He was sick and tired of staring at the same four bloody walls. All the same patronising baby blue that had obviously greyed over time. He could count the days up in his head but he didn't need to. On the back wall, well what he assumed was the back wall, was a tally of his days wherever he was. The walls were soft but firm. Like they were made of debsley packed chalk, but they were soft enough for him to scratch a little mark with his fingernail each day.
60 days exactly. That was 60 of no sunlight, no human contact, nothing beyond these for walls. At night it's felt like he was getting high as he fell asleep. The walls seemed to curve in the dark, encircling him and encasing him. He was a man in a room without a door and he still didn't feel trapped until the night came. The light was turned of and the walls curved in and his head seemed to sink into his pillow.
The man knew exactly 6 things about himself and his situation that he was positive were true.
•He was a man.
•He was 26 years old.
•He had black curly hair.
•He was a diagnosed sociopath.
•His name was William Sherlock Holmes.
•And this was not 'normal'.
Sherlock didn't know if their were other people locked in somewhere similar to him. He wished that he could just see a sign anything that he wasn't alone. He prayed every night that he wasn't alone.
And he wasn't.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The study of the unsociables.
FanficA Phsycopath. A Murderer. A Mute. A Sociopath. An Addict. ______________ A Lost Boy. A Victim. A Misunderstood Genius. A Lonley Heart. A Soldier. ______________ This is a Sherlock Fanfic. (Idk how to explain it) IN PROGRESS. XXX
