CHAPTER 1

Okay, so this is going to be a rather long authors note, but please read it.

So first of all, I wasn't sure what to rate this story. There aren't really many Holby City stories about this subject, so I didn't really have much to base it on. So yeah, I apologise if you think I've got the rating wrong. Feel free to let me know.

Secondly, this story deals with some difficult subjects, mainly self harm, but quite possibly eating disorders later on. So if you feel you will be triggered by this, please don't read.

Also, there is some bad language in here. Sorry if that offends anyone, but consider yourselves warned. XD

Last, I apologise if this story seems disjointed in any way. It's really just me trying to gain some measure of control over myself. I've just found the first couple of chapters of this, and after relapsing after almost a month clean, I thought I'd write some more. I've got seven chapters written so far, all of which I'll put up tonight for you. I'll admit, I'm not sure if I'll finish this or not, or even where it's going, but I needed to vent, and I thought I'd share it with you all. Constructive criticism is still more than welcome. Also, I apologise if the characters seem out if character in any way, but once again, I was just venting.

Anyway, I think that's enough of me going on. So from hereon in, I'll try to leave you to it. XD

Finally she'd managed to get a break. She had been due one two hours ago, but an emergency had come in from the ED, and Sacha had dragged her into theatre to assist. As soon as they were finished, Zosia had run straight into the toilets and locked herself in a cubicle.

She sat on the toilet seat, and pulled a small piece of tissue out of her pocket. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself down. She had about 15 minutes before anyone started to wonder where she was, and that was plenty of time for what she had to do. She started to unroll the tissue, and in the middle, carefully wrapped up was her razor blade. She picked it up, and rolled up her left sleeve. The long sleeves hid dozens of scars, from her elbow down to her wrist. And dotted amongst the old scars, new cuts, bright red against her pale skin. Zosia placed the blade against her arm, and pulled it sharply towards her. As the blade sliced through her skin, she could feel herself start to relax. In the moment of serenity that followed, she forgot about everything that had happened that day. Guy trying once again to justify what happened with her mother, Sacha forcing her into theatre, Serena having a go because she forgot to update a drugs chart.

Just thinking about her day made Zosia feel so much worse, and each new cut got progressively deeper.

"Shit!" Zosia whispered to herself as she clamped a hand over the last, and deepest, cut she made. There were bandages in her locker, but she could hardly go back onto the ward like this. What if someone noticed?

After a few minutes, Zosia decided she would have to risk it. She pulled a large pile of toilet roll off the holder, pressed it to her arm and the rolled down her sleeve. Standing up and taking yet another deep breath, Zosia walked out of the cubicle and onto the ward.