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Description

    (Name) Holmes was five years old when her older brother began to cut her off. He was fifteen and was dead set on his studies being perfect. Her other older brother, Sherlock, who was eight, tried to explain it to her but he didn’t understand it completely himself. With the neglect from his older brother Sherlock simply pushed his younger sister away and locked himself in his room most days. (Name) was brave though, and wasn’t willing to accept the thought of losing her older brother for any amount of time.

    (Name) scurried up to Mycroft’s bedroom door, which she knew would be locked. Gently, she tapped her knuckles against the solid wood to the melody of ‘Shave and a Haircut,’ as she waited for an answer. When she got none, she began to sing.

    “Do you want to play deductions!?

    I wanna hear what you would say,

    I never see you anymore, come out the door,

    Like how we used to play! ~

    I thought we could be buddies,

    Just you and me,

    I want you to show me how!

    Do you want to play deductions?

    It doesn’t have to be deductions.” She sang the cute, simple melody.

    “Go away, (Name).” Mycroft growled at the door.

    “Okay, bye.” She whispered dejectedly.

    ~*Five Years Later*~

            Mycroft was home from university for winter break. Sherlock was off god knows where and (Name) was excited to be able to spend time with her older brother again. Other than sitting at the dinner table, she never saw him, and even then he didn’t join them most nights. She slid down the hallway in her socks, landing just in front of the large wooden door, knocking the same way she always used to before singing a familiar melody. (Name) didn’t know that on the other side of the door, Mycroft had his nose in his text books, studying even in his time off.

            “Do you want to play deductions!?

            Or Operation in the halls?

            I think some company is overdue,

            I’ve started talking to a little plastic skull!

            Isn’t that right, Billy?

            It gets a little lonely,

            Not having you,

            Make fun of passers-by…

            Boring. Boring. Bored. Bored. Booooored!” She exclaimed at the end.

            (Name) stared expectantly at the door, waiting for her big brother to respond and open the door. He never did. Mycroft had blocked her out, ignored her plea for company. Her smile dropped, her heart broken. Denial slowly set in, no he wouldn’t do this to her…would he? (Name) ran from the corridor, back to her own room where she lay on her bed and sob.

            Sherlock peaked around the corner of her door, knowing exactly what had happened. Awkwardly he entered the room to console his little sister. She stiffened at his touch and inched away. Sighing, he pulled her, forcibly, into a hug, allowing her to cry into his shoulder. He hushed her and held her, hoping this wouldn’t traumatize her. But he already knew she was scarred.

~*Seven Years Later*~

            At twenty seven Mycroft had procured a government job and was well set. Although, that didn’t mean he didn’t keep a tab on his siblings or even visit; he made sure to always have time for that. He was well aware of the situation he had put his sister in, Sherlock had screamed at him many times before he moved away. (Name) was the only Holmes kid left in the residence as she tried what she could to finish out high school. Her sophomore year had tried her greatly and now, as she reached the middle of her junior year, she broke. She was diagnosed with anxiety, and a heavy fear of abandonment. (Name) saw no other way out from the anxiety, the fear, the observations flowing through her brain twenty four seven.

            He watched through a crack in the doorway and his little sister, his precious (Name), took a syringe filled with cocaine to her arm and shot it into her veins. Without looking up she started sadly, quietly, enough so that he could hear the tears in her voice.

            “Mycroft?

            Stop.

            I know you’re watching.

            You’ve seen the places that I’ve been.

            You say: ‘Be better,’ but I’m done with you,

            There’s no incentive to.

            Just leave me be. ~

            We barely see each other,

            Don’t bother me.

            What are you gonna do? ~

            Do you want…to play…deductions?” She choked, sobbing, watching as he slowly shut the door the rest of the way.

Description

    (Name) Holmes was five years old when her older brother began to cut her off. He was fifteen and was dead set on his studies being perfect. Her other older brother, Sherlock, who was eight, tried to explain it to her but he didn’t understand it completely himself. With the neglect from his older brother Sherlock simply pushed his younger sister away and locked himself in his room most days. (Name) was brave though, and wasn’t willing to accept the thought of losing her older brother for any amount of time.

    (Name) scurried up to Mycroft’s bedroom door, which she knew would be locked. Gently, she tapped her knuckles against the solid wood to the melody of ‘Shave and a Haircut,’ as she waited for an answer. When she got none, she began to sing.

    “Do you want to play deductions!?

    I wanna hear what you would say,

    I never see you anymore, come out the door,

    Like how we used to play! ~

    I thought we could be buddies,

    Just you and me,

    I want you to show me how!

    Do you want to play deductions?

    It doesn’t have to be deductions.” She sang the cute, simple melody.

    “Go away, (Name).” Mycroft growled at the door.

    “Okay, bye.” She whispered dejectedly.

    ~*Five Years Later*~

            Mycroft was home from university for winter break. Sherlock was off god knows where and (Name) was excited to be able to spend time with her older brother again. Other than sitting at the dinner table, she never saw him, and even then he didn’t join them most nights. She slid down the hallway in her socks, landing just in front of the large wooden door, knocking the same way she always used to before singing a familiar melody. (Name) didn’t know that on the other side of the door, Mycroft had his nose in his text books, studying even in his time off.

            “Do you want to play deductions!?

            Or Operation in the halls?

            I think some company is overdue,

            I’ve started talking to a little plastic skull!

            Isn’t that right, Billy?

            It gets a little lonely,

            Not having you,

            Make fun of passers-by…

            Boring. Boring. Bored. Bored. Booooored!” She exclaimed at the end.

            (Name) stared expectantly at the door, waiting for her big brother to respond and open the door. He never did. Mycroft had blocked her out, ignored her plea for company. Her smile dropped, her heart broken. Denial slowly set in, no he wouldn’t do this to her…would he? (Name) ran from the corridor, back to her own room where she lay on her bed and sob.

            Sherlock peaked around the corner of her door, knowing exactly what had happened. Awkwardly he entered the room to console his little sister. She stiffened at his touch and inched away. Sighing, he pulled her, forcibly, into a hug, allowing her to cry into his shoulder. He hushed her and held her, hoping this wouldn’t traumatize her. But he already knew she was scarred.

~*Seven Years Later*~

            At twenty seven Mycroft had procured a government job and was well set. Although, that didn’t mean he didn’t keep a tab on his siblings or even visit; he made sure to always have time for that. He was well aware of the situation he had put his sister in, Sherlock had screamed at him many times before he moved away. (Name) was the only Holmes kid left in the residence as she tried what she could to finish out high school. Her sophomore year had tried her greatly and now, as she reached the middle of her junior year, she broke. She was diagnosed with anxiety, and a heavy fear of abandonment. (Name) saw no other way out from the anxiety, the fear, the observations flowing through her brain twenty four seven.

            He watched through a crack in the doorway and his little sister, his precious (Name), took a syringe filled with cocaine to her arm and shot it into her veins. Without looking up she started sadly, quietly, enough so that he could hear the tears in her voice.

            “Mycroft?

            Stop.

            I know you’re watching.

            You’ve seen the places that I’ve been.

            You say: ‘Be better,’ but I’m done with you,

            There’s no incentive to.

            Just leave me be. ~

            We barely see each other,

            Don’t bother me.

            What are you gonna do? ~

            Do you want…to play…deductions?” She choked, sobbing, watching as he slowly shut the door the rest of the way.