'I can smell their reactions when they hear I cut. Shock, revolution, fear, worry, anger. I do not understand. It helps me to feel. I am frustrated that I can't feel more for what I have done. I know I should. But I cannot cry. I just feel hollow'

Laura drew her legs up against her chest while she sat under the oak tree. She looked at her wrists. There were marks again, they left no impression like the many faceless people she had killed. Her fingers bunched up into fists and she rested her head on her knees.

'I cannot do this. I do not know how to ask for help.' She looked to where crowds of people were standing and laughing and chatting. 'How do I go forwards when I still have blank holes from my past'