How did Sherlock find out about my father's drinking problem?
It's impossible! He couldn't have overheard! I didn't tell anyone at this school...or my old one. Mary doesn't know, my old best friend doesn't know, how can he know?
Currently, I am sitting in on of the stalls in the girls' restroom.
It smells like someone vomited in here, but where else can I go? The janitor's closet was locked, and all the classrooms are locked during lunch. And if I were to go in a classroom, the teacher might get the wrong idea, thinking I'm stealing or something.
I cannot go out there, not now, not ever. Now that Sherlock and John know, I can't possibly face them. Chemistry is going to be horrible tomorrow!
I put my head in my hands, on my knees. My fingers raked through my hair. It was sort of hard, since my hair was in a neat, low ponytail. However, strands were falling out, framing my face.
I took a deep breath, and walked out of the stall. Slowly treading to the sinks, I did a quick scan of the bathroom. There's nobody except me.
Turning on the faucet, I cupped my hands to gather some water. The water was cold, icy and clear. At least the water seems clean, unlike the bathroom.
Splashing water in my face, it calmed me. My breathing went back to normal, and I no longer felt the growing pain in my chest.
Grabbing a couple paper towels to my right, I turned back to the sink, and wiped my face. My hand automatically found the edge of the counter, and I looked down at my shoes after throwing away my paper towels.
One more deep breath, and...
I lifted my head up and looked in the dirty, cracked mirror. I cringed, not because of how I looked, but because of how I looked.
I never thought I was pretty, or cute, or somewhat average. I wouldn't necessarily call myself ugly, though. Well, not in public or in front of my mom. She would just ask what happened to my self-esteem.
Those girls, who say their ugly, but are utterly gorgeous just to get attention ticks me off.
I say I'm ugly, because I know I am.
Trying to get something to work with my hair, I ended up fixing it a bit, still keeping it in a low ponytail.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming this way, and the door opening. Quickly, I jumped into a random stall, and locked the door.
"Molly?"
My ears perked up; it was Mary.
"Molly? Are you in here?"
Breathing quietly, I tried to make my presence unknown.
"Molly, I can hear you breathing."
I breathed out a heavy sigh, my cover blown.
"Please come out Molly."
"I can't."
"Why not?" She asked, sincerity dripping through her voice.
"I-I can't face you, or John," I closed my eyes, "or Sherlock."
"Molly, John told me what happened."
My eyes squeezed shut tighter, trying to pretend like I wasn't here. My old therapist told me to think of happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
Happy thoughts...
"Molly, it's alright, you can always tell me anything."
Happy thoughts...
"You can trust me, Molly."
Happy thoughts....
"Please come out."
I opened my eyes. My happy thoughts were gone now. It was time for me to go out.
When I opened the stall, Mary was standing there, fiddling with her fingers, looking down.
She smiled when she saw me.
"Now, let's go back outside, shall we?"
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YAY UPLOADED BAZOW
So you saw more of Molly's insecure side...you'll see more later.
Well, since this is a short story, I should start wrapping it up a little.
BEWARE: THE ENDING MAY BE RUSHED A LITTLE!
BYE! TILL NEXT TIME <3
YOU ARE READING
Under the Radar (a Sherlolly fanfiction)
FanfictionMolly Hooper was never one to speak her mind. She was just an ordinary girl, living her life in the shadows, hoping to go through her junior year of high school, unnoticed. That is, until she met Sherlock Holmes, a boy quite far from ordinary. He's...
