The sociopathic genius. (Discontinued.)

Cafes or Crimescenes?

                                                                    Chapter 5.

Friday dawned bright and sunny. Perfect weather. BRZZZ! BRZZZ! John reached over and smacked his alarm into silence. Then he grouned and sat up. "Yes I must admit that clock of yours isn't exactly the most pleasant thing to wake up to" said a voice. "Don't you ever sleep" mumbled John sleepily. He looked groggedly over at his already dressed roommate. "Not really" muttered Sherlock distractedly, he was busy looking througha folder full of photos from his preveous cases. Stumbeling over to the chest of drawers John started the search for his school uniform, then he remembered his date with Sarah. Suddenly full of energy he began chucking all his clothes over his shoulder trying to look for something date suitable. "As much as  I like your jumpers John  I would rather not be buried in them" came the surly voice of Sherlock from behind him. 

"Oh sorry." John went over and collected all his wayward articals of clothing. "I don't know why you're chucking everything around anyway. You've already found your school uniform so whats the problem" said Sherlock, yanking a cream coloured jum,per off his head. "I need something to wear after lessons, something nice. Any ideas?" asked John absently. "These replied Sherlock immediately, handing John a dark red cardigan and a cream colour shirt. "Okay. Thanks" replied John looking doubtfully at the cardigan. 

"What's it for anyway? Are you going out or something?"

"Can't you just deduce it?"

"Can't be bothered."

John hesitated. He hadn't told Sherlock about his date with Sarah. He wasn't sure how to, he wasn't sure if Sherlock even understood the concept of a date. John also couldn't help feelin guilty about leaving Sherlock behind. It wasn't as Sherlock really had any other friends that he could hang out with. On the other hand Sherlock was likely to spend the afternoon tucked up in his mind palce (whatever that was) and probably wouldn't even notice that John was gone. "No reason " John muttered nervously. In the time john had spent concidering the matter Sherlock had forgottejn about the whole thing and was busy looking behind one of the gigantic piles of books. "You haven't seen my riding crop have you?" Sherlock called over his shoulder. John shook his head in bwillderment.

                                                     ********************************

The bell rang to signify the end of lessons. All over the school the deafening sound of hundreds of student pushing back their chairs and charging out of classroomd ricishaded off the walls. Sherlock and John emerged from their classrom at a leisurerly pace, deep in dicussion. The last lesson of the day had been socioligy, a subject that they both found equally boring. Five mijnutes into the lesson they had sprung up a conversation abou a boy in the year below them who thought that his fathr had been devoured by a giant monster dog. 

"I just don't think it's possible. There are no dogs capable of doing that, seriously maime you perhaps but not eat you entirerly. I just can't see how it can be true that his dad was eaten by a gigantic dog"

"Very good John, You're right. Such a dog cannot exist."

"So he is lying then."

"Oh no. I didn't say that. The actual dog might not be real but that doesn't mmean the whole thing is a lie. Something horrible may well have happened to his father and the dog is an invented memory that his traumatized brain has come up with because the reality is to much for him to handle. He was only nine when it happened, childrens minds rationalise things in strange ways. He wouldn't even though that his memory was a fantasy."