Hello,
my name is Charlie and if you're reading this I may not be around anymore, I'd like to think that maybe i'm still around but the chances of that being true seem slim at this point. I have to start out by warning you, Wonka is a crazy man, don't let him pull you in with his witty jokes and fumbling antics, he's a truly disturbed sociopath. He thrives on watching people suffer.
It all started when my grandfather and I decided to go on a "magical" trip to the candy factory. If the freak, Wonka, slips up, and somehow the truth gets out about us, you may already know me and several other children were promised a world of wonder and amazement and all of the candy we could imagine when we went to that dark factory that was looming over our dank little city.
I've been in here for three years. Three years of candy. Sounds like every kid's dream, right? Nope. Not if you enjoy fighting for your life every day and watching as your only friends die around you. Not to mention my teeth have began to rot out of my head. I'm really starting to wonder if the infection from my teeth is going to get me before they do.
Well, this is not the point of my letter, the point of my letter is to let you know that Wonka can not be trusted. I want you, dear reader, to tell my story. Let the world see the true side of Wonka.
It was early winter in God only knows what year.. I was 13 at the time. The other children and I took our tickets and brought our chaperone to the gate of Wonka's Candy Factory. All of us were teeming with excitement at the thought of going home in the evening with bellies full of candy. Wonka walked toward the gate, he was a tall man, built like a coat rack, with curls that spiraled like smoke out of the chimneys of his factory. He waddled forward and did a bit of a jig, he kept up such a great appearance when he had the outside world's eyes on him. I knew I was going to like him. He seemed so fun and carefree and who wouldn't like a man who makes chocolate and candy his life's work? He opened the gates and Veruca, August, Violet, Mike and I stampeded in. We were five kids ready to take on this "magical" land. Oh the stories we would have for our friends when we got home. Grandpa Joe followed slowly behind us with the other chaperones and they small-talked about the weather.. or whatever adults talk about. It felt like a grand parade, music was playing, bells were chiming, everything was perfect. The doors swung open to the factory and we were all rushed inside. It was everything I expected. A beautiful land made of chocolate, taffy, licorice, any candy you could imagine. The doors closed and locked out the rest of the world and I knew that this was going to be the best day ever. The chaperones were informed that there was a room that they could wait in until we were done with our adventure. A room for older men and women who have silly things like diabetes and high blood pressure. Violet, Mike, August, Veruca and I were perfectly ok with that. We knew that the adults would probably ruin our fun anyway by setting limits on how much we ate. Wonka gave us a wonderful tour of the factory with a lovely boat ride, a serene walk through lollipop forest and we ended our tour next to a lake made entirely of chocolate. Wonka leaned towards us, eyes wide with excitement, "Do you children want to see how I made this wonderful paradise?" Of course we did! Who wouldn't want to find out how he made this "magical" place? He pulled out a whistle from his suit pocket and blew it three times. A trap door about ten feet away from us slid open and that's when we saw them. They looked about the same size as us children, their skin was the shade of the gray sky outside of the factory, with hints of yellow thrown in. They, I assume, had blonde hair at some point but it looked as if some sort of chemical had caused it to turn a sickly shade of green.