How many more? And then what's he going to use on my poor bottom ?

The Head Girl

I can't stand that snotty, stuck-up Amanda! How they made her Head Girl at Bexhill, I don't know. Actually, I think I do - she provides a regular supply of 'cane-fodder' for the Headmistress.

OK, I know I shouldn't have been over the road at the Blue Moon, that little grocery store that is so invitingly just out of bounds, but it was my best friend Sally's birthday and I wanted to buy the ingredients for a midnight feast to celebrate. It was really, really bad luck that, just as I hopped back over the boundary wall, the awful Amanda emerged from the pavilion. It was obvious what I was doing, even though I'd hidden the bag with the wine and the crisps behind of the trees so that I could retrieve it when it was dark. The horrid Head Girl's eyes lit up when she saw me.

"Where have you been?"

"Nowhere, Amanda."

"Then why are you climbing over the wall?"

"I...I...was caught short and needed to pee."

"Don't lie to me. What's wrong with the toilet in the pavilion. I think you've been to the Blue Moon."

"No, Amanda." But the fib sounded unconvincing, even to me.

"Then let's just take a little look, shall we? Maybe I can smell where you peed, or maybe, just maybe, I'll find something else."

Of course, it took her less than minute to locate the bag with the bottle in it. She let out a little whoop.

"Well, well, well! Let's see: out of bounds, lying to a Prefect, and best of all, in possession of alcohol. I think Mrs Winchester is going to have a field day with your poor little bottom. Come on, let's go!"

And with that she escorted me off to Mrs W's study. As predicted, the Headmistress threw the book at me, and told me that I was going to get twelve with the Dragon.

Oh my God! I hate the Dragon. It stings like blazes and the marks take ages to fade. But the worst thing of all is having that awful, gloating Amanda watching me being thrashed. I suppose it's her reward for producing another victim for Mrs W.

Image from the Penitents

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