Dedicated to Evan who suggested this horrible story idea that is actually quite brilliant. He's the muse behind the story and not the center of my Sherlock Holmes obsession.
(this is a satire, hopefully, becuase otherwise there is no point)
Here we go... (Italics mean thoughts....)
I woke up this morning feeling achy. As I stretched for the sky, one of my arms fell off. This day is just going to be FANTASTIC. I begrudgingly bent over to retrieved my inanimate arm.
Well hi there invisible audience who I have no knowledge of. My name is Sherlock Holmes and I'm a zombie. At 18 it is rather a bothersome attribute as one cannot get near anyone. However, that is okay becuase I prefer to be alone anyway and enjoy experiments and science, a characteristic I do not share with my fellow peers. Now I will pretend I did not introduce myself to said invisible audience
I grabbed a suit out of my closet, and changed out of my dressing gown. I grab my shiny, dress shoes and make an attempt at appearing clean cut. Which was not hard as my shirt was ironed as well as my pants and jacket and my immaculate hygiene showed through....
I have supreme care for hygiene, almost cat like. I find this a rather odd attribute for a zombie. I mean if there is anything more unhygienic than a zombie, let me know. But I go on.
I'm off to class as I shut my oak wood door and set out into castle. See I attend Hogwart's School for Wizardry, and am probably the only student to not have been placed in a house. This was not by my fault, rather that stupid hat could not decide. I thought it was all quite illogical anyway as all one had to do was read the victim's body language to know what kind of character they possessed.
I won't lie and say I hate the potion class as it is probably my favorite class. The mixtures are complex and offer a challenge as well as many concoctions that have yet to be discovered! I can easily memorize and annunciate the proper spells and articulate the wand in the proper manner, but thats boring.
I was deep in my thoughts, contemplating a new potion with wolf's bane and werewolf tears when OOPPHHH!!
I had run into someone, or rather they had run into me. He was boy, probably a few years older than me, but not much. His manners were minimalistic and he wore a simple wool sweater. His hair was a simple cut, and his face bode a serious look. Overall I'd say he had an older brother, alcoholic. Came from an otherwise stable and simple home. Wanted to be a doctor, juding by the glint in his eye that conveyed genuine care. That and his Anatomy and Physiology book.
"Sorry." He mumbled in a soft, distant manner.
I simply stared in response, but it didn't matte as he was off before I knew what had happened.
Off to my class I went.
Oh gosh, that was just terrible, and yet I couldn't be as terrible as Evan wanted probably... Sorry but it's hard to write stupid...
.......lawd.
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