1: You don’t look like a daisy. You look more like a…not-flower

The only word Daisy could think as the car pulled into the driveway was “sleep.” How beautiful that word sounded, but how untouchable it was! She looked out of the window from shotgun with sad eyes, the ocean replying with gentle crashes. All of the houses looked at her plantation-style faces as if they were trying to welcome her. Each house was different: the heavy brick one with black shutters, the pale-green with a cast-iron fence, the random Mediterranean-styled home with the largest porch probably in America. Her new home was her favorite: white with a red door, red shutters, and a white picket fence. But even the incredible home on the shoreline of South Carolina couldn’t make Daisy feel easy about moving.

“Come on, Daisy. We’re home.”

She slowly looked at her father through the window. He was balding, but happy beyond reason. Hesitantly, she took off her seatbelt and pushed the car door open. The salty air was powerful, yet soothing, Daisy noted as she rose out of the car, plaid backpack-purse on her back. She looked around tentatively as she shut the door behind her. She had been uprooted and planted in a new yard, just like a flower.

What Daisy never understood was why her mother named her “Daisy.” According to her mother, she said that her first and only child looked like a daisy when she was born. The only problem was that Daisy didn’t look remotely like any kind of flower.

“So this is it?” she asked, her eyes scrutinizing the balcony that she prayed was outside her room.

“Yes, dear,” a strained voice replied. “Now, help us as we unload!”

Daisy spun around to see her father struggling with a heavy suitcase in the backseat. She rushed to his side and heaved the oversized travel case with him. It began to slide out through the narrow hole in the car frame and eventually landed on the pavement with a loud “THUD!”

“Jeez, Dad. What’s in this?” she questioned as she examined it.

“Just a bunch of work stuff,” he sighed. “I hope the office isn’t too far away.”

Daisy simply nodded as the moving van pulled up to the curb. As if in war, the men jumped out of the truck, rushed to the back of the van, and began extracting furniture as quickly as humanly possible. She stood by the car and watched in amazement at the speed of the men as her father directed them as to where the furniture went. However, she was quickly bored.

“I’ll be right back, Dad,” she called as she began to walk away.

“Where are you going?”

“Just going to explore the area,” she replied. “Don’t worry. I’m a big girl, I won’t get lost!”

“Be back soon. And make sure your cell phone is on!”

Daisy nodded as she turned to walk down the street towards the beach. The sun was glaring burns onto her back, but she kept walking. She took out her iPod and put it on softly so she could still catch other noises around her.

At the house with the freakishly large porch, there was a lady with a steady face and strong features who looked strangely like Madame Defarge from A Tale of Two Cities. To top it off, she was knitting and did not see Daisy there. She shrugged off the lady’s coolness and continued down the street, the scent of sea salt getting stronger and stronger. The street began to slope downward and more sand build up on the curbs. Eventually, the road just disappeared and she was facing the ocean, standing on the sand. Perhaps the beach made her feel a little easier about moving, but she still missed her old home in McHenry, Illinois.

She took over her high-tops to reveal her white ankles and stuffed them in her backpack-purse. She inched near the water until she was off the burning sand and walking on the wet sand where the water rushed to her feet.

There were not many people on the beach since the day was coming to a close. Daisy made a mental note of where she had come from and began to walk up the shore. Over her music, she could hear the waves softly crashing and seagulls squawking like the demons they are. After about ten minutes of walking up, she turned around and began to retrace her steps. She could see down the beach, where she had come from, a soccer game had broken out. That made it much easier for her to know where to stop.

As she got closer and closer to the soccer game, she noted that the guys all appeared to be around her age. Perhaps the start of her junior year, she’d have some classes with them. But as she got even closer, she saw how attractive and athletic they were. Cross out any possibilities of being friends with them. They were probably the popular jocks at school that Daisy would never talk to.

“WATCH OUT!”

As if my life isn’t cliché enough? Daisy thought bitterly as she tossed her iPod into the dry sand so she could catch the flying soccer ball. As she caught it, she could see one of the boys run towards her. Great, the story of my life. Hot guy runs at me, I get totally infatuated with him, he doesn’t notice me, I go emo.

“I’m so sorry!” the guy cries as he gets closer.

Daisy’s cliché life-story seemed to be going all right so far. The only flaw was that he wasn’t really hot, just cute. Like the boy-next-door look, but cuter.

“No problem,” she replied as tossed the soccer ball to him. “I tend to be the target of flying object.”

She expected him to laugh cruelly and just turn away. But he surprised her—he laughed…warmly. And handed Daisy her iPod that she had thrown aside to catch the soccer ball with a glistening smile.

“Probably just to get your attention!” he said, running his hand through his short mocha hair. “I know most of the people around here. But you can’t be a tourist. Most tourists visit the southern beaches here.”

“I just moved here about thirty minutes ago,” she replied, smiling.

“Really? Which neigh—”

The boy was interrupted by a loud yell from his group of friends.

“COME ON! WE DON’T HAVE ALL SUMMER!”

He just laughed and looked back at Daisy.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later…”

“Daisy Valentino,” she supplied.

“Archer Spacek,” he returned. “You don’t look like a daisy. You look more like a…not-flower.”

Daisy laughed because he was obviously noting the short black hair dyed green underneath and the white skin. She shrugged as he flashed one more smiled as said, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yah” was all she could muster out as he ran off to the other guys. She smiled and looked at her iPod. Of course “True Love’s Kiss” from Enchanted would be playing. She put the earbuds on and started to walk back home.

Maybe Archer Spacek just made moving a little easier…

A/N: Umm… The title of this will probably change a thousand times. This is a response to the SKoW Challenge #22 – Things That Really Do Go Bump in the Night. Add a comment please? This is a new genre for me to try and I need some advice and/or encouragement.

-Kay (Let Them Eat Cake)

EDITS 3.8.08: I fixed that mistake, KnittingKneedle! Thanks again for catching it! And here the official challenge:

Challenge #22 - Things That Really Do Go Bump In The Night by Megs

General Idea: Your protagonist is moving up in the world! He or she has just been promoted and now finally has enough moola to buy the perfect little house in a nice little neighborhood. Everything is going great!.. that is, until he or she starts hearing those noises...
Requirements:
- numerous references to famous horror movies and movies that somehow involve ghosts (for those of you more literature-minded, make that references to famous gothic novels/tropes)
- next door cutie, a native to the area, who serves as romantic interest
- spooky scenes -- it is a ghost story, after all
- takes place in a (somewhat) realistic setting (the ghost or whatever can be from any period, though)
- if you go the one-shot route, it must be at least 7000 words
Optional:
- the story can actually be a modern day adaptation of an older gothic novel, if that sort of thing is for you
- ghost hunters/mediators come to house to help
No:
- falling in love with the ghost. gag me.