A Rose's Thorns
by, Smeagol's girl
(A/N: I can finally get some work done around here! Oy! Okay, when they were kids, Willy Wonka and Rose Parker were on and off friends, but she was the only friend he can remember because she was the only one who broke his heart the worst. It's been years since then, and the pain is almost gone, and everything's going great with his heir. But then when a phone call arrives at the factory, Willy's past is about to come back to haunt him. Rated T. I own nothing.)
"I feel like there is no need for converstation/ Some questions are better left without a reason/ And I would rather reveal myself than my situation/ Now and then I consider my hesitation/ The more the light shines through me/ I pretend to close my eyes/ The more the dark consumes me/ I pretend I'm burning bright/ I wonder if the things I did were just to be different/ To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence/ And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation/ Here and now I'll express my situation/ The more the light shines through me/ I pretend to close my eyes/ The more the dark consumes me/ I pretend I'm burning bright/ There's nothing ever wrong/ But nothing's ever right/ Such a cruel contradiction/ And I know I cross the line/ It's not easy to define/ I'm born to indecision/ There's always something new/ Some path I'm s'posed to choose/ With no particular rhyme or reason/ The more the light shines through me/ I pretend to close my eyes/ The more the dark consumes me/ I pretend I'm burning bright/ I feel like there is no need for conversation"
-'Burning Bright,' Shinedown
(Back in the day...)
"I don't want to do this," whispered young Willy, looking over at his friend with nervous eyes. It was ten at night, dark out, and well past his bedtime. If his father knew he were here, he might as well not even go home. Beside him, the young girl shifted, a hint of fear radiating off of her, but she made up for it with a false smile.
"You chickening out now, Will?" she asked in a mocking tone. "Then go back home to Daddy and have him tuck you in." Willy sent her a dirty look, and followed her to the next bush quietly. The crickets and the occasional passing car were the only sounds they could hear, and she finally turned to him. "Okay, you knock on the door and keep her busy while I go in through the window."
"What do I do?" he asked.
"I don't know. Think of something. Ask if you can borrow an egg or something. Just keep her busy, got it?"
"I don't want to," he whined.
"Too late. Now go before I kick you there." He rolled his eyes, and walked away from her, heading to the door like he was supposed to. About a week back, he had been playing soccer with her and their ball had managed to go over the fence and into the yard of this particular house. The owner was a grouchy old lady that all the children despised and avoided as much as possible. Any balls that landed in her yard were immediately stored in the garage or basement where they were never seen again. Rose had taken great pains to find out which place the ball was stored in, and to their luck, the basement had been the designated place of choice.
On more than one occasion, Willy had begged her to just ask for the ball back, and yet there he was, approaching the old lady's door to ask for an egg he wasn't going to use. This had better be worth it, was all he could think as he reached over to the brass knocker. It took a few minutes, standing there in silent agony, waiting for the bloody door to open, but then the porch light turned on and the front door creaked on its hinges, opening to him.
The old lady had been enough of a horrifying sight on her own, but when she wore her light blue bed bonnet and nightdress she was downright terrifying. He gulped over the lump in his throat, and stuttered terribly. Before he had even said a word, he knew she wouldn't fall for it.
"What do you want, you little brat? Can't a woman get any sleep around here!" she croaked.
"Uh... I... I w-was wond-d-d-dering... ma'am," he stuttered, then stopped to take a deep breath and speak. Behind the house, Rose was busy pushing up the window that lead into the living room, so she could climb inside. She could hear Willy stuttering like a cowardly idiot, but ignored it, knowing the delay would help her a lot, assuming the old lady believed him of course.
"Eggs?" she heard the old lady snap. "What the bloody hell are you asking for eggs for at this time of night? Miserable little brat!" Rose rolled her eyes, and slipped in, landing comfortably on the couch. Then she sneaked down the hall, and to the basement door, opening it and running down the stairs as fast as she could. What she found was a truck load of balls, all of them locked in a cage like they were prisoners. The sight was so bizarre, but she ran up to it, pulling out a bobby pin to pick the lock.
"I'll get on from the fridge then, and stop your crying!" croaked the old lady. Rose breathed in sharply when she heard the voice, and waited until she could hear the old bat coming into the kitchen, before she finally slid the open lock out of the hole. The cage door creaked a little as she opened it, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear, and she snatched her ball from the pile, closing the door and locking it again as quickly and quietly as possible.
Willy shifted nervously on his feet. C'mon, Rose. Where are you? he wondered. Soon he heard the footsteps of the old woman coming back, and she handed him the egg. "There," she said grouchily. "Now get out of here!"
"Y-yes ma'am!" he squeaked and practically fled from there. It wasn't until the door shut behind him that he realized Rose was still in there. Panic filled him, and he wondered what he was supposed to do. Should he just wait? Or had she already gotten out of there? Perhaps she had already run out of there and was safe at home right now? No, she wouldn't do that. She would never leave him stranded... would she?
There came a tapping noise from the side of the house, and he turned, staring curiously. He heard it again and slipped over there, spotting a window well on the side of the house, leading into the basement. Running as fast as he could, he kneeled over the edge and looked in. Rose was standing behind the window, pulling it open, and then held up the ball. He couldn't reach it so she tossed it to him. Then she climbed up through the window and stood there, reaching her hands up. He took them and helped pull her out, then they fled down the street, not stopping until they were in front of his house.
"That was too close," he said, catching his breath. She smiled triumphantly, and bounced the ball off the asphalt.
"I can't believe you cried," she said after a minute and he turned red.
"Did not!"
"Please, I could hear you from the kitchen. Crybaby." Willy gave her an even dirtier look and stomped over to his house, but she ran up to him, catching him by the shoulder. "Will," she said softly, and he stopped for reasons beyond him. Whenever she made him angry enough he would swear never to listen to her again, but then all she would have to do is ask and he would do it, no matter how much he hated it.
He stopped and turned to look at her, and she smiled at him. "I couldn't have done it without you, so thanks," she said softly, and kissed his cheek before running off. His cheeks turned more red, and he quietly snuck back into his house.
----
(Years later...)
Willy stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes, looking around his dark room warily. Everything was quiet and calm, nothing unusual or scary in sight. He stood up, unable to stop his mind from racing around his dreams, and walked over to the glass door in his room which led to a small porch that looked out on the town.
It had been so long since he had last dreamed about Rose, and the dreams were always memories of their many 'adventures'. The incident with the ball was one of the very few where he wasn't caught and grounded for weeks. "She's a bad seed," his father had told him so many times. "Stay away from her. She'll only get you into trouble." And she had, many many times. Sometimes, he wondered why he had ever been friends with her, and even now he regretted it. She had been nothing but trouble, even up to the end when he watched her get taken away by a police car.
Shame came over him when he realized there were tears in his eyes, and he brushed them away before they were even big enough to fall. It had been a long time ago, and he had moved on. She had gotten what was coming, harsh as it was, and knowing he would more than likely never see her again gave him a small comfort. But when he had dreams like that, it only meant one thing. She was near again.
It took him a while before he could finally go to bed again, but in time he forgot about her and fell into a pleasantly pointless dream.
----
(A/N: I know I haven't posted anything in months, but it's been hard to think of something new to write lately. Hope this one turns out okay. R&R!)
