Gloucester ,England.

Samantha was just walking in the door when she heard a loud voice over the intercom. "Samantha, please report to Dr. Lip-man's office. Sighing she ran a hand through her hair, and walked in the do goes office in her blue scrubs, and a purse over her shoulder. Her scrubs were the bright blue of the hospital, and her hair was neatly half down and half up.

She takes a right down a long hallway, reaching a door on the very end and left, that had "Dr. Gregory James Lipton" written in a deep shade of brown, on a glass that made everything in the room look fuzzy. Samantha grabbed the door knob, and twisted it ever so gently.

"Doctor, I am sorry I was late. I just arrived at the hospital."

She nervously came in shutting the door behind her and sitting in a leather bound chair in front of his desk. He had case files out, and Samantha knew that she was here to organize a schedule. She quickly grabbed out her pen a pad of notebook paper that had her name at the top in cursive on every page.

Ali sat in a rather uncomfortable chair his feet propped against a table he was watching the nurses unpack his things, of course they wouldn't find anything. Nothing that could be used to self harm or harm others. His razors were very well hidden, in the spines of books that could only be pulled out by the cloth bookmarks that most of Ali's books had, he had to keep up apperances that he was coping well with knowing that the world was out to get him. Smaller razors were hidden in the fold of jeans, in the soles of his shoes and after a few days he was sure he would find a new hiding spot in his room, perhaps in the bed or behind the dresser. The list was endless.

He watched as they looked through his art supplies, checking his paints and brushes as well as his drawing pencils, they took away his sharpener off course. They seemed confused when they pulled out a set of dumbells. " I'm afraid you can't keep these.." One of the staff members began. Ali stood up quickly striding over to the staff member " What did you say?" " I said I'm afraid you can't keep these in here, but you can use them when you can go outside. You will have to talk to Dr. Lipman, to see if you can have them some where else"

Ali couldn't help but chuckle to himself " you really think I'm going to ask a random person for my weights back when I have brought them from my own pocket. But hey I'll conform to your doctors rules for the short while I will be here" Ali pushed passed the nurse grabbing his sketch book and pencils as well as his iPod. Swearing in italian as he left.

He walked around the house for a while getting a feel for the place, finding a room with a window seat he sat down putting on his music he began to draw.

A black town car pulled up to Cherry Oakes. A small, thin girl got out slowly with the help of her father who towered over her. The driver walked around to the back and opened the trunk. He listened to the girl speaking to her father quietly. "Why do I have to come here? There's nothing wrong with me!" He heard. The father didn't say a word and just led her up to the front of the building. He followed close with her suitcases.

Roseabelle made her way slowly to the tall doors. It was hard for her to walk quickly because she was so weak. Her father had forced her to eat this morning. Rosea felt sick from eating earlier. She waited for someone to come to the door.

A couple of nurses greeted them and led them to her room. They brought out a wheelchair for her so she could rest. Her father spoke quietly to the nurses so Rosea couldn't hear. Soon they were in her room looking through her things. She sat in a soft low chair in the corner. Rosea didn't like the amount of people near her.

The nurses took away her phone and laptop. No outside communication was one of the stupid rules she had to follow. Once they were finished invading her privacy she waved goodbye to her father. The nurses left her to herself.

Rosea breathed slowly and made her way over to her bathroom. The tile was cold and the small room smelled of bleach. She kneeled in front of the toilet and gagged. Her breakfast went down the pipes and the pale girl stood at the sink. She splashed some water on her face and decided to wander around the halls.

She went barefoot down the wooden hall. Her hand trailed the pale walls. They were rough and cold. She used the wall to support herself as she walked weakly.

' No need to worry Samantha. I just need a few meeting arranged with new patients. I have a pretty hectic schedule with the press... I might need you to do the initial background reading on them... you know basic questions, getting to know them? I trust that won't be a problem for you. Of course any problems just throw them my way'

Samantha sighed a sigh of relief as he so casually waved off her first late in a while. She nodded, listening as the doctor spoke.

"So.. you want me to go and get to know an 'Ali DeGari' who is supposively suffering from depression, and a girl named 'Roseabelle Young' who has an eating disorder, doctor?"

