The night we finished, Monday night, I decided to take a sleeping pill. I had been staying up late helping him and I need the sleep. I slept good, but again, still had the nightmare. I got up around ten. When I went to bed it was one, so that was accurate. I started to make omelets when I realized how many texts I got from Mycroft. The past couple of weeks I have been turning his notifications off . Nothing new that he sent, but one thing caught my eye. It was from this morning at six.
I'll be coming over at twelve. Be ready.
-MH
I wasn't ready at all. I haven't eaten. Sherlock is sprawled over the couch and I'm not even in real clothing. I ran over to Sherlock and shook him awake.
"What do you want," he asked.
"Mycroft is coming over at twelve. It's now ten thirty." He became attentive. He started cleaning up. I finished our breakfast. We both ate quickly. We both got changed and we were done right when he walked in.
"Hello Hazel. How nice is it to see you again," Mycroft says.
"Not to sure about that," I respond. Sherlock laughed but stayed silent.
"Your level of disrespect is appalling."
"Why thank you." I ignored him and sat across from me on John's old Chair.
"I found something. I actually found multiple things."
"And why do I need to know?"
"I found your files and your parents."
"Oh good you did something productive for once. Now I won't have to help."
"Do you know where I found them?"
"I can't read minds."
"I found them with your parents' bodies." I perked up.
"They were dead four years ago."
"No. They never died in the accident. They were found in a back alley in London. They were murdered. Very gruesome."
"How do you know it's them?"
"Tests. The best scientists in the world tested them. It's your parents. We were able to salvage some of the items on them. I'll leave then here."
"This is impossible!" He stood up. So did I.
"Oh deary, nothing's impossible."
I ran to my bedroom leaving them both. I want to leave them forever. I hid a knife in the dresser if anything ever happened. I couldn't live through my parents dealth again. It was the only thing I cared about. I looked the door to my room. Hopefully Sherlock would not be able to come in.
I sat in the bed and held the knife to my heart. I was ready to die. To leave everything. I would be putting myself out of my misery anyway. Maybe in heaven I'll be as to feel, but for now I'm prepared to leave this earth as The Girl That Couldn't Feel.