Like many young children I was afraid of the dark, believing that monsters lurked in the shadows.

Every night my parents used to check my bedroom. At the end of the search, they would announce: “There's nothing here Charlotte, now go to sleep.” After the door was closed and the light turned off, I laid awake imagining every noise to be a validation of my belief.

At the age of ten, an event occurred which convinced me that monsters did not live only in my imagination, as mum and dad so often told me. That night started like any other. After searching my room and, as usual, finding nothing, my parents kissed me on the cheek and said goodnight.

When the noises started, they sounded like muffled voices. This was strange because our house had no immediate neighbours. So, where were these sounds coming from? I listened and in time, was able to distinguish music too. This carried on for most of the night then, sometime before dawn, it stopped abruptly and I soon drifted off to sleep. The subsequent nights followed the same pattern. I began to look tired. When my parents noticed and asked me about it, I said: “I think that there are monsters in my room.” They looked up from their breakfast, then mum said: “Not this again Charlotte, it’s your overactive imagination. Monsters do not exist honey.” “Have you actually seen one?” asked Dad. “Well.... no, but I’ve heard them,” I answered. “There is nothing to worry about. You just imagined it all. Now quickly eat your breakfast or you will be late for school,” remarked Dad.

The next night and for several nights after, the strange sounds persisted. All I could do was lay awake and listen. I tried again to tell my parents about the strange noises. In an attempt to help me get a good night's rest, they banned me from watching television before bed but this didn't help. One night, I was so fed up with the noises keeping me awake that I took a torch up to bed and began my investigation. As I suspected, I didn't have to go very far, the sounds were coming from under my bed. I crawled underneath fully expecting to bump my head on the skirting board but instead I found myself at the start of a long perspex tunnel. My bedroom carpet became hard plastic, which hurt my knees through my pyjama bottoms. There was no need for my torch as it was illuminated by red and blue lights. The beams shone from outside. I looked around in amazement: “What is this place?” It was this feeling that kept me moving forward. The sounds I heard from my room, both the voices and music, were increasing in volume and by the time I reached the tunnel exit, the floor vibrated with deep bass.

Emerging onto a street, I looked around in wonder and soon found the source of the lights I had seen in the tunnel. They were spotlights, dancing in the night sky. The beams criss-crossed each other, they drew my attention to the multi-story building in front of me. There was a queue waiting to enter, moving forward slowly. The night was freezing, I wish I had brought my dressing gown. I began to shiver. In between shivers I called out: “ Excuse me, where am I?” When nothing happened I shouted louder: “Excuse me!” When the people turned around, I realised they were not people at all, but mythical creatures of all kinds. Dragons, vampires, cyclopes and some others I did not recognise. Dropping my torch in panic, I closed my eyes tightly. “I must be asleep, this must be a nightmare.” I wanted to run back to the safety and warmth of my bedroom. Just then, I heard a high-pitched whistle followed by a voice saying: “Stop staring at that human.” I opened my eyes to see that the queue had done as the voice had instructed. I felt a hand on my back. I looked to my left and saw a dwarf with red hair smiling at me. She exclaimed: “Oh my dear, you must be so cold. Let's get you inside.” She shouted: “Stand aside, we are coming through!” The queue parted obediently.

When we got to the entrance, our way was blocked by a bouncer, which turned out to be an enormous ogre. He had six fingers on each hand and, in his left, he carried a giant, black club. My companion smiled sweetly: “Good evening Stan, may we get inside? I know how much you hate queue jumpers!” Stan grunted and pointed to a list of rules by the door, among them was ‘no humans’. My companion nodded and said: “Yes, I am well aware considering my parents wrote the rules but, alas, if we leave her out here, she will freeze to death, which will be bad for business and for your job. Wouldn’t you agree, Stan?” Reluctantly, the ogre stood to one side.

The interior was an enormous square room, at one end was a dance floor. The creatures on it swayed to hypnotic electronic music. It was so loud that I had to cover my ears. It was packed and chattering filled the air. At intervals waiters dodged the dancers, carrying food and drink to the tables situated against the floor to ceiling windows. I looked upwards and saw enormous spiders doing aerial acrobatics while hanging from their webs. Spinning upside down in time with the music. I stared in wonder. However, when one of them lowered itself to my eyeline, it’s eight eyes meeting mine, I became terrified. My companion must have seen the look of horror on my face and hurriedly took me to a booth on the upper level. It was quieter there. She sat opposite me and spent several minutes inspecting me. Then she said: “ How rude of me, I did not introduce myself. I am Lily Blackwell and you are?” “Charlotte Turner,” I whispered.

“Well, it's very nice to meet you, Charlotte Turner. I expect you have questions. Let me get you a drink to warm you up and then you can ask as many as you want.” She left, returning a few minutes later with a steaming mug of what looked like cocoa. I took it gratefully, blowing to cool it before I took a sip. It was sweet and delicious. “Ok, Charlotte fire way!” Lily encouraged. “Where is this place?” I asked nervously. “Welcome to The Diamond Claw Nightclub, a safe haven for all the unusuals,” Lily said. “Who are the unusuals?” I asked. “Everybody here but you!” she chuckled, “In your world, you know us as monsters, but we find the term distasteful. My parents set up this club after seeing how much negative attention we were getting in your popular culture. It is getting better but there’s a long way to go. Now, let me introduce you to the others!” Lily said. I turned white with fear. “Don't be scared,” she said soothingly. “We won't hurt you! Don't believe everything you read or see in your world’s fiction.” She smiled, took my hand and I was introduced to the patrons.

Lily was right, the more we talked to her friends at The Diamond Claw, the more my view on monsters changed. They were not as nasty as popular culture would have you believe. The unusuals were witty, intelligent and charming. At the end of the night Lily made me promise to come back and visit. As I made my way to the tunnel, I felt happier than ever. My fears began to evaporate.


In the years that followed I made frequent trips to The Diamond Claw. When I was too big to fit under the bed, I just moved it to one side. The unusuals became my second family and Lily and I were like sisters. We would always sit in the same booth where we had our first conversation and talked for hours.

Eventually I left for Business School and graduated with honours. Our first conversation about monster acceptance kept replaying in my head. Someone had to help Lily and the others to be accepted in human society. They were so much more than villains in other people's stories. They deserve the chance to write their own.

Now, at the age of 25, together with my business partner, Lily Blackwell, we run ‘Changing Perspectives’, a Public Relations firm. Our aim is to show the world that the so-called “monsters” are nothing to be afraid of. With Lily’s parents’ financial investment and the Blackwell name attached to the company, it is going from strength to strength. Gradually we are changing people's views. My parents have full time roles in the company and cherish Lily as if she was their own.

I was once afraid of the dark, but thanks to Lily, I have learned that shadows are nothing to be afraid of.