Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Whipped	By : This_is_The_Phantom_Lady Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 3752 -:- 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
- 1
- 2
As I allowed the rusty steel blade to shift between my fingers I knew it was wrong. I knew it was wrong from the first time; a long, long time ago.… But just feeling the dull blade against my skin gave me that calm I was desperately seeking.
I wished there were other ways, but nothing worked just as well. This was all I had in this world.
It actually was; not just a figure of speech.
My private thoughts were interrupted by a well-known wet cough and sniffle.
“It’s going to be a cold night” she whispered to me. Macy passed me the bottle of disinfectant she stole the last time she was inside a hospital a few days ago. It burned my nose already but I took a sip and my face contorted painfully.
I rubbed my hands together; my muscle memory strong; remembering my daily routine at the hospital back home where I worked… cleaning my hands before, after or during assisting the good doctor.
“Thank you” my voice was raspy and my head felt so incredibly light. I slipped the blade into my pocket for safekeeping and leaned back against the icy brick wall behind me. Macy took another big gulp. I knew it was killing her eventually but Macy knew it too.
Macy stumbled back to the others. Much older than me, with a lifetime of this behind them. Being homeless… being in trouble and making it through day by day.
I didn’t think I could ever get used to this. Honestly. The smell, the dirty feeling… my hair always hung straight down and the natural shine had gone quickly... I used to love my hair… it had been my favourite feature.
I still made a habit of getting to a public restroom most mornings to wash my face and attempt to wash and comb my hair. I had stopped looking at myself in the mirror though. I didn’t want to know that dirty girl with hollow eyes… that girl who made such a stupid mistake and got stuck out here in the cold.
As I felt the cold air sting; catching the teardrop forming in the corner of my eye I stifled my emotions and focused on the blade in my pocket… letting my fingers trace over it… feeling the simple comfort in knowing it was there with me. My little friend in a big scary world.
I remember the night when the last of my cash was gone. I spent it on a pint of Guinness in a dead end pub somewhere and decided to tell the man who had insisted on sitting next to me about it.
I can still feel his hand on my thigh to this day; when he looked into my eyes and told me he could ‘help’ me; he could pay my ticket home. I don’t doubt what he wanted in return.
I slapped his cheek and walked out of there. My own cheeks burning with anger that he could suggest such a thing… what did he think I was?
The thing is... I didn’t have a home to return to. The day I left my native country the doors to my past were shut firmly behind me.
It never stopped nagging me. I often heard a snarling voice inside my head telling me it was a mistake and I brought this on myself… the voice wanting to force me to look at what I had become.
“Mira, you’ll freeze to death I swear… Come here” Macy’s kind voice called me over to the group. Macy was right… If we stayed close we could keep each other warm. The cold was enemy no. 1...
But it was the rank smell that held me back… I probably smelled just as bad, only having a few changes of equally dirty clothes and a faux fur coat to keep me warm.
I rose to my feet and felt faint instantly. The alcohol in the disinfectant liquid mixing with the other toxic ingredients not meant for human consumption but rather to keep hands clean was washing through me and I had a feeling my face was about to turn green.
It didn’t help either that I was momentarily blinded by headlights.
I blinked. I had seen that car before… always at night driving by slowly. I even caught a glimpse of the woman sitting in the back; she was staring back at me.
It was her.
She always looked at me as if she had seen a ghost and it made me stare back.
The car was soon gone and I went to sit with the others; eventually falling asleep.

…

I woke up to the smell of coffee and apples. I had barely opened my eyes before an apple was thrown at me to catch. A cup of steaming hot coffee was passed my way and I smiled. The apple went into my pocket so I could wrap both of my trembling hands around the cup containing the magical black liquid.
I always hated coffee and apples. But beggars can’t be choosers and this time I was utterly grateful.
“Thank you” my voice hadn’t yet woken up and I took a sip to help it along.
“Curtsy of Curly Hair” Dock told me. And I smiled. I hadn’t met him yet, Curly Hair, but he was always good to people like me… for a little bit of information he paid generously.
I saved the cup and we all went on our routes… I went to my usual place and put the empty cup on the ground next to me.
Begging… ugh. Never a proud moment for me but a necessary evil.
“You see a lot when no one sees you” it took me a while to register someone was talking to me. I heard a lot of people talking all day long but it was never to me. Most didn’t see me and the rest didn’t want to.
“Certainly” I looked up at a tall man in a long dark coat and a head of curly hair. Was this ‘Curly Hair’?
“Have you seen this woman?” he handed me a photograph along with a 50 pound note. My eyes widened as the money went into my pocket to stay with the apple and my little friend. This was definitely ‘Curly Hair’.
“Not the last couple of days… she’s the one with the zebra print coat, right?”. I let him know. He looked at me with open mouth.
“How many days?” he pushed on; turning eager. Time was of the essence obviously. “Is this your usual spot?”
“I saw her last on Friday… and yes it is…” I coughed and closed the faux fur tighter around me. With that he was gone.
As the day was ending I remembered Dock’s kindness with ‘Curly Hair’s cash. I got a bag of rolls and a bottle of cheap vodka and made it to our little home in the alley. Macy was there already and I greeted her with a silent smile.
I made her give me the bottle of disinfectant in return for the vodka and half of the cash that was left after my little shopping trip.
She cringed at me as I poured some on my hands and rubbed it in. To her it was a waste but to me it was heaven… I felt clean for a second.

…

I thought it would help. Feeling clean, but it only reminded me once again of what I had left behind…
I left the group for a bit, went to another darkened alley… I needed my fix. Dock, Karin and Jack usually took their ‘medicine’ in front of the rest of us and no one gave a damn… but this wasn’t a needle, I didn’t feel like they would understand me.
The blade was piercing the scarred skin on my arm and I felt how the world around me got quiet. My world became tiny; shrinking, there was only me there… I saw nothing. I heard nothing.
I didn’t even notice the car stopping. I had no idea she was there before she put her well manicured hand on my shoulder and I scattered to my feet startled. The metal falling from my grasp and I had to search for it in a panic… she picked it up and handed it to me; closing my hand safely around it. Her touch felt electric and my heart was in my throat.
I gawked at her for a minute or more. To me it felt like an eternity.
She was tall; dark luscious hair done up and piercing blue eyes. Her lips were blood red; mimicking the colour of the fresh blood running down my arm.
She wore a long black dress and looked to me like she had just stepped out of a fancy scene from a classic film.
It was the woman from the car; I realized!
“We should get you cleaned up, I bet you scrub up well don’t you?” I felt her finger softly caress my cheek; holding me at an arm’s length and I felt a strange calm… Usually I hated human touch; ever since…
Her voice felt like silk sliding across my skin; yet there was a hint of a condescending nature.
She seemed to be studying my features under the layer of grey that seemed to be clouding me constantly.
“Come” She simply told me.
She didn’t ask or offer… and come I did after I had put a dirty dressing on my cut; pulling it tight to stop the bleeding.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Whipped