I never thought of myself as evil. Never! She was my life source, but I wasn't really keeping her up in that tower...oh. The tower, that's what is making you avoid me.

Well, the tower wasn't intended to be a prison, it was just the cheapest on the market. And pretty remote. I've always been a bit of an introvert myself.

I bet you've deducted who I am exactly. FIne, I'm Gothel. Rapunzel called me Mother, and others had the audacity to do the same. Even you probably do. And you hate me for what I did to "poor little Rapunzel."

Well, stories get twisted in the telling.

So here is my side. Judge if you'd like, but hear me out.

It all started about a thousand years ago on a hillside. I found a little gold flower growing out of the rocky soil.

I had a large garden back then, and sang to each of my little flowers. So I sang to this one, just to get it growing stronger.

To my surprise, it began to glow.

What came next is a feeling I struggle to explain. I could literally feel the years lifting from my face.

I came back the next day, and the next, and the next. Soon, I became addicted to the flower's magic, as many other fairies do to other variations of magic.

That's right, I am a fairy. Most fairies don't actually have big wings or wands or tiny feet. The only way you can tell is by our hair. It never calms down, always wild.

Fortunately, most humans are ignorant to that fact. And many others, as I have found.

So when the king's men came and took my flower, I was furious. But I soon learned where it was. A little girl, the princess, had been born with long golden hair.

I knew that for centuries, all of the royal family and their extended family were brunettes.

I had to get the hair. I needed the magic, even just a small piece!

So I snuck into the castle one night. There lay the little princess. She gurgled at me and pulled a piece of hair stuck in her fist.

I began to sing to her, softly, so I wouldn't break the small sleeping spell I had performed on the nurse.

Her hair glowed. I closed my eyes as centuries of age lifted from my body.

Then I pulled out a pair of scissors, selected the lightest part, and cut it with a single snip.

I turned to go, and realised that the lock I was holding had turned brown! I knelt over her cradle to perform a spell that would allow me to take a piece without it leaving its power with the girl or dispersing.

I blew a small handful of powder in her face, part of the ritual. She giggle at the sparkles, then sneezed.

The nurse woke up and screamed. Guards ran in.

Then I panicked. I grabbed the child and ran.