Disclaimer: I don't own St Trinian's
She didn't know. She didn't know me.
I stared into the eyes of the girl who, to me, was the centre of my universe. Kelly, Kelly Jones, the feisty teenager who had kept me on my toes for so many years. But there was nothing there apart from fear; no depth, no head-girl leadership, no devious plots or intelligent thoughts. No... Kelly.
Not any more.
My heart ripped apart as I saw the confusion and hurt on her face. Surely she was scared- that was natural, I supposed. After all, for all she knew, she was with strangers, injured badly. Yet it seemed so... Wrong. The old Kelly would have been joking about everything, a stubborn look of indepedence on her face even though every bone in her body was broken. The doctors had taken more tests and scans in the last few days, and her condition was far worse than they had originally told me when she was first admitted. Scans and X-rays had discovered new damage, cracks and fractures than the doctors first picked up. Adding to that, more bruises had blossomed- on her face, this time, making it swollen and pigmented.
Lucky there's no spinal cord fractures... Minor internal injuries... Several broken bones, each limb fractured severely... Slipped discs... Cracked skull... Concussion... Luckily, the C.T. scan showed no brain damage... Dislocations... Bruisings...
The words of the almost-indifferent doctor haunted me. I'd been worried for days, now, that Kelly wouldn't wake up, and that she'd die... I'd hate that, want to die too. But this, this was so much worse. Kelly barely existed- her mind was almost erased, now. Gone. It was like she'd disappeared for good, an empty shell left behind. Sure, she could still learn and function and become head girl again. But I'd have to live looking into her eyes, knowing she was gone, and that the memories she'd had, each moment we'd spent together, was all but lost. And I would have no one to share them with.
I pulled away from the unfamiliar girl in the bed, the un-Kelly, and found my way to the door, slamming it in fury. Before it had even closed, Chelsea was behind me.
"Flash." she snapped. "What's the deal?"
I sighed. "I'm not going to crowd the bl***y stranger in there!" I shot back. "I don't know her'!"
Chelsea's jaw dropped in disbelief. "How can you say that?" she gawked, clenching her manicured hands into fists. "She's Kelly! I would have thought you of all people would care about and support her the most! I thought you liked her! I thought you... Loved her!"
I turned around, giving her a sharp glare. " I loved Kelly. Kelly Jones. And that-" I pointed at the door. "Is not Kelly."
Somehow, I found myself returning to the room. The girls were crowded around the strange one in the hospital bed, talking to her gently. Her nervous eyes hit mine, but I looked away gruffly.
"Flash Harry." She spoke in an unfamiliar voice, timid and uncertain. I shuddered when she said my name, and refused to look at her.
"You've learnt me name." I spoke in a low, slurred monotone. "Good."
"I think... I think maybe Kelly and Flash need to be alone." Annabelle said, nudging the other girls. I knew she was trying to be kind, and give us a moment- I would have been glad of it when I was with Kelly. But I didn't want to be left in a room with a stranger, particularly not one who had erased Kelly's mind and stolen her body- in a way, at least. I gave her a look, but she smiled halfheartedly, and it was clear that she misunderstood my look-that she thought I was telling her she didn't need to, rather than the truth; I didn't WANT to be alone with her. Yet the girls vacated the room, and I was left to face the imposter. She looked at me warily, trying to smile. I turned away, sickened by the mere sight of her.
"Harry..." I snorted- she was wrong. She'd never called me Harry, and it was another cruel reminder that she wasn't Kelly.
"Look, I'm SO sorry. The others told me that we... We were close to each other."
I shook my head. "No. KELLY and I were close."
"No, you're NOT!" I was yelling now, furious. How DARE she think that she was Kelly! "You may have her body, but you've lost everything that makes her Kelly!" I turned to see tears in her eyes... GOOD. She deserved it.
"I think I'll get a drink." I growled, stalking off down the corridor. I passed the girls as I did, and automatically the quizzical looks and curious questions followed me as they tottered after me on their stilettos. But I wasn't in the mood today... not now, not ever.
"Leave me alone." I muttered gruffly, pushing past them. But the irksome totties persisted.
"What happened, Flash?"
"Did she faint?"
"Did she die?"
"No," My voice raised once again, and now I was really irritated.
"Did you kiss?" This last squeal was from an overemphatic Chelsea, who was now at my shoulder. Rage boiled up inside me, and I turned viciously towards her. My teeth gritted together, and I glared at her.
"NO!" I roared, so loudly that several people in the hospital retreated from their rooms to stare curiously. "GET LOST, YOU BL***Y SLUTS!"
The totties all squeaked simultaneously and departed like frightened mice. Served 'em right. But Annabelle persisted confidently, getting a determined I'm-going-to-find-out-or-else look on her face.
"Flash," she began to soothe. "Look, I know we're upset about Kelly, but she will recover and..."
"DIDN'T YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?" I yelled at her. Stupid girl. Why wouldn't she understand? My anger was rising at an alarming pace now, and I felt a twisted urge to insult her, which I gave way to. "You think you know everything," I hissed snidely. "But you, stupid Fritton, don't know anything."
Annabelle opened her mouth the rebut my statements, but I continued before the breath left her painted lips.
"You just waltzed in and expected we'd all treat you like you belonged at St T's- let alone deserved to be there." Yes, good- the hurt was blossoming in her face every second. But in my state of anger, I wanted to twist the knife in further. I leaned closer in to her face- it was shaking slightly so her curls jiggled, but she still didn't flinch.
"Fritton, we ALL curse the day you entered our school. Every one of us says we hate you." This was entirely untrue, but Annabelle froze, a tiny choked gasp leaving her lips; she believed it. "And," I finished. "We all want you to pack up your bags and get lost, you bl***y b***h."
Annabelle tried to compose her face, but her lip trembled and a few tears she wasn't able to conceal flooded her brown eyes. Then she was off, the pace of her heels clicking faster and faster as she began to sprint. I didn't watch her leave or let myself feel any remorse. I just thundered away, out the general hospital, ignoring the car waiting for me in the parking lot and instead traipsing dank side-streets that were unfamiliar to me until I found a run down, lowly pub with blacked out windows and peeling paint. I stormed in, past lewd drunkards spilling lager down their grimy shirts and towards the dimly lit bar-front. The gruff bar man gave a grunt, and I barked out the order for a double vodka. He gave me a dusty shot glass, and I tipped it vertically onto my mouth so that beads of the liquid poured down my face and splashed onto my clothes. I ordered another, and another, and my speech grew more slurred. I tried to wipe the images of a blank, memory-deprived Kelly from my mind. But no matter how much strong alcohol I consumed, the memory of the past event lurked there, ready to spring as soon as I resurfaced from my vodka-induced stupor. As my head finally knocked onto the counter and my eyes closed, the weight of the drinks pressing into my consciousness, the last thing I saw as I passed out was Kelly's face, unknowing and confused.
Then the world blacked out.