Dear Diary,
I've never met my mum. It's always just been Dad, my sister and I. I've seen her picture on the mantelpiece and she looks like me, dark mahogany hair and hazel eyes but my sister, Zyta, looks like Dad. She has blue eyes and black hair just like his. She wears it down and it shines like the moon but mine stays in a bun otherwise it's limp and straggly. I once asked Dad if I was like Mum but he just shook his head. I think talking about Mum is a sore subject for him. She died while we were being born and it's all my fault. They weren't expecting me, just Zyta and two babies was too much for a natural birth, I suppose. All I know was that her name was Zosia March and Dad loved her so much. When we were babies, we were put in temporary foster care because Dad got sick. He started to drink a lot, I think and he couldn't look after us. When we were six months old, he got clean and looked after us again. I wasn't sure of the whole story but Zyta was clearing out a cabinet in our room and we found a box. We haven't opened it yet but we will tomorrow because Dad works on Saturday and we stay by ourselves. He's a doctor, a heart doctor and Mum was too. I think that's how they met. I would be way too squeamish to be any kind of doctor but Zyta wants to be a brain surgeon like Granddad. We don't see him often because him and Dad fell out but when it would have been Mum's birthday, every year we go to her grave together. It's weird grieving for somebody that you never met yet that somebody is part of you, they're in your blood but you don't know who they are. That's why we're going to open the box and find out who she was.
A/N - This is just a little oneshot set twelve years after Zosia supposedly dies in childbirth and has nothing to do with any of my other fics - I promise she is not going to die in any of the others! I had this idea on the train so I noted it down and have finally got round to writing it so here you go!
We lifted the lid. At the top of the box was a hospital band, a tiny hospital band with spidery writing on it. 'Zosia Self - DOB: 2/02/1989'.
"I thought her name was Zosia March." I said, confused.
"She maybe changed it. Here's her birth certificate, her mother was Anya Self but Anya's maiden name was March. She maybe lived with her mother or something and, let's be honest, Zosia Self really doesn't go."
We put the hospital band and bracelet aside carefully, as if it was solid gold. It was gold to us, though, gold was finding out about Mum and who she really was. The next thing in the box was a faded photograph of a newborn baby, on the back it said 'Zoshie aged two days'. Next was another photo of Mum. She looked about five and had ice cream round her mouth. There were no more childhood photos but there was one of her and her mum in a hospital. Then was a card with 'Love you Mama' written with the ink smudged. I twigged that her mother had died. Zyta carefully took out a box with some pills inside. 'Lithium', the packaging read, 'Prescription only'. There was a photo of Mum with her graduation robes on, smiling next to a man with big glasses.
"Is that Arthur?" said Zyta, "Wow, he's changed!"
Then, a photo of Mum in some scrubs. They were maroon, different to the ones that Dad wears. It was taken in a hospital and, in the background, it said 'Welcome to Keller Ward'. There were a few selfies of Mum, Dom and Arthur. We had met Dom a few times and he was very funny and we knew Arthur well but sometimes he was a bit weird. Then, a stethoscope. It was heavy and had an inscription - some was in English: 'Happy Birthday Zosia, Love from Ollie'. Ollie - that's Dad's name. Then, the other language. Zyta typed it into Google Translate and we found out that it was Latin for 'My heart is in your hands'.
"Aww, that's so romantic!" I said, smiling.
The next item in the box was a dark blue scrub top, folded neatly and it had a name badge on it: 'Dr Zosia March, F2' and a few more name badges: 'Dr Zosia March Cardiothoacic CT1' and: 'Dr Zosia March Cardiothoracic CT2'. She didn't make it to a registrar and it was all my fault. It was all my fault that she died. The penultimate item in the box was a NHS neck tag thingy with Mum's picture and her name. Finally, her death certificate. I couldn't bring myself to read it and maybe I will look at it later but I've found out all I need to know about Mum. Zosia March.