Sherlock:Teenage years(BBC Fanfic)

BORED. Bored. BORED. Bored! Everything is so boring. People's life is so....ordinary. Ugh. I hate that word. People do this and that. Just the same routine, everyday. Who doesn't get bored of that?

" Time for school, brother. I'm pretty sure you don't want to miss your 'first day'." Mycroft called me, looking at his watch for time is very precious for him. "Bored." I said as I went in the car. "Did you kiss mummy and daddy good-bye?" he bent down. "Of course, my dear brother of mine. Now get inside." I replied impatiently. He went in the car and we drove straight ahead to school, my school actually. I'm in grade 7, 14 years of age while Mycroft is in collage, 21 years of age. I don't know but I really prefer homeschooling. Meeting children was a mistake for me when I was young, for me and Mycroft. Now, I'm going to meet teenagers, people that has the same age as I. What worse could possibly happen? I mean, last year kids are terrified of me, I always freak people up and disappoint them. Friends...that's what people are always up to and it's difficult. "Ah, finally. We are here." He said. The car took a curve to drop me beside the Oak tree. "Did you bring everything you need, brother? Did you bring your apple and lunch? Did you---" I confess, he asked me a lot of questions and it's quite annoying. "Yes, yes, Mycroft, I can take care of myself." I replied in frustration then went out the car with my bag and scarf.

"Be good then, Sherlock." He reminded me.

"You don't have to tell me that, you're not mummy."

"Sigh, well, have a good day on your first day of school." He sighed then they drove away. I turned around and looked at my surroundings as I walked towards the entrance. Hm, an ambidextrous kid with an excellent IQ. A woman in 30's, has drinking problems while her son, probably 6 years old, is not aware of his mom's alcohol dependency. A kid, she is crying as her mom kissed her good-bye, is she crying? why is she crying? why do kids cry if their parents leave them? Could this be---

"Separation anxiety." A female voice said. I turned around and saw a long-haired, fair-skinned lady standing beside the bulletin board. Her hair is light brown and eyes blue like the sky. She was carrying books. "It is normal for children to have this," she said to herself. I observed her. Hm, same age as I. Left-handed and short-sighted. Seems bright and has good manners, and...does martial arts? The bell rings and kids went to their classrooms. She suddenly fade in the crowd. I hurried to my classroom, in which I bumped a slightly-tanned, blonde, short boy and the books were scattered all over the floor.

"I'm sorry." I quickly apologized and help him.

"It's alright," he replied, "I'm the one who should say sorry."

I gave him the books. "Thank you." he thanked. He looked at me then ran in the hall. I was astonished. Sorry? why would he say sorry? I decided to follow him.

I was the last one to get in the class. Everyone looked at me with such unfriendly faces, except the light-brown haired girl and the blonde boy that I just saw and met, they greeted me the opposite. Silence filled the dull room. "Mr. Holmes, you're late." The teacher scolded me, "I know it's not yet 8:00, but when I'm here and you're not still here, you are considered as late. Do you understand, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, ma'am." I replied and walked towards my seat, "Bored."

"What did you say, Mr. Holmes?" She growled. I was suprised that she heard that one. She must be an incredible gossiper.

"Um, nothing, ma'am." I gulped and slumped in my chair. My, what a gormless teacher. I sat in the last row and the blonde boy sat beside me. Him again?

"Now, shall we begin?" The teacher asked.

"Yes, ma'am." everyone replied in chorus.

Sigh, this is gonna be boring. I placed my chin on the table and groaned. Then suddenly, a hand blocked my view. "Hi, I'm John. John Watson. Thanks for helping, um, me back there." He said. I just realized that he placed his hand for a handshake. "Well, um, no problem. I'm Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." I said as I shake hands with him. Wait, did I just shake hands with him? Someone just introduced himself to me? That's...unusual. No one wants to shake hands with me before. Could he be a...friend? C'mon Sherlock, deduce it.

{Author}

Haii guys, Sherlockian since birth (actually since grade 3) and Cumbercookie forevah!! Patiently waiting for Sherlock BBC season 4, can't help it but to write a fanfic. So guys, just feel free to comment and vote. :3 -Vote if convinient, if inconvinient, vote anyway... Tralalala....(tell me if there are errors in spelling and grammar...sorry don't have time to check it I guess...) God bless :D