I woke up very confused and having no idea where I was. It was rather bright and I really needed some water. Strange, I thought, I have been waking up like this a lot lately. Also, my comforter seems awfully heavy this morning. Guess I just have morning-itus. I reached my hands up to my eyes and rubbed them around to clear the sleep. After doing this, I fully opened them and saw my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the ceiling was extremely high. Then, it all came back. My eyes widened as I recalled last nights memories:
Sherlock saw me. The real me. Crying. Holding. Sleeping. Soon, the fear crashed back down on me. I looked down and saw my comforter was not a comforter. It was a hand. A colossal human hand. Sherlock's colossal human hand. Not only that, but I was on his chest. His colossal human chest. How did I get on his chest and under his hand? Well, at least he's wearing a shirt. I tried to recall all of last nights memories and not just a few moments of it. But, I couldn't.
I gulped and decided that I needed to get out of here. Maybe he'll forget this all happened? Wait, of course he'll remember! He's a detective with perfect memory. Great. I gulped once more and started pushing myself from under his hand. Luckily, he didn't wake up. I crawled off his chest on all fours and made my way to the edge of the bed. There was an indentation where the mattress met the boards of the bed. I needed to hop down there and then jump to the floor. After that, I would head to a hole that I had made in the wall behind the bedside table. Let's do this.
          I hopped down onto the ledge then jumped to the floor. Nice landing, if I do say so myself. I brushed myself off and walked towards the hole.
"Where are you going?" I heard a loud voice ask. I immediately knew who it was. I froze mid-step. I didn't dare look up knowing I would loose my confidence seeing Sherlock's huge face. Instead, I broke into a run and made my way under the bed. "Carrie, wait!" I ran to one of the legs of the bed and hid behind it. I peeked out of my hiding spot and saw two giant feet meet the floor. Then two giant knees. Then two giant hands. Then one huge face with those green eyes to die for appeared. He scanned under the bed, squinting. Then, his eyes met mine. "There you are!" One of his hands came out from under him and reached toward me. I shrieked and ran behind the bedside table just before his hand touched me. "Carrie, don't tell me something's wrong again." I was pretty sure he could see my feet still. But, at this point, I didn't care. I hardly ever used this entrance anyway, so I didn't care if he saw me leave. I walked toward it and put one foot in it. "So that's how you got into my apartment," I heard him say before I ran as far as I could.

          I was running as fast as I could. I was putting as much distance between me and Sherlock. I was going to my room. Luckily, the trip was only about five minutes. As soon as I got to my house, I rushed right in and quickly shut the door right behind me. I slid down the door onto my butt and stared at the living room in front of me. Suddenly, the daily food that Krissy had promised me appeared on my doorstep. I glared at it. I didn't think it was Krissy's fault that all this stuff happened; I thought it was the food's fault, side-effects and all. I stood and stomped over to it. I glared at it for a few more seconds before I kicked out over. I wanted so bad to punch it and maybe burn it, but I decided just to leave it at someone's doorstep later. I sighed and walked up to my room above the kitchen and living room.
As soon as I arrived in my room, I walked over to my bed and sat down. I was confused and scared. I hugged my legs into my chest and let some fresh tears roll down my face. I didn't make much nose, in fear of Sherlock hearing me through the walls. I wasn't sure if he was sitting on the couch or not, but I didn't want to risk it. I sat there in my still ripped pajamas and thought. I though about the day I first saw Sherlock until the day I met him for real. I stopped there because I remembered something. The book. The book we bought together. I had no idea where it was. I completely forgot. I needed to find it before Sherlock did. If he hadn't already. I stood and got on a dress made out of some old blue curtains. It was one of my favorites because it was the best for carrying borrowing supplies.
As soon as I finished dressing, I ran to the opening under the refrigerator.

I stood in front of the opening to the small hole in the wall, listening. I wanted to make sure Sherlock wasn't still around. I couldn't hear anything. It was so silent a human could hear a pin drop. A pin drop is actually kind of loud in a borrower's ears. I couldn't see Sherlock, so maybe he had left. I gulped and stepped out into the apartment. I was sandwiched between the refrigerator and the side of the counter. I took three steps and, being clumsy, slipped on nothing and fell. I didn't let a noise escape out of my mouth because I had trained myself to be silent when I get hurt so a being wouldn't hear me. I began to stand when I heard a door creak as if being pushed open wider and loud footsteps slamming against the floor. Loudly. Running. With his stupid perfect hearing, he must've heard me fall. I quickly stood and raced back to the entrance just in time to hear Sherlock slide to a stop outside. I heard movement. I stayed and listened. I could hear Sherlock still panting breath despite him being at least two feet away because of the counter and fridge in the way.
He must've stayed frozen for a minute or two before he let out a deep sigh. His breath stopped short in the middle of it though. I heard more movement. I needed to see what was going on, so I peeked out enough for me to see the fridge, but not enough for Sherlock to see me. I saw his hand moving under the refrigerator. His hand was moving toward something under the fridge and by its shape, it looked like-- my book.
I had to stifle a scream. NO. NO. NO. I didn't want him to see that book. He would use it against me somehow. I wasn't exactly sure how, but he would do it. He pulled it from under the fridge and I couldn't see what happened next, but I think he figured it out because I heard a slightly louder intake of breath. I heard more movement and saw his feet under the fridge. He was heading to his room. I was going to follow him.
    I ran all the way to the entrance I had exited his room from this morning. As soon as I made it and looked out of it, I stopped short. There was something in front of me. And you wouldn't believe what it was.