I Can Think Like Sherlock Holmes

{first off, I want to say that I took off part of the title that I was going to include originally--"kind of". Got that? OK. Good. ;)}

*I come up the stairs, staying silent as the house is quiet. I didn't like this quiet. It either meant that I was the only one home (which, if that was the case, why had they left me?), or everybody had been killed by a serial killer. Or, maybe, some were gone and some were still asleep. It was only seven o'clock in the morning.

As it was highly unlikely that anybody had been killed by a serial killer that morning in our house, I started to search for a note. If my parents were gone, my mom would've left a note. She always did, if she was leaving the house early in the morning before she could tell somebody where they were going. I looked around, but didn't find one. I checked the fridge, the table, and the counter, and just about everywhere else.

Nothing.

Hmm.

Next, I went outside on the porch. All cars were still here. Interesting. That could only mean one thing... I headed back into the house.

I remembered, faintly, that my parents had said that they were going to go somewhere early in the morning. Which meant that there could only be one rather easy solution to all of us.

My parents had already gone and already made it back. That's why the cars were all here. If they had left a note, they would have already thrown it out by now. It was quiet, because everybody was sleeping--my siblings because it was in the morning and they didn't have to wake up, my parents back they had had to wake up really early to go somewhere and had just gotten back.

Feeling happy, I settled myself onto a stool at the counter and poured myself a big pull of cheerios.

"Well, that was easy," I smiled.

*A story made up by me. Should not, in any way, be considered real. Yes, the main character, for this story, was based off me. How lovely. I love cheerios. <3

I can think like Sherlock Holmes.

Kind of.

This all came about from reading the Enola Holmes mystery series, mind you. It really wasn't my fault. The book series sent me off.

So what on earth did I really do?

Well, simply, Watson, I decided that, instead of asking people and bothering people or just forgetting about it, I would just slow down and try to figure out what had really happened. And, actually, the end was rather satisfying. I was surprised at how easy it was to find things out just by using my poor little brain. (by the way, hope you don't mind being called "Watson"; I quite understand that you're not a robust Englishman but, for the sake of this post, you'll have to forgive me...)

I did it again this morning. It was quite fun. Mostly what I did was see what I could deduct from what I saw, and what everything indicated, and then went and checked out my suspicions. (gee, now I'm really starting to sound like the man... Sherlock Holmes, I mean... "deduct"? "Suspicions"? This definitely doesn't sound like me... wait, does it?!)

It was rather fun, actually. Because sometimes I feel really stupid. (I have plenty of face palm moments.... most of them are in my head and I imagine the words *face palm* hahaha ;D) But when you get to do that... man, it's fun! Makes you feel smart. (even without the black geeky 3D glasses that everyone takes home from the theater and starts acting like they're real and actually cool... actually, sometimes they're just fun to wear and pretend you're geeky and smart ;P Anybody else ever done that???)

It was especially fun when, reading the Enola Holmes series, that I started to guess things before she did. (I love that when that happens. Especially in movies. Like the Sherlock Holmes movies with Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit in it?? We watched one episode, got kind of freaked out from some of the content, but that's not the point. The point is we were like yelling at Sherlock, "IT'S HIM!!! HE'S THE BAD GUY!!" while Sherlock had it all wrong. Urgh. That was annoying. He almost let the bad guy get away!!!!!) Of course, some of this was because I'd read the series before and I started remembering some of the stuff... but not always. Ah, I love it when that happens; when I guess it before they do. Makes you feel more like Sherlock. haha =D

Have you ever felt like Sherlock Holmes? Or do you feel more like Watson, always confused by what's going on? I actually tend to feel more like Watson, but I do so love those times when, strangely, I find myself thinking like Sherlock Holmes, making ideas and thinking of ways that all of this could possibly fit together before going and seeing if I'm right...

I'll catch ya'll later.

Be a hero,
Anna