayin Alive!....."
Really? This song?
Then it goes off-key.
"Meet me at St. Barts rooftop, be alone, make sure to be alone."
Moriarty was correct. There is more.
Sherlock also notices this and whispers in my ear.
"I'll go. You stay at Baker Street."
I give a simple nod.
As Sherlock leaves, I see a figure staring at me. He has an umbrella, though it isn't raining. It's him.
Watson approaches me. "Well, are you better? I hope I can help you get through this." I shush him.
"Watson, I can only describe my situation in 7 words."
"That's too exact. Anyway, what are the words?"
"I always feel like somebody's watching me." I sing quietly.
The man takes a photo of me and runs away.
Better luck next time.
Hey people, this was a short chapter to mourn Shruti, first mentioned in Chapter 1, mentioned in Chapter 14.
RIP
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The Tales of the Golden Girl
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