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Whipped	By : This_is_The_Phantom_Lady Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3753 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This contains major triggers for people with issues with self-harm. I do not own or profit on any official BBC Sherlock characters or any other part of BBC Sherlock.

Chapter List
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I passed time with my new favourite activity, apparently. I had been staring at the street outside for hours…
I was strangely numb as the world just continued out there; London hustling and bustling in front of my eyes.
All of the different people oblivious to my very existence.
- Only this time they actually couldn’t see me. I was hidden behind window panes and white walls. A prisoner in a way, but at my own device…
Kate had placed a health shake in the window frame for me; served in a tall glass with a straw so I wouldn’t have to endure another humiliating force feeding session at the oh so ‘merciful’ hands of Miss A.
The look in Kate’s eyes had been physically painful to be at the receiving end of.
It was a pitiful stare. She was sorry for me…
She knew what I had done…
How well and truly I had fucked up.

…
“Do you miss it, your life out there?”
I had not noticed the Woman entering the room so I jumped with a startled gasp. I was overly alert. Ready for fight or flight…
“I don’t know, Miss A.” I shrugged tiredly; calming myself down. I needed to remain cool.
My eyes never even left the window. My body was heavy; so immensely heavy.
“Were the cold streets of London better than where you came from?” she stood next to me; looking out just as I was.
She was trying to comfort me by mirroring my movements.
“I don’t know, Miss A.” I repeated my answer; even keeping the tone.
I didn’t know anything anymore.
I could barely remember my old name, or my new one for that matter.
I couldn’t remember what my mother’s favourite cake tasted like even if I still knew the recipe by heart.
But I could remember the smell of Macy’s jacket… the feeling of her rough fingers carefully brushing through my hair on bad nights; trying to stop my trembling and the loud chattering of my teeth.
I could remember the heartbreak in her eyes recently. Oh if only she knew…
Oh Macy… I kept failing people.
“Sweetie?” Miss A. snapped me out of my wandering thoughts as she wiped the teardrop away from my cheek and now held my chin firmly with one hand; looking worriedly into my eyes.
“What’s going on inside that pretty little head?” she tilted her head.
“I don’t miss it… I miss someone” I admitted just as I realized it myself.
“Oh dear” she continued to hold my face; her thumb pressing hard into my chin.
“He’ll be here soon” she changed the subject; looking at the silver watch adorning her pale wrist.
I swallowed. She finally released me and I gasped; only now knowing I had been holding my breath.
Who would be where, when?? I had completely forgotten.
…
I was sitting in the corner of her dining room.
She had instructed me to sit with my head bowed and my hands in my lap. (Not that I had a choice.)
Biscuits and tea was ready; two cups. One cup for Miss A., and another for the mystery man.
Miss A. was checking her trademark blood red nails pensively. She was trying to hide it but she was getting impatient.
He was late…
“I’ll need to use you to prove a few points to him. Don’t be alarmed” she turned her head to look at me.
I had been staring at her neck for a while; admiring her. The dress; that dark, dark green dress she was wearing gave me a good view of her back… it took me a while to snap out of it.
“Yes Miss A.” I answered before I had digested what she told me.
Don’t be what? Alarmed??
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already done enough to alarm me already.
She was a hard one to figure out.
But perhaps that was on purpose… she wanted to keep me guessing.
After an agonising wait he finally came.
He was eerie presence.
The man slithered into the room like a serpent. He was in a black suit and a grey tie; he walked with a slight hunch. The hunch seemed deliberate. He knew his own status but he seemed absolutely bored with the world around him.
No, not bored… bothered.
My heart was beating hard in my chest, trying to escape. He could only be bad news.
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