Rated for Coarse Language, Drug and Alcohol Abuse, Sexual Content, Violence, Bullying and Who Knows What Else.
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Comments, Observations and Grammar/Spelling or Punctuation Corrections Welcome.
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Disclaimer: I do not own St Trinians School for Girls. All characters are mine, though some are based on characters, appearances or personalities from the (second) movie.
Prologue
Lady Isabella Jacqueline Blackwood, or just Bella for short, sat in the back of her limo clad in a black Victoria's Secret corset, mini, Gucci heels, 5 grand worth of custom-made white gold and diamond jewellery, black and silver glitter make up, no panties and sulked.
For most, such a dark scowl would make for a very unattractive face, but the youngest child of Lord Christian Blackwood was a singularly beautiful girl. She, like her five older brothers, had hair such a dark black it had a unique bluish tinge and the strangest silver grey eyes. Unlike her brothers, who took after their father's massive 6½ foot stature, Bella stood at a willowy 5 foot 6 inches. Her nose was perhaps slightly too small and a sprinkle of freckles marred her pale skin, but overall, it was generally agreed by the Blackwood Estate Staff that young Lady Isabella was the splitting image of her deceased mother.
The late Lady of Blackwood however, would never have been caught dead wearing the sour expression her daughter wore now. One may wonder what exactly was causing such an unpleasant expression to grace the features of one of the wealthiest heiresses in Europe. Simply put, Bella had just spent 13 hours on a plane, having been forcibly removed from her birthday party at her penthouse in New York by her father's massive bodyguards who, even now, were sitting on either side and in front of her, statue-like, preventing her escape from the insufferably quiet confines of the tacky limo her father had sent to pick her up from the airport.
If this doesn't sound that bad to you, Reader, take into consideration that the party she had been dragged from had been her not-so-sweet sixteenth and aforementioned bodyguards had not bothered to knock on the door before bursting into her bedroom.
So, on top of having five massive men of her father's employ see her naked and in the middle of, well, that, up against the window of her top floor apartment, she and her boyfriend of seven months (her second longest relationship), Damon, hadn't been even been allowed to, uh, finish before the blank faced bodyguards had pulled the stunned pair apart and dragged Bella, kicking, screaming, and semi-naked out of her bedroom and apartment, through the packed hall, down the elevator and out the crowded lobby. If this, Reader, isn't bad enough, the bodyguards had locked her into yet another tacky limo and two had gone back up to her room where they had proceeded to stuff her very expensive, irreplaceable one-of-a-kind designer clothes and jewellery carelessly into trash bags.
Thankfully, Bella had had the presence of mind to grab her oversized Gucci handbag, containing her Ipod, cell phone, purse and most of her makeup. Not so thankfully, she had heard definite breakage sounds when they threw the overflowing bags into the trunk. and back seats. and front seats.
Like any self respecting rebellious teenager, Bella had, of course, loudly protested; as in 'Cops-showing-up-because-someone-thought-a-murder-was-taking-place' type protesting. NYPD was of course no help to her at all. They were far more interested in breaking up the 500 strong VIPs and half that again in gatecrashers.
To make matters worse, the bodyguards had almost forgotten all about her darlings: Abercrombie and Merlin. Abercrombie was a baby Hedgehog and Merlin was her 2 year old Russian Blue. She had firmly told them they could expect bald patches and gouged eyes all the way to the airport if her pets weren't retrieved. The pets were, to her immense satisfaction, recovered, as ordered, but the bodyguards, obviously rather unwilling to risk their hair or eyes, had the nerve to tranquilize her just as her precious pets were placed in her handcuffed arms. She had awakened on the other side of the world in yet another tacky limo, still dressed in her corset and mini, still minus her underwear, but having somewhere along the way obtained the most splitting headache; probably a result of the excessive alcohol consumption mixed with the forcibly administered sedative.
Having heard all this, I think you will agree Bella was quite within her rights to have such an unappealing snarl of dissatisfaction on her face.