If you had told me that I would be working with the person I've looked up to my entire life, I'd say you were bonkers.
I tapped on the plastic keyboard, the woodpecker like tapping being the only noise in the quiet room that I now called my own. The room was rather plain for my tastes, but then again this was coming from the boy that had spent his whole life in a room covered in posters and pictures. By surrounding myself in the bright merchandise and memories I hoped that maybe one day I could live in them. I had always dreamed of becoming the main character in a mystery novel, just as my idol was in my own. Being alone for so long would send most people crazy, but in my time I did constructive things, for example writing stories about the girl that had saved my life all those years ago.
As the memory faded and I was met with the dull walls of my new room, I let a smile come to my lips. I was missing my comfortable surroundings, no doubt about it, but this room, the one the person just down the hallway had supplied, it all felt so right. My hands went to busy themselves, fiddling with the papers on my desk, the only things that had survived the move. They were nothing important, just old scraps of newspapers I had saved over the years in my secluded state. After piling them up in different orders and fanning them out of the smooth wooden surface my hand rested on one article in particular. This was the newest one in my collection; it hadn't been ripped and torn like all of the others. It was also the one that got the pieces moving in the game called my life.
'Jayden Holmes, killed by Constance Watson when he started to threaten her position as the best detective in the world'
It was propaganda rubbish, but so were all of these articles. I had learned to read past the propaganda and find out the true facts for my fansite. 'I remember that day like it was yesterday'.
It had been a normal day for me. I had woken up at noon after an empty sleep filled with nightmares of my past. Yawning I sat up, running my sweaty hand through my messy dark chocolate hair. My legs pulled up into a pretzel as I worked to calm down my racing heartbeat. I kept my eyes closed as I listened out for the knock I knew would be at my door any second now.
"Mr Holmes?" I heard right on cue, "I've left your food and newspaper downstairs on the table, so I'm off home now." This came from my maid, she didn't like the job, I could tell she didn't, but who could blame her? No one really wants to work as the babysitter to a 17 year old who stayed at home, hiding from his past all his life. I knew she only took this job so that she could have enough money to feed her children; I appreciated that and even slipped her a tip whenever I could but it didn't change her attitude towards me.
Sighing as I heard the front door click into place I pulled myself out of my comfortable bed. Finally I opened my brown eyes and looked around my room, 'what a mess' I thought to myself as I spotted all the pieces of paper and books scattered across my hazel carpet. On unsteady feet I stumbled across the misplaced objects to reach my door. I turned the golden doorknob; pulling the door open and creeping out, never letting my guard down. My eyes ran around the house as my ears searched for the smallest of sounds. When all I could hear was my own heavy breathing I descended down my carpeted stairs determined to reach my prize. As my naked feet connected with the marble floor a shiver ran up my body, 'she always forgets to put the heating on'.
With my feet firmly on the ground I felt slightly more relaxed. I made my way into the dining room like a normal human being. The smell of toast invaded my nose making my mouth water, I always had a love for cooked bread, I didn't know what it was about it but it just made my mind go blank. Trying to act civilised I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down before picking up the butter covered delight. As I sunk my teeth in I felt all the tension in my body drain out, it was strange how one bite of the delicious treat could relax me so easily. Once both slices were safely inside my digestive system I drunk the glass of orange juice, letting out a sigh and allowing a smile to sneak onto my face.
This was what happened every morning. I would come downstairs, eat, get dressed into my normal suit and tie before going out around town to buy some simple supplies. I was always running out of paper. The lady behind the counter always joked with me saying things like 'you're eating it aren't you?' I smiled kindly at her in return with every joke. However, today something changed. Just as I finished getting dressed there was a knock at my door.
*knock knock knock knock knock, knock knock*, who could that possibly be? It's nowhere near Valentine's Day or any other holiday for that matter. I walked down the stairs, my confusion masking my fear as I picked up the umbrella I kept by the front door for protection. "Hello?" I said as I opened the door, my eyes widening as I realised who it was.
"Hello there, Jayden Holmes isn't it?" a pretty girl said sending a smile my way, "I'm your new maid." The grey haired girl informed me as she walked inside, her bright white and red canvas shoes making little to no sound. As I was still shocked she must have turned back to me and shut the door with her foot, a swishing sound was made as the long coat she wore hit against her blue jeans. "Not going to say anything? Suits me fine, I prefer it when people don't ask questions". I had so many questions I wanted to ask, but no voice to say them. Clearing my throat I kicked my senses back into gear, spinning to face this girl with my mouth wide, but of course no sound came out. I felt frozen as my eyes met her blue one.
