Disclaimer: I clearly don't own this: if I did I wouldn't be writing about it here.

AN: This will be a Kelly/Annabelle story, but will probably take it's time getting there.

Timeline: Takes place about a month after The Heist.

Title: Moving On

Part One

Annabelle Fritton sat up from her bed with a cry, pulling at her wrists. She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, her sheets were all bunched up around her, and she was breathing heavily. She looked around her sparsely decorated sleeping area, and then out at the dormitory around her. Most of the girls were still fast asleep, but Polly, Chelsea and Chloe were all looking over at her in concern. They all looked as though they'd just been woken up. Memories of her bad dream came flooding back to her, and she realised that she'd probably been the one to do it. She stole a glance at the time on her mobile: 4:10. Crap, it had happened again. She'd never managed to wake any of the other girls before now, but as she remembered; this had been a particularly bad dream. She looked up at the other girls again; Chelsea and Chloe were looking at each other, neither seeming to know quite what to say to her. Polly was looking at her, she seemed to be about to say something.

Annabelle stood up abruptly, "just, uh, off to the bathroom."

"Annabelle-,"

"Don't worry Polly, just go back to sleep, I'm okay." She made her way quickly out of the dormitory, and instead of turning left to go into the bathroom, she made her way downstairs and outside to get some air. As she threw open the main front door of the school she gasped at the sudden change in temperature. It was getting a lot colder now, and she noticed that the leaves were beginning to change. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body and breathed deeply. Finally her racing heart began to slow, and her head began to clear.

This needed to stop. Every night since the big heist at the National Gallery she had been having the dreams. Nearly a month had passed and they had only become more vivid, and more disturbing as time went on. Every night she woke up with that same falling sensation, covered in sweat, her heart racing, and unable to catch her breath. This was the first time she had woken anyone else up. She dreaded the questions she knew she'd get in the morning. She slowly lowered herself to the step, and put her head in her hands. What was she going to say to them? This could not get out, and yet, she knew it would if she didn't find a way to stop these nightmares.

Maybe medicating herself to the point of being almost comatose would work, but she wasn't quite ready to go that far. She supposed exhausting herself could do the trick. A nice long run or an extra hockey practice before bed perhaps. She resolved to try that the next night. Now what excuse should she give the girls? She knew that if her story was not satisfactory, Polly would go straight to Kelly, and that was the last thing she wanted. Annabelle had been getting closer to the Head Girl as she tutored her a bit in the ways of St. Trinian's, but she wasn't ready for her to know everything about why she had come to the school. Kelly had her ways of getting information out of people, and Annabelle realised that the best way to stop it happening was to not let her friend find out there was information to extract.

She could say something about monsters, vampires, werewolves or the like, but she knew it wouldn't be especially believable after she had shared with the girls her collection of bizarre and old school horror movies, each one more graphic and disgusting than the last. Almost every one of them had been completely freaked out after just a few films, while Annabelle had been grinning widely at the screen, and giving a running commentary of her favourite parts to Kelly and Andrea, with whom she had been sharing a sofa and a bowl of popcorn.

She supposed she could pass it off as just a bad dream, and say she had them from time to time, but it was nothing to worry about. The only problem with that was that she knew she'd probably keep having the dreams unless her plan to go running worked, and she didn't hold out much hope for that. A half truth might work, she decided. If she censored the full story considerably, hopefully she wouldn't be asked too many further questions.

She leaned her head back against the pillar behind her and sighed deeply. She was still feeling a bit dizzy, and her wrists ached with the memory of her ordeal. The only person in the school who knew what had happened was her aunt, and aside from a few derisory comments about the school, she had yet to mention Cheltenham Ladies' College, and what they had done to her while she was there.

*

Faint light was beginning to peak over the hills in the distance when Annabelle finally made her way back inside. Thankfully everyone else in the dormitory was sleeping when she returned; at least she wouldn't have to make her excuses quite yet. She got back into her bed, and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the dormitory at night, of everyone around her fast asleep. Taylor was mumbling softly about something Annabelle couldn't make out, someone was breathing loudly, though she couldn't tell who, and the muffled sound of music was coming from headphones that had long fallen out of Andrea's ears. She didn't find sleep again that night.

TBC

Let me know if you want to read more. L