Sherlock - Blank spaces

pain and loss

Sherlock awoke. He was at home with thick black straps made of leather pining him to his bed. A tube was threaded into his thin arm pumping a smoothing liquid into his system. There was a high pitch ringing in his ears and whispering in his head. Sherlock tried to shake it off but it would not vanquish. At this point he started calling desperately for John . His name echoing the empty room. Sherlock could hear footsteps but ... They was unknown to him . The door swang open and in stepped a rather tall man with his belt litters with medical equipment . At this point sherlock was now pulling with all his might in till thick cuts started to form on his delicate wrists , blood now dripping onto the floor. ' where is John !!' He almost spat at the man .' What have you done with my John !!'. He could feel hot tears trickling down his cheeks , anger and emotion pounding throw his body like waves. The man who was now standing in the middle of his room started to speak his voice chilling sherlock to the bone ' James ... There is no John he is someone you talk about in your sleep , you make up stuff and convince your self that it is true ... James you are schizophrenic and this James moriarty is just a an anatation of your self... I'm sorry a cople of years ago I dionogsed you as a psychopath ' . ''Sherlock'' opened his mouth ' im not a psychopath I'm a high functioning socio.....' Sherlock was never going to give in John was real , how could he have such feelings for someone who did not exist. He IS sherlock homes the worlds only consultive detective and he IS johns. At this point his body could take no more heart ache and he fell stressfully to sleep.