"I-I… what are you-" I started.
"Doing here? I already told you, I'm your new maid."
"What? No, you cannot be your-you are…"
She chuckled at me holding a hand over her mouth which wore a fingerless glove, "Ah, so even people like you have heard of me? I was kind of hoping that I wouldn't have to force my services onto you, but I guess if you're going to put up a struggle I'll have no choice."
"Huh? Oh! You mean how most people of my class, um, don't appreciate your work," I deduced.
I spotted a sparkle of amusement in her icy eye as she walked further into my house, although she never stopped facing me, all the time she walked backwards, making her way into my kitchen. "You are an interesting individual Mr Holmes. So you have heard of me. How much have you heard? Obviously not enough if you're not trying to shove me into a gutter." What didn't I know about her? I guess you could call me a…fanboy of sorts. In my loneliness I had searched the web for the girl who had saved my life as a child. As soon as I found her name I felt like I needed to find her again, if only just to thank her and apologise. Ever since that first encounter she had been what I had based all my stories on, all of my artwork; I even created a website about her which had been gaining a lot more viewers lately. Nevertheless I couldn't explain all this too her, this was the first time we had met properly and I hadn't even been able to form a flowing sentence.
"I've heard plenty" I replied after what was probably an awkward silence, I was always spacing out, it had got me into trouble more times then I'd like to count.
The grey haired lady took a seat at the table pulling out a rubber along with two folded pieces of paper from her large coat. I walked around the table aiming to take a seat opposite her; however I couldn't help but investigate her further on my journey. On her face covering her left eye were bandages and sat neatly on her nose was a waterproof plaster, I had heard rumours about her having face injuries, but before now I had never really found any evidence of those rumours being anything but more propaganda nonsense trying to get her hated even more. Her top half was covered by a men's white dress shirt which was left un-tucked where it met her baggy jeans.
Once I had taken my seat I took a chance to look at one of the pieces of paper which was now unfolded. It was a wanted poster, with my face on it. I knew these things had been around for ages now, but this was the first time I had seen one up-close. "So Mr Holmes, what are you planning to do about this wanted poster?" she asked her head tilting to side making some grey hair fall into her face.
"What do you mean? Nothing I guess, they have been around for years and no one has come to get me yet… wait, why am I talking to you at all? You just barge in my house and expect me to tell you my life story? Well no dice little missy" I told her trying to act cool; I knew from articles that she would get bored if I didn't put up a fight.
Chuckling she replied, "Calm down cool guy, I already know your life story so there's no need for you to spill your guts. All I'm saying is what are you going to do about this little death threat?"
With a sigh I admitted, "I have no idea. Really I did not think anything needed to be done."
Rolling her eyes she said "You're even more of an idiot then I remember," well that was unaccepted, "A death threat is a serious thing, don't make the same mistake as your parents and just brush it off."
"Wait, why did you-"
"Shut up. You're annoying me," I tensed up, that was no request that was an order "I've already had to save you once in your lifetime, now I'm doing it again, so try to be grateful that I'm sticking my neck on the line to help you out." Now I understood why she got so much bad publicity, this is not how you treat someone if you want them to trust you with their life. We both stared at each other. I tried to convey all my thoughts but I could tell she wasn't getting them, she stayed with the same unchanging expression, her mouth set in a straight line.
Another knock on the door broke the silence. "Mr Holmes? I've left my keys in there, won't you let me in?" the voice of my maid called. With a sigh I stood up and walked around the table, however as I went to leave the room a leather hand gripped my wrist and wrenched me backwards until I found myself sitting on a wooden chair. I looked up at the girl I idolised with confusion. Her eye was narrowed sending off hatred which was aimed for the person on the other side of the door. With a gesture she explained that I should go into the cupboard. In any other case I would have argued that it was indecent for a man like me to hide in a cupboard. Still, she brought her index finger to her lips showing that I should remain silent. I couldn't find it in my heart to argue with her, or disobey her orders so I followed them, crawling into the cupboard.
As soon as the door was closed and I was plunged into darkness I heard the front door open.
"Where is he?" I heard a deep voice grumble.
"Don't play dumb, the kid, the one that hasn't left this house since you saved his life ten years ago."
"Oh! That one…" there was a long silence before I heard anyone speak again, "I've already killed him."
"You heard me. He was a waste of life and space; I should have let him die when I had the chance so I finished the job."
"You, you, how dare you? HOW DARE YOU?!"
"No need to yell, it won't solve anything."
"Where's the body?" the maid asked.