Samantha scratched the back of her neck with her pencil, as she had scanned the folders and his notes. She knew Dr. Lipman favored her a little more than the other staff, as she was the one most constant in his office.

"No sir, it shouldn't be a problem." She muttered, standing up, and brushing her pants legs off, then heading to the door. "Be back soon." She sighed, and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Samantha went straight to the front desk where she learned Mr. DeGari was in the process of being checked in, and they were just taking Ms. Young to her quarters. Then, she looked up, and saw a girl, sickly thin, trailing the walls, as she walked weakly. Samantha walked towards her, a warm smile on her face, as she held Roseabelle's case file.

"Hey, you're Roseabelle, right? I'm Samantha, and will be here to help you." She smiled, and stopped a foot away, in case the girl tried to retreat to her room.

Rosea was spaced out in her own world thinking about what may happen to her being here. Then she heard a woman approach her cautiously.

"Hey, you're Roseabelle, right? I'm Samantha, and will be here to help you." The woman smiled as she spoke to her. Rosea looked at her for a few moments.

"Yes, my name is Roseabelle, nice to meet you Samantha." She wasn't sure whether or not to trust this new face Samantha. She seemed alright at least for now. Rosea decided to slowly take a few steps back.

The little girl confirmed Samantha's suspicion, and stepped back. Samantha got on her knees, and held up Roseabelle's picture. "You're really pretty in this picture." It was a picture of her before she stopped eating. "My job is to get you back there. So, you'll be even prettier than you are now, sweetie." Samantha smiled warmly. "Now, when you need me.." Samantha held out a small buzzer. It was basically just a small red button. "When you need me, you'll press that red button right there, and no matter what I'm doing, I'll be here in a few minutes." Samantha looked down at her hand that held the button. "Go on."

Rosea watched the young woman carefully. She got on her knees and rifled through a folder. Was that her name? She thought suspiciously.

She watched Samantha show her am old photo of her. Rosea was about 11, her hair up for ballet practice. She remembered it was right before her teacher had told her those very words that made Rosea think. She heard Samantha call the girl in the picture pretty. This made Rosea tear up a little. She balled her fists and bit down on her cheek. She had hated looking at that picture.

Without showing emotion Rosea just stared at Samantha. Then she handed her the button. Rosea took it from her hand and held it loosely. She then started walking slowly backwards to her room. Without letting her eyes move from Samantha's she opened her door and stepped inside. Then broke her gaze and closed the door. As soon as she had shut her door from further connection with Samantha, she looked at the button. Samantha's words echoing in her head about getting her back. She shook her head angrily and threw the button on the chair in the corner. She looked at it glaring. There was no way she was going to be like that again.

Rosea started to practice her ballet in her room. Using the wall as a bar. The silence soothing to her and the words from Samantha fading. Rosea was back in peace.

Samantha watched the girl look at the picture, and hate form in her eyes. "Roseabelle?" Samantha asked, but stood, and walked back to the counter, getting all she needed for the doctor as he requested. Next was Mr. Degari.

"Hmm.." She leafed through the folder in her hand, and looked at the picture. Reading about him, she could almost relate in a way, but shook it off, and walked down the hall.

Ali had abandoned his drawings for a while an incomplete sketch of a pirate with a metal arm made out of cogs and metal pipes, on the paper. He was examining a gap between the wall and the cushioned chair, the cushion did not come away from the chair but there was a piece of wood that lifted up ever so slightly. There was a small hole there, small enough to fit pills, so they could be hidden easily.

He stared out of the windows the music in his ears slowly fading, the sound of his own heartbeat was present above the rapid drum beat and screaming vocals. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it sharply a couple of tears cascaded down his cheeks. He furiously wiped his tears away with his sleeve. This happened sometimes, a feeling of desperation of exhaustion like everything was just to much. It really was, things just got to hard to even bother caring.

Samantha soon decided to look for her next patient. She started at his room.

