"I don't see why mummy bothers in hiring new tutors; they are all so incredibly dull and stupid."

This wouldn't be the first time one has run out red-faced and cursing. "Damn the money", they say. It's not my fault they're useless.

Mycroft huffs out in annoyance, prim and proper in his new suit. Trying to impress father? Prat. I sigh heavily. Bored. Pushing back from the table, I stand and button my jacket, hands brushing off invisible dust. "Well I'm off now. No point in staying. Afternoon Mycroft."

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Out."

"Mummy won't be pleased."

I look over my shoulder, smirking, "When is she ever?"

/

It's well past midnight now and I'm still wandering in the woods by the manor. Interesting things out here.

Mycroft disapproves.

Which makes this so much more fun.

No doubt Mummy will have a new tutor tomorrow. I don't see why, they never last. What makes the next one any more different? They all end up hating me. It's not my fault I can see that their husband is cheating on them or they have been stealing from us. I can't shut it off.

I. Can't. Stop. Thinking.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a cigarette. Lighting it, I watch the burning flakes drift off before I take a deep drag. Should head back now, experiment almost ready. Blowing out the smoke, I watch it melt away in the air. Ugh, low tar, bloody Mycroft. Hmm, I'm roughly 20 minutes away from the grounds. Surprising that he hasn't sent out Aiden to fetch me back.

I turn on my heel, dragging in another lungful of chemicals. Humming to myself, I flick off the ashes from the end. Burned and dark gray. Black. I can see the manor from the edge of the woods and father's light is on. Fuck. The fire licks at my fingers, cigarette forgotten. Oh fuck, fuck. Ouch. I drop it to the ground and smother it out. He wasn't to be home until Saturday. I swear if Mycroft told him about today.

No, that's not enough to bring him back home.

Oh.

So maybe I have taken it a bit far with the tutors. But really mummy, telling father? Most really be desperate for me to "behave".

/

Walking inside, I head to the stairs leading down to the basement. A shadow falls over the floor.

Damn it.

I straighten up, fingers twitching. "Hello father, you're home early. Special reason?"

"Sherlock, why don't you come into my office for just a moment?"

"I'd rather not father," I yawn loudly and rub the back of my head, wincing at the feel of my burned fingers rubbing against my hair, "I'm tired you see, have a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

"Now, Sherlock"

I click my heels together and mock salute, "Yes sir!"

I'm going to regret that later. Somehow.

/

"Your mother tells me that you have run out 10 different tutors this month alone."

"I'm sure she did. What else did she tell you?"

"Don't talk back to me Sherlock. Now tomorrow you will have a new tutor and you will behave. Do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

I ignore him after that. New mistress, much younger, by 10 years? Only staying for the night and will be gone before dawn. Of course.

"How did you meet this one?"

He falters midsentence, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh you heard me. The new woman, how did you meet this one?" I scratch lazily at my arm. "That's the only thing I can't get, so tell me. I'm sure it was an enthralling tale."

"I don't know what you are talking about but I think we are done here. You may go now."

Brilliant. I stretch out, yawning loudly. "Well it was lovely talking to you father, hope to see you soon. Mycroft will be pleased you come home." I bow slightly and walk out, smirking at the look of outrage on his face. Oh am I going to pay for this but it's incredibly fun teasing him like this. Most fun I've had all day.

/

I run the hot water as I strip off my clothes. Once it's filled, I step in and slide down, submerging myself. I open my eyes and stare through the watery haze to the ceiling.

There is still some of the mold I tried growing two months ago.

/

BORING.

Bored.

God, how do people live like this?

/

Mummy and Father are at it again.

/

"Take some control over your bloody son!"

"He's your son to you know! I'm not the one who went off with that trollop years ago and Sherlock somehow just knew! It's your fault he's like this."

"Oh don't give me that rubbish. This marriage was ruined long before he opened his mouth to you."

/

I wonder how long until I can get my hands on some Hydrofluoric Acid.

Ah.

Delete.

/

Approximately 4 hours until daybreak.

Father will be gone is 3.

/

He has left.

A hour early this time.

/

Mummy is crying.

/

I'm sorry.

/

Delete.