"I've already sent it off; I've already collected the money. Now, I have a few things I need from this place whereas there's nothing left here for you, why don't you run along? I'm sure the kids will be missing there mother."
There was a long silence followed by a scream and the sound of heels on the driveway. As soon as I heard the door click shut I fell out of the cupboard, my heart heavy. "Nice job kiddo," she complimented ruffling my hair, "I've got to get going, they shouldn't bother you again."
She turned and walked towards the door, my heart felt like it was shattering into pieces as she did, "W-wait!" I cried out making her stop, "Di-did you mean what you said? About me being a waste of space?" I heard a sigh from her end as she backed up and came face to face with me again.
"Listen boy, I'm not the kind of person to sugar coat anything so I'm not going to lie. Yes, I think currently you're wasting your life, you know who your ancestors were, why not use that blood in your veins?" She shifted over and picked up the rubber along with the paper underneath it. "I know you're not very good at making decisions so use this. Call me if you get in trouble again" she tried to make her escape again.
"Now what? I got lots of people's lives to start."
"How do I start living properly again? I have not lived like a used to in so long, I am not even sure I can."
With a sigh she said "It's not that hard, just think of life as being one big game of luck. You got dealt one of the best hands in the beginning, but didn't use up your cards in time. When things got too much for you, you simply pressed the pause button and went off into your isolation. Just unpause and let the luck lead the way."
"Wait." I stopped her before she had the chance to run.
"What is it now? Seriously Holmes, I am this close to making a run for it."
"You never introduced yourself."
She let out a laugh before stating "My name's Constance Watson. And I am the best detective this world has ever seen, as well as the most hated one."
My fingers danced across the keys as I finished typing up my story. "Bloody hell, it still does not sound realistic" I cursed rubbing my chocolate hair. "Just once I would like to write a good story" I complained deleting all of my hard work. With a yawn I decided to go and bother my new partner in crime for a bit before bed. I practically skipped down the hallway to reach my partner's room. Knowing that she would still be awake at this ridiculous hour planning our trip which was in a little under ten hours I tapped lightly on her door, pushing it open a second later.
I was met with the strong smell of coffee and sweets as I took a step inside. "What do you want Jayden?" she asked in a monotone voice. She had her back to me whilst she sat on a beanbag with a large drawing pad on her lap and a blue pencil in the other. Somehow she always knew it was me, it kind of dented my confidence that I had built up in the past five years.
"I was just hoping for some inspiration."
"So you still haven't written that story yet?" 'Dammit, she figured it out already?'
"What is it to you?"
She let out a sigh as she answered "I've already explained to you the problem," quick as a flash she stood up and stepped in front of me, "your main heroine isn't the heroine type. The heroine needs to be loved by everyone and has to be the hero's definition of perfect."
"Hey! My heroine is perfect thank you very much."
Rolling her eyes she replied, "Sure, keep telling yourself that. I'm sure with the production rate and storyline of your novel it'll be a worldwide seller by the time you're eighty because it's won a Nobel peace prize for sending all the evil in the world to sleep."
I gasped holding my chest as if I had been mortally wounded, "That hurt Connie, that hurt deep."
"I'll be hurting you on the surface if you call me by that name again." She threatened with a smirk that said 'try me'.
Our relationship sure had changed over the years; we had become what I would call good friends even if she would never admit it. She said that showing emotion like that was a sign of weakness that her enemies could use against her, 'and I thought I was the paranoid one'. My whole personality had changed as well, I was a lot more confident and outspoken, as well as a little bit wiser. Yet, the thing that I had noticed the most was my looks. I had matured a lot, becoming a man was something I enjoyed watching. My eyes went to Constance as she sat back down and took a sip of her coffee. 'She has not changed a bit'. Her appearance hadn't changed at all, not even with all the sweets and coffee she was still the same size and weight. It was almost like she was frozen in time somehow, watching everyone else's lives end before her eyes.
"Jayden, you're zoning out again." She informed me, even without seeing her face I could hear her smirk.
Sending a glare her way I decided to leave the room so that I could zone out in my bed which would hopefully result in me falling asleep. We were travelling to France tomorrow which I always hated. It was a beautiful country don't get me wrong, but the girls, they throw themselves over you like it's no tomorrow. I guess it's that way in a lot of countries, but I just notice it more in France for some reason. With a sigh I flopped down on my bed looking to my left as I drifted off. The last thing I saw before I fell unconscious was the portrait of my parents I kept with me wherever we went. 'I am almost there mother, father, I promise I will find him'.