Annabelle Fritton strutted away from her blonde friend with a small glimmer of hope twinkling in her warm eyes. For a moment she forgot about the guilt that had been bubbling away inside of her since she learnt of Kelly's unfortunate yet quick death, Belle couldn't help but feel that guilt. She wanted to be there at Kelly's side, helping her through any pain as she slipped away. She wanted to whisper assurances into her ears and beg Kelly to hold on. But more importantly Annabelle Fritton wanted to say her goodbyes as Kelly Jones fell into a never ending sleep, that's what she would never be able to do.

Her heart broke in two when Kelly's two colleges came to say those three dreadful words, killed in action. Somehow Belle had managed to tell the girls without breaking in down in tears, she didn't want to worry them. It wouldn't do to have the St Trinian girls worrying, what was done was done and it couldn't be reversed. That didn't stop Annabelle from locking herself in her room, Kelly's old room, with the curtains drawn and the tears flowing endlessly down her cheeks. It didn't help to have Kelly's favourite belongings surrounding her, still in the positions that Kelly had left them. The young Fritton didn't want to move them in the fear that it would erase all trace of the mysterious Kelly Jones.

When the day of her girlfriends funeral had arrived Annabelle Fritton dried her eyes, opened her curtains and smiled sadly at the bright, morning sun. The pain deep within her heart was still there, that would never leave her, but she had to be there for the girls and the school. It was what Kelly would have wanted her to do and that was what Belle did. When she finally emerged from her room after a week of isolation she was engulfed by a swarm of St Trinians coming to offer there comfort. For the first time in what seemed a life time, Annabelle felt a single happy tear glide smoothly down her cheek. But the peak happiness and relief wasn't to last when the crowd of warmth parted down the middle. She glanced up, expecting to see her smirking girlfriend only to find she wasn't there. Never again would Kelly be leaning against the wall, arms folded and casual smirk in place. That hurt. A lot.

A warm, gentle hand on her shoulder snapped the grief stricken girl out of her trance. Fritton smiled a small smile as she looked deep into her aunts tired eyes, today she knew she wasn't alone in grief. Taking a breath and squaring her shoulders Annabelle marched forward with her head held high, the surge of St Trinians followed her and together they walked out of their school. Tribes and rivals were forgotten as they marched towards the church, it was close to the school and to the place where Kelly felt truly at home. At the church they met up with previous St Trinians and Annabelle walked straight over to the girls that knew Kelly best.

The rest was a blur for Annabelle, she couldn't remember much of the service. She remembers laughing at some of the stories about Kelly's pranks and many achievements. She can remember holding back the endless river of tears that was quickly building up into a sea behind her eyes. The one that Annabelle Fritton remembers the most is the look in Andrea's eyes. That puzzled the brunette, she had never before seen that look in anybody's eyes before. It wasn't a look of confusion or a look of anger, it almost was a knowing look. Belle can remember following Andrea's odd gaze towards the back of the church and she can remember shaking her head and putting the look down to grief. Andrea had known Kelly since they had started St Trinians together, of course she would be hurt over the sudden death.

Annabelle can't remember much of the day, she doesn't remember Chelsea wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. She can't remember Taylor's tearful speech or Polly travelling down memory lane. The one thing that Belle can remember is the distinctive smell of Kelly's sweet perfume and the feeling of an icy hand on her shoulder that somehow reassured her. It all then clicked into place as she remembered what Kelly had told her about Andrea and her talents. The spark of hope flickered inside of her and the butterflies that only Kelly could create once again fluttered around inside of her stomach. She still had a chance, it was a small chance but Annabelle was going to take it. That was why she was in a hurry to reach Andrea.

"Andrea," Annabelle greeted with a small smile,

"Belle," Andrea smiled back, "I'm, er, sorry about Kelly," The Emo added with a small stutter,

"It wasn't your fault, there's no need to apologise," The St Trinian replied with a shake of her head,

"I know but me and Taylor are always here if you need us. Taylor maybe," Andrea looked to the sky as she searched for the right word, "A prat, but she can be smart if she puts her pea sized brain to it," Annabelle chuckled, Andrea and Taylor may have given into the sexual tension but that would never stop the weak insults between the pair,

"Andrea," Annabelle started, this was going to sound insane and she knew it, "Can you... Do you?"

"See the spirits?" Andrea said, helping Belle with her words,

"Sounds insane, doesn't it?" The younger girl sighed,

"Not as insane as half the things Taylor comes out with," Andrea reassured, "Honestly, I have no clue on what goes through that idiots mind but yes, I can." Annabelle's face then lit up,

"So you're a psychic?"

"A medium is what I prefer to call it. You want to know about Kelly." Andrea stated, Annabelle nodded, "And you would probably like to know that she is currently mocking Chelsea," Andrea smiled as she looked over at Chelsea Parker. She saw a ghostly white Kelly standing in front of the Totty mocking the 'oh my God' hand gestures,

"Is there a way for us to speak to her," Annabelle asked eagerly,

"Tonight in the common room, bring Chelsea, Celia, Zoe and Bianca. I'll bring Taylor and Polly." Andrea smiled before walking away leaving Annabelle with a lit up face and a hopeful grin of her own.

See, not forgotten this story or any other stories for that matter. Well except a few... Long story short, the joys of false alarms. Looks like you lot are stuck with me a while, I know I know, I can hear the depressed groans. Ah well, TUFF.

Now review while I try and write more for 'The Silent Killer' and decide who's being killed off. Any votes on who should die?