The Girl Behind The Goth

She hated anything girly. If it was pink and frilly she'd tear it to shreds. If it was soft and fuzzy she'd roughen it up and rip out the stuffing. If it was heart shaped and reeked of flowers she'd toss it in the furnace. She was an intelligent individual who valued uniqueness and did not participate in vapid giggling over some hyped up, over done, passing trend. She was different and she was proud of it.

However, she wasn't always like this. Headstrong with a massive attitude and a disdain for anything pink and mainstream. There was a time in her life when pink and frilly was happily accepted. When soft and fuzzy was lovingly cuddled. When hearts and flowers were a must have decoration. It feels like so long ago, a life time, an epoch.

She used to love dressing up and prancing around. Her parents were so proud of her manners and etiquette. They always said she would grow up to be a princess. She was daddy's little princess and she loved every minute of it. She was always well liked in school and had many admirers. She was the academy's very own little angel, with her porcelain doll skin, her beautiful violet eyes and long soft blond hair. She was what all little girls strived to be.

The problem with dreams however, is that they often shatter into reality. The moment she realized that she wasn't special. She wasn't unique. That there were millions of other little girls just like her, wearing pink frilly dresses and big pink bows in their soft blond hair. What she thought was her own was shared by millions.

One mass produced ideal to make everyone fit into the same mold. Making everyone conform to what a select few think is correct and exile deviants for being different. Uniqueness is unpredictable, uncontrollable, and that is what the few fear the most. Their inability to control those who are different scares them, that's why they attempt to make the world uniform.

Her eyes have been opened, her world expanded, her little dream land shattered. Of course she cried, what ten year old wouldn't cry after discovering that their carefully constructed fantasy was a big fat lie. However, instead of wallowing in depression she decided to do something about it. She decided she wanted to be the complete opposite of the ideal. She wanted to be the one to break the mold. This was the reason her parents wouldn't let her play sports, why she wore frilly dresses, the reason she could never play outside in the dirt. The reason she couldn't do anything that made her happy.

She was so angry at her parents for lying to her, she was angry with the world for being a big lie, but most of all she was angry at herself for falling for the lie, hook, line, and sinker. She looked in the full length mirror, at the adorable, perfect little girl dressed like a princess. She was so disgusted.

She tore her dress apart, broke her pearl necklaces, smashed her tiaras, destroyed her entire room. Finally after the rage was gone she sat in the middle of the wreckage, in her underwear and cried some more. Hoping in vain that her parents would come comfort her. To tell her that she's wrong, that the world isn't a cruel oppressive place.

After hours of sitting in the dark alone she'd had enough. If they didn't care enough to comfort her then she didn't care either. Rummaging through what was left of her closet, she grabbed black leggings and a black and purple dress. Finding some black flats and a black bow to tie in her hair she looked in the mirror again. Turns out she enjoys this color combination better. But her hair is still too bright, it reminds her of sunlight.

She sneaks into her grandmothers room and grabs the bottle of black hair dye, booking it back to her room. Getting in the shower and reading the instructions she goes to work. After the process is finally done, she gets dressed and stands in front of the mirror again. Much better. Black looks better on her anyway. And just for fun she decides to cut her hair short.

Long black tresses fall to the floor with every snip of her scissors. At first she was hesitant, even scared, but she wouldn't let the fear of change deter her. She wanted change, so she'd have to face it head on. After another hour of snipping her hair she combs it and looks in the mirror. The transformation is incredible. She hardly recognized herself. But after looking at herself like this, she's actually much happier. This way her hair doesn't get in the way when she's sleeping, or eating. She finally feels like herself.

Her parents were furious of course. Upon discovering her, it was a miracle her mother didn't die of a heart attack. She felt a bit bad and slightly ashamed, but the voice inside her told her that if she was happy then who cares what others think. She was adamant and stood her ground on the issue. There was severe grounding and harsh punishments, but she never let up on her beliefs.

After months of her never budging a single inch her parents surrendered. No more could they keep this up. They were very disappointed but couldn't deny her tenacity. Her grandmother was extremely supportive of her decision. It's because of her that she was able to keep her hair dyed.

Eventually her parents decided to move, hoping that a change in scenery would turn her back to normal. Of course that would never happened but she did like the town they were moving to. Since it's known as the most haunted town in America she was beyond exited. But when she finally got there the only paranormal activity she saw was a crazy man and woman in jumpsuits screaming about ghost that weren't there. Her parents didn't like them but she thought they were funny.

School finally started and as expected, nobody wanted to go near the creepy goth girl in black. Except for a shy little boy wearing a rocket ship tee shirt. He was so nervous, she couldn't help but start laughing. He tripped over his own words and couldn't maintain eye contact. She felt a little bad for him so she introduced herself first.

"I'm Samantha Manson but call me that and I'll break your fingers. Call me Sam"

"O-ok, Sam, my name is Daniel Fenton but everyone calls me Danny. Um...you wanna come sit with us?"

She looked over his shoulder at where he was pointing. There was another boy sitting alone at the table, some kind of device in his hand, wearing glasses too big for his face and a goofy looking barrette. The boy looks up and waves at them. She looked back at Danny and his goofy little smile made her want to smile too.

What's wrong with this boy. Most people avoid her like the plague without even bothering to get to know her. He looks at her so kindly, like she isn't wearing a big black hat with a veil and a cape in order to escape the sun. When she asks why he's doing this, he responds by saying that she looked lonely and since she's new he wanted to be her friend. She's shocked by the sincerity in his words, she decides to take a chance on this boy. Maybe he can accept her for who she is. Who knows, maybe they'll become good friends.

DPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

It always bothered me that it was never addressed why Sam hates everything girly and turned to the dark side. Her canon reasons felt very flat to me. And I also really like the headcanon about sam dying her hair black because she's naturally blond or ginger.

It got a bit angsty there but I felt it was necessary because someone who's raised by people like Sam's parents has to have some big "trauma" happen in order for them to reject it so aggressively. Also Granny Manson is definitely the real MVP in Sam's life, she would be super supportive.

Hope you liked it! Please read and review!

—DigitalArtMonster