Hello! I am John Watson, an experienced doctor, recently returned from serving in Afghanistan. It wasn’t easy settling back into life at home, so my therapist suggested I look for a distraction. She suggested I keep a blog even though it made no sense to me. What would I write about? Nothing ever really happens to me.
Anyway, I write a blog now, about my adventures with my former flatmate at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes. I found the place thanks to an old friend, Mike Stamford. I had mentioned to him that I was alone, friendless and low on cash, looking for a place to stay. He introduced me to Sherlock who was an oddly interesting person right from the first “Hello.” Or wait, I doubt there was a “hello” at all. He chose instead, to blabber on about all he had deduced about me in the brief seconds we spent together in a police morgue. Anyway, Homes is a Consulting Detective. I’m convinced that he thought of the job title himself – vanity being one of his many qualities. But if you’ve done your research, you know by now that he isn’t a psychopath. He is a high-functioning sociopath. Ah, but there I go writing about Sherlock again, when this is about me. Or it is supposed to be at least.
So, I was in the army. And while I am a doctor, I have had my bad days. It’s not easy to dissociate the healer from the soldier at times. I returned wounded – a bullet in the shoulder and scars in my mind. And I had a limp. It went away pretty arbitrarily, I remember. It was the first time I went along to a crime scene with Sherlock. I chased after a taxi and left the cane behind, for good. Sherlock was right. The limp really was psychosomatic.
I work at a medical centre now. But I am often late for my appointments, tired from having worked the night before, helping Sherlock solve a case, or chase Chinese gangsters, or explore the wilderness that is heady with hallucinogenic mega-dogs. That one was close and scary. But Sherlock came through. He usually does.
Except that time that he died, and stayed dead for about two years. I am pretty sure I was more angry than happy when I saw him again. Those two years were difficult. Luckily, I met the love of my life and my wife, Mary Elizabeth Watson. She works as a nurse at the same centre as I. We are expecting a daughter, and whether the little one needs to know about her mum having once been a trained assassin of some sort is a conversation we are yet to have. My best friend is a crazy sociopath and my wife, an ex-assassin. Yes, I am incorrigible. Mycroft, Sherlock’s brother had once said to me that I am not haunted by the war, I miss it. I am starting to think he might have been right.
The truth is that my many adventures with Sherlock Holmes have given me something to look forward to. I mean that was till I met Mary – I really do love her and our baby. But you will have to admit that being a local GP does not cut it when you could be hanging out at Buckingham Palace instead. Though lying knocked-out under a bonfire on Guy Fawkes Night celebration is not a memory I’d like to relive. Sherlock, Mrs Hudson (our landlady at 221B Baker Street) and I have a cuckoo little family of our own, one we fiercely love and protect.
Last I met him, Sherlock was being scooted off to a dangerous MI6 mission in eastern Europe. It was certain death. But I have a strong feeling that this commission might have to be postponed. Something to do with the face of his nemesis, Jim Moriarty, flashing on every single TV screen in London just before Sherlock could take off.
However, that is far. I plan to spend all of 2016 making things work and being a little less pissed off with Mary (you know what with finding out that she was associated with the CIA and all). Also, devising a theory about where exactly did the suddenly un-dead Moriarty come from. I have a feeling you’ll be busy doing the same. But there’s more. Sherlock and I are due for a trip in the New Year. We’re taking a trip through time, all the way back to Victorian London. There is talk of the ghost of an abominable bride and Sherlock refuses to miss out on the action, however paranormal it may seem. Maybe I’ll blog about that too. See you guys later.