"Mummy, mummy, please!" a child begged. The child was a little over 40 feet from me, in a very busy subway station under London, but the sound still vibrated off of everything and made it's way to my ears.
I clenched the ends of my black sweater jacket and closed my eyes, focusing carefully on everything that surrounds me, seeing if I'm getting better.
About 600 pairs of feet, which, divided by 2, would equal around 300 people that are in the station. I hear so many sounds. A child begging and the mother telling him no, a street performer singing a song and coins clinging against one another in the guitar case, the train moving quickly by me, almost making me deaf, the chatter amongst the group of friends that lie 36 feet behind me.
But where is it? I heard the noise and trying to look for it again. My nurse would say I'm just hearing things but I'm not, I know I'm not. At least, not now, anyway.
...Then, I hear it.
The sound. The sound of someone crying.
I slowly open my eyes and squint, vision seeing past everything. Ignoring everything. It becomes quiet, the only sound that my ears register are the sobs of a tan skinned woman. Black, wavy hair flows down her back and a nice beige over coat sits upon her shoulders. She wipes her nose with her sleeve and turns around, not even seeing me. But, I know she can't see me. No one notices me.
She rests her hands on her hips, revealing the front of a purple floral dress. She clicks her black high heels and looks to the cement roof. She cries again and then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. A black bag lies beside her but it seems as though she ignores it, not even noticing that it's there. But, it is hers.
She opens her eyes and looks towards the tracks, seeming afraid when doing so. Her watch beeps. She hesitantly locks at it and at the same time, I look at mine.
5 PM. Exactly 5 PM. My senses come back to me and I notice a train coming and the tan woman takes a deep breath and walks towards the edge of the tracks...
The next second happening in a blur to me.
Blood is splattered, screams and shouts are heard, and I hear the sound of brakes screeching, causing me to wince a bit. I look to the tracks to see a mangled body underneath the train, flesh is spread a little ways in front of it, towards me.
A man hurriedly jumped off the train, looking frightened and a little green. The police push him back into the crowd and hand him his brown suitcase. A dark, forest green coat rests on his shoulders and his hand is over his mouth, he turns towards my direction and crouches over, trying not to vomit.
Dark mahogany colored hair (more red than brown), bright blue, almost white, eyes, a brown plaid shirt with brown dress pants and beige boots. I squint and see a name tag but the writing's too small so I can't make out what it says.
The only thing that kept crossing my mind, though, was the black purse that was left untouched. The police kept everyone back but I started to walk and slip behind the crowd. I walked unnoticed by others, to the bag and picked it up after looking around to see that no one was watching me.
I looked back at the bag and clenched my jaw.
It's not... stealing if it's from a dead woman... right?
I clutch the bag next to me and then hurry away from the large crowd of people, my senses were starting to get mixed up again. I can't have that, it's not good for me. That's the thing that first got me into that dreadful asylum in the first place.
I found the restrooms and I checked each stall to see no one in here. I ran back to the door and locked it. I go back to the purse that sits on the pristine white counter and dump the components on the counter. Wallet, keys, phone, tissues and other stuff.
YOU ARE READING
A Problem Unsolved (BBC Sherlock fan fiction)
Fanfiction**Post Reichenbach** Erys Keaton, a homeless girl with a slight mental problem, just got out of a hospital that she had been stuck in for eight years. When witnessing the suicide of an Internet star, Erys meets smart and witty Sherlock Holmes and so...
