--------------5 hours earlier--------------
What madness overtook me that I shot and killed my therapist I am unsure. I am, however, sure that the police will have a price on my head for this. So I run to the window and weigh my options.
I could jump, but break both legs when I land. The police wouldn't exactly have a hard time finding me. Well, except for Anderson. He'd probably think I was hiding under a desk or something stupid like that. Plus, I've been terrified to jump anywhere after... Sherlock's... disappearance.
Okay, if not jumping, then what? I consider trying to tie a rope of some kind to a window and climbing down. No, they'll see the remains. I suddenly got an idea! What if I tie four separate ropes to four random windows? Then they won't be able to pinpoint which one is mine! And then I'll have a 75% chance of escape! Hey, you never know.
This seems like a fantastic idea at the time. When I start rushing around, trying to find rope, the problems start popping up, however.
"She doesn't keep rope in here?! What kind of bloody idiot doesn't keep rope?" I muttered insult after insult about my therapist. "By now the police have gotten the call and are on their way," I lamented.
"Okay, okay, no rope but... blankets! If I tie them together I can make a rope!" I immediately got to work, tying and tying, pulling and hurrying. I finished nearly 10 minutes later and left out of the window. Just in time too, the sirens from the police cars are deafening by the front door.
Then I ran and ran and ran all the way across London to my flat, 221 B Baker Street.
YOU ARE READING
My Conductor of Light
FanfictionThree years after Sherlock's death, everyone is convinced that he's dead and gone- except for one person. John Watson seems to have a lot on his agenda, including, but not limited to, mysteries, plots, murders, solving the identity of the mysterious...
