December 24, 1985. Eight-year-old Sherlock Holmes drug himself to bed again. He thought that on break, he wouldn’t get bullied, but he was wrong. The children in the neighborhood still found ways to torment him, mentally and physically. He lost count of how many bruises, which seemed to be permanent marks on his sides and stomach, he hid from his parents. Only his brother, Mycroft, knew, but of course, he never did anything.
“Oh grow up, Sherlock,” Mycroft had told him. ”You’re never going to stop being bullied if you don’t quit whining about it all the time. You’re so stupid.”
Mycroft was older then Sherlock. Mycroft was fifteen years old. He never played with him, and he was way smarter then Sherlock. Although they almost never hung out together, Mycroft was the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock had. All anyone else ever did was bully Sherlock. They would take him away from his house during the day and kick him to the ground. They would kick and punch him until he was bruised in every place that was not visible. They were smart enough not to leave visible marks but still, Sherlock thought, they were morons compared to him and Mycroft. Sherlock had no idea why they were so cruel to him. Was it because he was smart? Maybe it was because he was different.
It was definitely because he was different.
Normal children can’t stand different. All they think is right is other children who play with dolls and toys. All they will hang out with are children just like them, and of course Sherlock wasn’t like them. Sherlock was far more intelligent, and sometimes it slipped his mouth, but he tried not to brag so much.
Of course, it’s not just him who is different. He’s not the only person in his family to be bullied. Mycroft was bullied too, still was. Although, Mycroft took it better than Sherlock; Mycroft just chose to ignore people entirely, so he never took a beating. Sherlock admired him for that. Sometimes, he wished he were his brother.
Sometimes, he wished he were normal.
And as he dragged himself into bed, he wished for nothing more then to not wake up in the morning, but tomorrow is Christmas, and he knew that that was something he shouldn’t think about. Although he hated Christmas, he had to spend time with his family, for his parents’ sake.
And he closed his eyes, tossing and turning every few minutes until he finally was able to fall asleep. He dreamed of having a friend, just one. Oh, how he wished he weren't so alone. He wished he could just have one friend.
But of course, that could never happen, could it?
Okay, so here is the first chapter. Yay!!!! This is going to be so much fun to write!!!! :D
I think I'm going to try to give each chapter a name. I don't know how long this story will be. I guess it will just keep going until I run out of ideas, but that shouldn't be happening anytime soon.
I may have a schedule for this. I can try to make each chapter several pages long, and just work a week on them so they are the best I can make them. That sounds pretty good.
Remember to vote, comment, and follow me for more!!!! I really hope you all like this!!!! :D xxx
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Redbeard (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)
Fanfiction(Kid!Lock) Bullied by the children at school and his older, smarter brother Mycroft, Sherlock Holmes feels nothing but alone in the world. One Christmas morning though, he receives the best gift any lonely child could ask for.