Knocking softly on the door, she squeaked it open. "Mr. DeGari?" Nope. She walked around, until she found what seemed to be an empty room. "Mr. DeGari? There you are." She smiled, and started to walk towards him, but flashed her head down, as if she didn't or hadn't noticed his tears. "Is it alright if I ask you a few questions regarding your stay here? Please?" Samantha looked up then, and had a happy smirk to her face, and tapped her fingers nervously on the files.

Ali folded his arms against himself pulling his hood over his head, he rubbed his forehead and looked over as a young woman approached him holding a clipboard. Oh great another person to bother him with pointless questions, he would play along for now and answer he dumb questions. Keeping his arms folded he nodded.

" Sure I'll answer your questions, Io non ci sto lungo comunque ( I'm not staying long anyway)" he replied looking over at her, she was about his age but she was much shorter than him. Although everyone was shorter than him, except for men they were evenly matched.

"Thank you. " she smiled brightly. "So, first question, do you have a wife, fiancé, or girlfriend, and do you have any kids?" She asked rather quickly, and then sighed. For some reason, she felt a little nervous about being around him. There was something eating at her that she hoped he was single.

Ali couldn't help but laugh at her question, he didn't know how this question was relevant to his so called " recovery process" at this place. He didn't do relationships really, they didn't seem to suit him. He was friegtened that if they got into a serious relationship and if Ali tried to kill himself it would affect everything. Relationships were pointless the sooner they begin the sooner they end.

" Is that really on there? Why do you need to know if I'm in a relationship or not? Worried that someone from the outside is going to send me stuff that I can kill myself with? Well you don't need to worry about that...I haven't been in a relationship for years. Next question" he said leaning against the window running a hand through his hair.

"Neither have I.." She frowned at his negativity, but she could relate, so she wasn't getting emotional like she usually did. "Um, next question... Are you concerned with the other patients while you are here? Things like a patient hurting himself, or killing himself." She asked, looking down at her clipboard. Afraid she'd cry if she made eye contact with him. He seemed very.. uncaring. But maybe it was just the disorder talking. Maybe the real Ali was nice, and gentle. Loving, even?

Ali didn't notice the young girl comment about her not being in a relationship either. Obviously she was trying to get on good terms, he had seen it all before, people trying to relate to him to get him to open up to them about his problems. He smirked to himself and scratched the back of his neck as he listened to her question about him being concerned about other patients harming or killing themselves.

Shaking his head he replied " I've only just got here, I haven't even seen anyone else here except for staff. So how can I be concerned about people I haven't even met yet?" He swung his legs down on the floor holding up up his hand spreading his fingers out. " right let's get this over and done with." He pointed to his thumb " Number One I have no allergies or dislikes to food I just choose to eat healthy. Number Two I do want to die and I don't plan to be here that long. Number Three I exercise around two to three hours a day mainly depending on how I feel, so I would appreciate if you stayed out of my way. Number Four I don't like people getting into my business and I won't get into yours and Number Five don't try to get on my good side cause you be clutching at straws. Now if you'll excuse me" Ali stood up grabbing his music and his drawing pad he walked out of the room finding his own room shutting the door behind him. He lay on the bed his music in his ears as he finished his drawing.

Samantha's eyes grew wide as he talked and by the end she was biting her lip. Her emotions were starting to take over.. And it was scaring her. She didn't know what it was anoint him but... Something.. Screamed at her broken heart. Deciding not to bother any patients anymore, she went to the doctor's office again.
"Greg?" She asked after softly knocking on the wood door, and squeaking it slightly open.

A gentle tap roused Greg from his heavy pile of paperwork.
' Come in' He announced before standing up and walking over to the filing cabinet.

It was Samantha, back already from her rounds. She seemed somewhat dazed and confused and not at all her usual hard working self.
' Is everything okay? he asked.

"Well, I don't really have any information on the girl. She hid from me, and I even gave her the button. " Samantha sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "The man.. He's.. Pretty sure he's not going to be here for long. Quite a stick in the mud or pain in the ass if you ask me. " she rubbed her forehead frustrated as she set the folders with whatever she could scramble up on the desk. She then crossed her arms as she stood, looking at Greg.