Death of a Consulting Detective

So This is the New Year

December 31, 2013

11:45 p.m.

Today is New Year's Eve. Usually the whole lot of the world chooses these last few minutes of the year to create some sort of resolution or make amends to start the New Year fresh. I am doing something along those lines; I am creating the resolution...the Final Resolution. Before I explain my whole situation, in a rather dramatic fashion, I shall quickly summarize my predicament - and the ultimate ending for all human beings - in three words.

I am dying.

Simple as that really. I am dying and will cease to exist this very night. I've heard of quite a few cases where humans know the day they will finally die. I suppose I have become one of those human beings. I know I will not see what the New Year will bring; I know I have longed for death ever since John died. Now my time is finally drawing to a close and I have learned one more thing:

I am terrified of dying.

How the hell do I know all of this? Well you see I have not eaten a thing in the longest time. My weight has gone from healthy to unhealthy very quickly. Of course I knew what I was doing to my body for I've had it scientifically planned out so I would die on this day. As I have been sitting around slowly killing myself I've been tempted to go ask Ms. Hudson for a well cooked meal - tempted to back out of my plan. But then I would see how much the world is improving without the great Sherlock Holmes around to fuck anything up.
Lestrade has started to clean up his life with a new girlfriend, a new flat. Crime in London is down and Mycroft seems to be so much more relaxed than before. If the world needed me they would have knocked on my door by now.

11:50 p.m.

There's a small part of me that really doesn't want to die. I know it's going to happen anyway but there is one last thing I want to do before it happens. The song I was in the process of writing for John was finished yesterday in my time of boredom. I want to play the whole thing for him before I die.

I pick up my violin as if it were small particles of sand that may blow away at the slightest tremor of the hand. Then I make sure the few pieces of paper, with music notes dancing along the lines, are on the music stand for me to see clearly. After I have properly set up everything the timing is perfect and the song will end at exactly midnight.

11:51 p.m.

The rhythm sounded the same as the first time playing the notes - soft and comforting. This time I remained by the window to watch the first snowflakes fall on the few people walking below. My mind is too filled with thoughts of death that the music could not possibly overtake it. So I just stood there feeling just as cold as the people outside or the ice crystals floating downward ever so slowly.

11:55 p.m.

The song was halfway done and for a brief moment I allowed myself to feel fear. I let my heart pound and my body tremble. Like I said this was only for a moment; the melody went on. The snow fell heavier now as the minutes went by. Any minute now my heart is going to stop. The world will go about its merry way in the New Year as my mind rots in the previous one.

11:58 p.m.

As the music came to a close I thought about all the little details that made up my precious blogger. We were the exact opposite of one another which is why I think we suited each other so well. He put the humanity within my work so that I may be successful in life. John Hamish Watson is that positive force that attracts to the negative force I seem to bring about other people. He brought a heavenly light to the dark abyss I often found myself living in.

It's sort of like how a person experiences or consumes something absolutely amazing but then it is cut out of their life or becomes a rare experience. The person forever wants to go back to that incredible moment or wants to obtain more of a product to consume. It's like how people become addicted to drugs or alcohol, but my addiction is so much better than that. I became addicted to having someone truly love me for who I am but that love was taken away and I haven't experienced something so strong since.

11:59 p.m.

I've felt so terribly sick today that it almost feels unnatural to feel healthy right now. Some speculations have been made that the minute before you die is when the world seems to put itself back together again and you feel as if everything may actually be alright. As my song comes to a close my stomach momentarily stops yelling out at me and it feels like another normal New Year's Eve with John. I think that maybe, just maybe, I will live to see 2014 and the great things it may bring. This feeling only lasted for a mere 60 seconds.

12:00 a.m.

I play the last few notes to the melody I've titled "The Soldier". I feel my body slowly shutting itself down. This is it - my final moments in 221B Baker Street, in London, and in the planet humanity has deemed as home. I set the violin down on the desk, place the bow on the music stand in front of the papers with scribbled music notes, and glance one last time out the window.

I've already come up with a proper place for me to die. John's chair has a perfect view of the cold snow that will match the temperature of my dead body very well.

I sit down and wait. My mind silences itself as if I were about to go to sleep only to wake up the next day.

Snowflakes fly mercilessly into the glass of the window - melting upon impact. It must be a sign for how this is the moment where I melt away after all the horrors I've faced in my lifetime. I'm so tired right now that the thought of no one remembering my life hardly phases me. My breathing starts to increase; my heart wants to fly out of my chest it's beating so hard.
Then everything slows.

"Happy New Year John." I mutter before letting my eyelids fall shut.

Finally my soul escapes its vessel into a beautiful state of eternal peace.

January 1, 2014

12:01 a.m.

Sherlock Holmes is dead.