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Daisy Darker’s family were as dark as dark can be.
When one of them died, all of them lied, and pretended not to see.
Daisy Darker’s nana was the oldest but least wise.
The woman’s will made them all feel ill, which was why she had to die.
Daisy Darker’s father lived life dancing to his own tune.
His self-centered ways, and the pianos he played, danced him to his doom.
Daisy Darker’s mother was an actress with the coldest heart.
She didn’t love all her children, and deserved to lose her part.
Daisy Darker’s sister Rose was the eldest of the three.
She was clever and quiet and beautiful, but destined to die lonely.
Daisy Darker’s sister Lily was the vainest of the lot.
She was a selfish, spoiled, entitled witch, one who deserved to get shot.
Daisy Darker’s niece was a precocious little child.
Like all abandoned ducklings, she would not fare well in the wild.
Daisy Darker’s secret story was one someone sadly had to tell.
But her broken heart was just the start of what will be her last farewell.
Daisy Darker’s family wasted far too many years lying.
They spent their final hours together learning lessons before dying.
Nana must have been writing it when she fell.
“Why would she write such horrible things about all of us?” Lily asks. I watch Rose and Conor staring at the chalk poem, but they don’t have an answer to the question. None of us seems to know what to say or do. Lily, who always finds silence too uncomfortable to wear, fills it with the sound of her own voice again.
“I’ve just realized that it’s Halloween,” she says, with a weak smile. “Maybe this is some kind of trick-or-treat prank?”
It’s true, Nana did always like playing tricks on us at Halloween. It was her favorite night of the year for lots of reasons. She believed in the ancient Celtic origins of the festival, and would remind us of them each and every year when we celebrated her birthday. The Celts living in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales over two thousand years ago believed that on October 31 a portal between the living and the dead opened, allowing lost souls to return to Earth. Nana was always willing to believe that ghosts were real, but it was the only time of year she believed they walked among us.
“Do you remember when Nana taught us to play trick-or-treat when we were children? Lighting lots of candles, and scaring us with her ghost stories?” Lily says, as though expecting Nana to sit up and laugh at us all for being so gullible.
“This is no trick-or-treat,” says Rose, wiping a rare tear from her cheek. “She’s dead.”
Nana
Daisy Darker’s nana was the oldest but least wise.
The woman’s will made them all feel ill, which was why she had to die.
Nana said she loved her family, but it wasn’t always true.
The old bat was more bitter and angry with them than any of them knew.
She wished her son had been born a girl, or not been born at all.
