The Life of Sherlocks Daughter

Chapter 6

The darkness finally lifted and I could only open my eyes a tiny bit before the pain made me close them again. I was struggling to remember what had happened and why I was tied to a chair. Wait I was tied to a chair? When did that happen? Oh right, when Mary kidnapped me. That's all I can remember and I'm having trouble remembering much more.

Sherlock and John were just people I knew, of no real significance, and everyone else are just names floating around in my head. I could tell I had been hit on the back of the head as I could feel the dried blood on my neck. I needed to get out but with no signs of a door and I couldn't see behind me due to my injury, I assumed that the door was behind me.

How wrong was I. Mary came to see me with a sly and wicked grin on her face. A guy walked in behind her wheeling a try of metal instruments, none of which looked pleasant, all designed for torture. She introduced that the man behind her was called Jim Moriarty. He had the same look of wicked glee on his face as Mary. When he turned his head to look at Mary who had know walked to my left, I noticed four old scars running down his cheek. They looked like they could have been caused by a women's fingernails due to the width of them.

My eyes opened in shock and I could feel another panic attack coming on. Mary's grin grew wider. "So you liked my little present to you then?" I thought that this was impossible but then I realized that she must have used Jim to collect information on this guy called John and where we lived. Why was I living with him? No matter, but I must have been an unexpected surprise and he dealt with me any way that he could in a panicked moment.

I knew that she wanted to get on with the torture but something stopped her for a minuet. She walked over to the interesting table, the moment passed and she picked up a thing with a wooden handle and that was all it looked like. That was until she walked closer to me. The thing had a blade so thin that it was nearly invisible until the light caught the sharp silver. I knew this was going to hurt.

"Where does Sherlock get his knowledge from?" she asked. I knew this wasn't the time for sarcastic answers but I said it anyway. " I don't know, his mind perhaps?" This earned me a slap to the face. I could feel the red patch swelling slightly with the force. I didn't need to be asked twice. I kept quiet from then on. I wasn't going to give up the secrets of this man who meant nothing to me but I felt I should protect him.

This process went on for a few hours until she got bored and then set Jim on me. That didn't work either and the only sounds that came from me were my screams but I would never talk about this Sherlock guy. They said he would be looking for me even thought I had no idea why. The darkness was pulling me under again and I let it.

I woke up again to a blinding white room with a constant beeping somewhere in the room and I knew that I was lying down in bed with this guy sitting on a chair in the corner. He was worried and had red eyes like he had been crying. His curly hair was looking dishevelled his clothes looked a few days old at least. He spoke first as my throat seemed to have dried out. "How are you feeling?" What do I say to this, I didn't know him but he seemed familiar and he had asked me a question so I politely answered " I'm much better now, thank you." A look of relief flooded his face but soon dropped again when I asked "If you don't mind , would you tell me who you are please?"

The tears threatened to fall again from his eyes and he left quickly so I couldn't see him cry.

That was the story of how I got my memory loss and my blog. The pieces slowly fell back into place over the following weeks but some parts where still missing. Maybe I'll never get them back but I must keep writing as this is helping as I now know that Sherlock is my dad.

Some things still need to return like the fact that I have friends and their names and I can't wait to see them. Maybe tomorrow.