This is the story of a Goth named Daisy…

Daisy was a happy child. She liked cake and pencil cases and birthday parties at the zoo. Her impossibly blond hair crowned her freckled face and her smile softened the most cantankerous of hearts. Daisy was all goodness, but like most good things, this was not to last forever.

On the eve of Daisy’s thirteenth birthday, the delightful child was sitting in the playroom in the beautiful chocolate box cottage in which she lived with her loving mother and father. She had been hard at work all evening, fashioning a particularly charming collage for her parent’s wedding anniversary, which would take place the following week. As she sprinkled the last few pinches of glitter onto the page, she felt a little gurgle in her belly, like a little frog was ribbiting away in there. She giggled at the thought, gave a sigh and decided that was enough for tonight. She packed away her things neatly away in the old school desk, adorned with cheerful flowers and bumblebees, and trundled off to bed. As she climbed the stairs, she felt the little gurgle again, gurgling a little louder.

“Shhh!” she said, wagging her finger at her bellybutton.

“Who are you talking to, Daisy Pops?’ asked her father, standing on the landing.

“Oh, no one Daddy”, and she beamed at him, nestled her face in his protruding stomach and bid him goodnight.

No one noticed the dark shadow spreading across the sky, or more precisely over the patch of sky directly above the chocolate box cottage. A small black cloud appeared through the gloom and bubbled and billowed menacingly as Daisy buttoned her pyjamas and tucked herself in. There was a tense silence in the air. The cloud hung, brooding over the cottage, holding its breath as Daisy’s eyelids drooped, her head lolled onto the pillow and the last vestiges of wakefulness left her.

No sooner had she drifted off when the shadow swooped down, engulfing the room and filling the air with blackness. As Daisy slept, she thrashed around violently, as though fighting off invisible monsters all around her. But the room was empty. The monsters she fought did not surround her. They had bubbled up from deep inside her. They had always been there, hiding, biding their time and the immense blackness signalled their release. They bolted from their lair with a frightful cry, hacking into Daisy’s veins and arteries and shooting along her bloodstream to every organ of her poor unsuspecting body. The monsters were maniacal, shouting and whooping, free at last. They were angry at everything. They kicked her kneecaps, punched her eyeballs and stamped on her heart. They fought all night with Daisy’s brave white blood cells, who were slain in their multitudes by the vicious army. Finally, after hours of fighting, the battle was over and the monsters had won.

When Daisy awoke that morning, she was exhausted. She always smiled as the first rays of light warmed her face and welcomed her to the new day. This morning however, the light pierced her eyes and burnt her pale skin. She howled in pain and dived under the covers to the comforting blackness.

“Daisy! What are you doing up there, darling? Come downstairs for birthday breakfast muffins!”

But Daisy did not move. She merely groaned and retreated further under the duvet. She didn’t know why but she was angry, really, really angry. The very idea of breakfast muffins irritated her inexplicably, her mother’s shrill voice pierced her pounding head and even the birds, chirping gaily outside her window, caused her unimaginable pain.

“Daisy boo!” trilled the woman below. “Come on sleepyhead!”

She groaned. She did not know how much more she could take of this insufferable disturbance to her dark, solitary hiding place. With a sinking heart, she heard soft footsteps on the stairs and then the handle turning and the bedroom door creaking open.

“Alright, lazy bones. Breakfast in bed it...”

“Bleurarghargh!” Daisy yelled as she threw back the covers, cutting her off mid-sentence. Her mother gasped, dropping the birthday muffin onto the carpet and taking in her daughter. There sat her beautiful child staring furiously back at her, sallow-faced and greasy-haired. The sweet smile that usually graced her lips had disappeared and the sparkle was gone from her eyes. She thought she had more time, she hadn’t expected this so soon. But there was no mistaking, her daughter was lost forever and a Goth named Daisy was sitting in her place.