I was a young girl I don't even remember what age I was, but I do remember my best friend, Dean Winchester. He moved away when his mom died in a fire that burned down his house. Shortly after I moved too, I moved to London, where mom grew up.
When I was in high school I met my best friend, I love him to death! his name is Sherlock Holmes, we became friends in the first day when we deduced each other ,it had been a bit awkward when he was trying to show off and isolate himself with his superiority ,then to find out I had the same intentions I hate people, they are all just incompetent imbeciles who don't know how to do anything, they're all so boring ,but Sherlock wasn't and it was nice to meet someone who was like me.
One day when we were all older and I had been working with Sherlock as a detective or 'consulting detective' as he likes to call himself. That morning we were telling Mike Stamford 'how we must be a difficult pair to find a flat mate for' ,and then after lunch time he comes back with an old friend who is an army doctor his name is John Watson. He had become Sherlock and I 's best friend.
Last week we got a call from Lestrade about a murder. The victim was shredded and torn apart and all they could find was a trace of sulfur. Imagine my surprise when I find my childhood best friend pretending to be FBI with a fake name asking weird questions about the case.
I think I'd like to see where this is going.
*{A.N} LETTING YOU GUYS KNOW THAT THIS IS MY OWN FANTACIES THAT I HAVE WHEN IM BORED OR WHEN I DAYDREAM I THINK ITS GONNA BE LIKE A CONTINUING STORY IF YOU DONT MIND BUT IM NOT SURE SO..... DONT JUDGE ME IM NOT CRAZY FOR HAVING FANDOM DAYDREAMS!!!
BYEE!!
