The Daughter Of Sherlock

Runaway Child

"You little piece of shit!" 

My mother yelled and raised her hand to hit me. She was nice when I was still a young child, but it all changed when I turned eight. She started to drink and abuse me. I'm fourteen now and about to runaway from home. My mother has told me about my father and how he was a genius. How he could tell everything about you in no time.  She also tells me I'm just like him, that I have the ability and I guess I do have it. One time when my uncle came to visit us, I knew everything about him and what has happened. He never came to visit us again, because he thinks I'm a freak. I was eight then and since that my mother has grew her hatred towards me, I think it's because I made the only family she had left, leave.

*Skip to the evening when she runs away*

 I stole my father's cell number from my mother's old diary. I just hope he hasn't changed it. My mother hasn't bought me a phone and she never let me go out. I heard my mother starting to walk around the flat and that means she is going out to bar. This is it then. I heard a door slam closed and I started to back my things into a black and red back bag that has enough space for the things I will need. I had the money I got from my grandparents for birthday and Christmas, clothes, my lady things, my mother's diary and lastly my father's number. I took my back bag and headed to the kitchen. I found a piece of paper and a pen. I started to write a note.

'I'm leaving, mother. I guess you had always wished for it and well, now it's coming true. I can't say I'm sorry for leaving, because I'm not. You made my life a living hell. All you ever did was to yell at me and tell how big of a disappointment I was. I had enough, mother. I know you will not try and look for me, but just in case you do, don't. It won't help, because I'm not coming back no matter what. I hope you live a good life.

From your only daughter, Chiara'

 I left the note at the kitchen table and went for the door.I took a last glance at the flat and let a single tear roll down my cheek.  I turned the door knob and opened it. I took my first step outside the flat for the first time in years. I slammed the door close and started to run. I was on the streets in no time, but I didn't stop running. I was excited and scared for the first time ever. My mother wasn't there to stop me, so I could do what ever I wanted, but the thing is, all I want is to find my father. I ran along the streets untill I found a public phone. I took the diary and the number out of my back bag. I looked for his name in her diary, so I would know if it is his number. Yes, I found it!  I called the number.

Ring 

Ring

Ring

"Hello." 

I heard a male voice say. I was scared. I wanted to end the call and just run, but I couldn't. I needed to do this and I'm not going to be a coward and runaway from this now.

"Hello. Is this Sherlock Holmes?"

I asked. I was suprised that my voice didn't break.

"No. This is his friend, John Watson."

He said.

"I don't have friends!"

Was heard in the background.

"That was him."

The man on the other side of the phone said. I chuckled.

"Umm... I'm Chiara. I umm... I need to meet him."

I said. My voice went fast from happy and joyful to scared.

"What's wrong, Chiara?"

He was worried. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. 

"Nothing. Why are you worried?"

I asked confused, but still unsure about my feelings.

"You sounded scared."

He said in a worried tone and told in the another line something like this

"Sherlock! You should come here!"

But I'm not exactly sure what he said.

"Hello... Who is this?"

He said without any emotion in his voice, only a little bit irritation evident in his voice.

"Hey... Umm... This is Chiara and I was supposed to meet you tomorrow at...? Umm... In front of Big Ben?"

My voice was kinda shaky, butI don't think he noticed by the way he was acting or what I heard from the phone.

"How so? I haven't made a meeting with anyone for tomorrow."

He said. I don't know what I am supposed to say now, so I did what I do best, panic.

"I'm your-!"

Just before I could say it to the end, I stopped myself.

"You're my...?"

He wanted me to continue what I was saying, but instead of telling him, I said

"If you want to know, meet me at noon in front of the Big Ben."

I said. My voice didn't sound scared anymore, but more cold and emotionless.

"Fine, I'll come." 

A/N

Hey! I hope that if someone is reading this, you'll tell me what you think and vote! The updates are going to be slow, but long! Also please tell me if there are any mistakes! 

There is also a co-writer to this story and she is essukkaa123