The Case Of Love For Two Girls

Chapter 1; The underground

Aggressively opening the door- which had not been open for a long time- stepped out a short, woman, who looked around thirty-five. Not moving a muscle, she leaped outside onto the step by the front door of an old flat. The woman looked as if she had been crying. Her mid-length, wavy, blonde hair was messy, her make up had looked as if a tornado had struck her face, her right shoelace was undone, one trouser leg was higher than the other and she had a large shopping bag in her left hand which was piled up with clothes. She looked rough.

As soon as the woman walked down the step, a bus came hurrying around the corner of the street, straight into a thick, big, black puddle. 'Splash' the water went all over the girl. The sudden water slightly woke her up, as the puddle was so bitter cold and made it's way all over this ladies body.

The woman dropped her bag, remaining calm and whispered to her self.

"Bloody, bastard, bus drivers!"

Her cracked lips slowly raised into a slight smirk. Her lips had looked as if they had been touched by another's lips however, whoever this person was, did not truly love her. You could tell by her watery, hazel eyes, and the dark bags beneath her eye lashes that she wasn't being treated with respect.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the woman picked up her bag and swung it sharply onto her right shoulder. The sound of her footsteps made the girl smile, as the racket of her feet splashing in the puddles reminded her of the great childhood that she once had.

The woman stumbled down the stairs to the underground station. She was lost, lost in mind. She didn't know where she was going. The other side of London? Was she going to her Mother's? She just didn't know. The woman got into the underground station, it was dark and smelt funny. She took a step to the left to get out of people's way. She turned on her phone- which had such little life left- and went onto BBC News to check the weather. As she scrolled down, a drop of rain suddenly landed on her screen.

The woman wiped off the rain drop with her sleeve, which was still damp from her tears from previous nights. She read what was on her phone, exactly where the rain drop landed.

CONSULTING DETECTIVE?
Sherlock Holmes, the one and only greatest man. Hero of London!

The woman was interested in the article, therefore she carried on reading. The article explained how Sherlock had solved many cases, with his small, blogger 'John Watson' The woman recognised the name. She wanted to know more. She was excited. She noticed how the address of these two men was 221B, Baker Street. She finally knew where she was going.

The woman slowly lifted up her right leg onto the floor of the tube, her shoelace pinged the yellow pole, that she viscously grabbed as she stepped onto the train. Vibrations of the sound went across all the carriages on the train. She turned to her left to see that everyone was glaring at her.

She swayed slightly to her right as the train started to move. The sound of the train moving slowly across the old tracks and the mixed smell of damp and body odour filled the girls lungs. It made the young girl think. Why is she actually going to visit the greatest man, Sherlock Holmes?

The woman stood completely still, like a statue. Her grip didn't loosen on the yellow pole as the train went across the tracks. Everybody was still glancing at her, as drips of water splatted onto the deck of the train.

Suddenly... the train stopped. All the water from the young girl swam to the front of the train, it was like a water slide. She had reached her final destination.

Suddenly the doors slid open and everyone rushed out, as if the queen was outside. The woman got pushed out the train, she watched her surroundings as a rat suddenly ran over her feet, causing her to scream. Everyone was looking at her again.

The station was in a poor state, like always. Rats were running around the place, every bench had a tramp; It was quiet for a Monday morning.

The woman made her way up to the stairs. The weather had changed quiet a bit since she left the old, small flat. The British rain was harshly hitting on the girls shoulders as she slowly made her way to Baker Street. It was cold. The woman got to a black door on baker street. Was this it? Is this the place? Why did she even leave that flat in the first place?