So guys NOW there will be 2-3 chapters left. Do you guys get feels? I want to know if you get the feels. Now, for the weather
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We set to work, putting together all the things Sherlock has done wrong to create one single poster. One poster to destroy him. Jim and I go crazy, me doing all the drawings because everything Jim does turns morbid, and him writing down the attack message. Sherlock won't leave this untouched, he will most definitely fight back, so we make the message full of words to wage war. When the final product is created, his face lights up like a boy on Christmas. It's pretty impressive, I must say. And it will be effective. I allow myself a slight smile, the first smile I have had in two months. Since he, Sherlock, abandoned me. I should have gotten used to it by now, but I just can't. He seemed so affectionate towards me. But it was a lie? I shake the feeling off and look at our work again. Now it's time to copy it and show it to people. Then, mission accomplished. Jim turns to me, the wide grin still showing on his face.
"I'll copy it. You go home and rest." I nod and walk out of his bedroom. I have been going there a lot lately. Jim sure does like to "play" as he calls it. I get home and plop myself on my bed, getting out homework and going straight to work. I have been getting bad grades recently, and if I want to become a doctor I need to get all A's. That's going to be hard if I never do any of my work. It's Jim, he's starting to make me wonder if being a doctor really is as good as it seems to be. I hear a quiet knock on my door. Here's Harry again. Her daily visits. She walks in and sits next to me.
"Hey, John. Hows your homework doing?"
"It's not going to be finished if you keep pestering me." I keep my head down on Algebra.
She nods, "So hows Sherlock doing?"
"I told you. I hate him now I want nothing to do with him."
"Except working 24-7 to bring him down, of course."
"Why do you never talk about Jim?"
"Because when I do you yell at me for talking shit about him."
"He's my boyfriend."
"No, John. He's destroying your perfect life you had before."
"With a lying sociopath? With no bloody parents?"
"No! With a boyfriend who really loved you! With a sister who was always there for you!"
"I don't need you. I don't need him. I'm fine by myself. All by myself." I put down m homework.
"You do need those things. Your going to kill yourself without it."
"How would you know? You don't have a love interest. And you certainly don't have a brother who loves you."
She pulls back, hurt by my harsh, yet true, remarks, "Go back to your damn horrible life then, John. But know that I will always be your loving sister. You can't get rid of me."
I ignore her, and instantly go back to my homework.
The next day, I walk into school and see the posters literally all over the school. I laugh, and I feel an arm placed around me, squeezing me towards him.
"Hey, Jim."
"Johnny! Do you like it?"
"Hell yeah." We walk together to my locker, where Jim looks around for our "special victim".
He punches my arm softly and pushes me around to see Sherlock, his head down and walking quickly to the locker next to mine and opening it without a word.
"Hey Sherley Locks." he ignores Jim.
"You like it? We worked on it together," His head turns up at the sound of my voice, and when he does see me it looks like he has just been hit with a bullet. Betrayed. That's right, I never told him I was dating Jim, even friends with him. This is the first time seeing us together, since I shut him away from my life. He leaves his locker open and runs away. Runs away from us. Runs away from the world. Guilt seizes me in it's grasp. He didn't just need me for selfish reasons. Jim lied. It was true hurt that lies in those eyes. The tears come. I turn to Jim.
"That was fun, wasn't it Joh-"
I punch him. Oh how good does it feel. I punch him so hard that he topples over and falls on the ground. He rises quickly though, holding his bleeding nose.
"You haven't done that to me since you beat up me and my buddies behind the school. To protect your precious boyfriend. Are you really that weak, that you'll just go back to that?"
He told me that before. That he was the one to hurt Sherlock. but only now does the pieces come together. Sherlock loved me, Jim didn't. Jim was using me to get to Sherlock. Jim is the enemy. I punch him again, kicking him in the crotch. By now people gather around us. Jim doesn't fight back. Wait, no, not Jim. Moriarty. Moriarty doesn't deserve a first name. He doesn't deserve anything. He lies on the ground, not crying or screaming but obviously in pain. I run across the hall, ripping all the hurtful posters to shreds. I guess you could call this a temper tantrum. I need to calm down.
I burst into the boys bathroom, running past (Was that Mycroft and Lestrade?) two boys making out. Mycroft catches me in the corner of his eye, and pulls back from Lestrade, approaching and sitting beside me. He opens his mouth, but then closes it quickly, "Greg. You're better at this. Do you mind talking to Watson about his problem?"
Lestrade glares at me, "Talk to the bloody traitor? Nah, I'm good."
"Come on, love. I think he just realized Moriarty was using him. He's having regrets. Talk to Watson, for me?"
"Fine," he sits next to me instead, "So, you guilty, I guess? My only advise is to talk to Sherlock, before he does something stupid." I nod, and wipe the tears from my face.
"But, but how could I be so BLIND!" I clutch onto my pants, balling up my fist in frustration.
"Punch the wall. Get out all that frustration, mate." So I do, with throwing all my energy on the damn wall, screaming as I do so. I'm so stupid. So stupid! SO STUPID!
