Summary: Amidst staying within the confines of a garbage container, one of the four brats who left Willy Wonkas' factory punished; Violet Beauregarde, discovers an odd wooden hatch. She means to just open it up, and peak at what lies behind the lid, but she ends up falling right on in. After enduring a long fall, and a short period coma, she wakes up in a new world with twin Things willing to care for her.
As the days leading to Christmas go by, negative feelings, alongside reveals of downcasted behavior and buried memories surface for Violet. Seeing this, Things 2 and 1 wish to lend her help in finding positivity. And in turn, she may be able to help them out with their own present difficulties. It'll all depend on the availability of achieving great acceptance, concerning the kindness for others, and the kindness for ones' self.
A/N: Ater a long while of having inner debates and cycling thoughts, I've decided that this idea of mine deserves to be created. Even though it means seriously halting my other stories, I want to write out a special idea and cross over. So here we are with "Violet and the Twin Things 2 and 1". It's certainly a strange combination of characters, but I full-heartily believe it can work.
And so without further ado, I'll let the beginning of this story unfold.
In all instances where one person or more might look upon snow, certain feelings would surge forth in one-to-many ways. At the least of times, disgust or admiration would flow past turning-cold lips. At other times, facial expressions ranging from deep frowns to wide grins, would be formed. And at most times, physical contact involving stomps to simplistic steps, and gloved hands lightly touching or pushing through a mound, would be the chosen type of mood display toward winters' natural weather.
Regarding the stance of Violet Beauregarde, she didn't make herself feel nothing but indifferent. In fact, she was rather uncaring about the waves of sleet she was passing under. She did not bother to open her mouth to substitute breathing for her clogged nostrils, even if a urge to yell were to prod her tongue. She did not bother to give a care to how she was dragging her feet, even if her exposed ankles had to constantly endure high levels of cold. And she did not bother to shove her bare hands into her jackets' pockets, even if their freezing state caused some amounts of irritating hurt.
As Violet forced her shivering self through the 30° temperature, it was the last day of November. Several days had pasted since the Beauragarde girl had began being on her own. Every day since then, she'd always tread down and around four-to-six city blocks, viva alleyways and street crossings. After she'd reach the crossing block limit, she would set out looking for some shelter to spend the night in. She was open to stay in any place that offered some stable roof and walls, only if she was alone in a full manner. Her success on finding any such places, came in the forms of one long abandoned store, and multiple dumpsters with and without contained garbage.
Currently, she had finally made it through the second city block. Two cars nearly collided with her, and each other, as she crossed the street. After she passed over over to the next block, the agitated sounds of car horns tried to cast shame onto her. She succeeded in not paying any mind, as she now stood in front of certain building. While the glass windows and glass slide doors showed no lights on within, a glance up at the giant labeling plastered above, was all someone needed to identify what type of place it is.
A Gym, a singular building of a few containing exercise facilities. If someone wanted to lose some pounds, dish out built up stress productively, or just maintain their fitness, this was the place to go. It was free to any mature, decently behaved man or woman. And despite what some people would think, any judgements any person could make weren't spoken, as a Gym was not a social hub.
As the Beauregarde girl stared at the Gyms' name, a flicker of a frown tainted her lips. Her eyes then opted to glare, with her hands rising up. With a strong and sudden pull, she yanked the black beanie donning her head down. She was able to make it reach her eyebrows, and decided to leave the brimless cap there. After she deconstructed her glare into a neutral expression, she gave the whole building before her a few seconds left of a stare. Once those seconds came and went, she turned leftward and pressed on.
While Violet let her hands twitch against her sides, she passed by a line of stores. After reading off the first two signs placed above their individual doors, she gave the rest of the following stores a quick glance. Although she could barely make out what each distant sign had for a title, Violet averted her eyes with a fierce look down. She proceeded on walking like that, not daring to lift her sight from her shoes. It was due to her identifying very certain words, in which gave some idea to what the stores had for food stock, as well as striking some sensitive strings of her mood.
Each step she took passing by one store to the other, was given further strength. She started out with simple, restrained steps leaving normal shoe marks. Along the way her steps turned into purposeful pulling limps, letting the tips and sides of her footwear brush against ground. By the time she reached the last store, her feet resorted to rapid-paced stomps, with an occasional dragged kick launching a wall of snow up into the air. And throughout the risen anger fit, even with some bits of snow having flown onto her face, she held back every ounce of vile sounds behind a vibrating mouth.
Some time after passing those stores and taking a right turn, Violet ceased her stomps, and had finally raised her head back up to see where she was going. She locked her glare deflating eyes onto the nearby entry point of a alleyway, setting it as her next destination. Making her steps start treading rightward, she gave her immediate environment a swift look-around. The falling ice crystals were beginning to descend at a faster pace. The large building she was walking by, seemed to be mostly formed into a mound by the weather. And as her field of vision was starting to worsen, the road and every establishment lying across the street were becoming unrecognizable.
Seeing such sights had made Violet divert most of her focus to them. She was so drawn to watching the shift from normal snowfall to apparent blizzard that, when her foot suddenly slipped forward, she was fully taken aback. She could only react with wildly thrown out, shaking arms and a yelp before she was sent flying. And then as she landed on her back, a crumpled crunch sounded out from beneath her.
Rolling over with a fist hitting the ground, the Beauregarde girl looked toward the spot she landed. The cause of the crunching sound, as well as her slipping, was a mostly snow covered round arrangement of leaves and twisted flowers. Grabbing the curious circle with a knuckles-baring grip, she brought it closer to get a better viewing. Little broken lights were entwined deeply within the leaves, which were on the brink of death alongside the dry red flowers. It took her a few thought-prodding seconds until she recognized it as a long disposed, broken-spirit Christmas wreath. While the sight of it would make some others either feel sorrow or plain nothing, Violet let her glare reform for a moment. And then she returned to her feet, tossing the stupid-slid causing creation aside
Forcing her mouth to stay shut, she hurried on over to the alleyway. Once she entered the narrow passage, she paced through the most of it until she saw a left wall-positioned dumpster. After she gave the heavy snowstorm weather a contemplating stare, she groaned. Then she pressed her palm against her scalp, and hurried on over to the dumpster. She wasn't going to dare go marching through the storm.
Driving her left arm into the snow covering the large trash receptacle, Violet slid it back and forth to clear the ice matter off. Once she had gotten enough off for her to see the wide lid, she directed her trembling fingers to the latches keeping the lid fully closed. After the lockless latches were lifted, she maneuvered over to the side. While there was some difficulty was faced in the task, the Beauregarde girl was able to raise the lid up. As she pushed the lid back toward the wall as far as she could, her dark tinted gaze peered into the dumpsters' interior. All that laid inside was a singular black trash bag, and it didn't take up any space beyond half length.
Finding this to be acceptable, Violet kept one hand holding the lid up as the other grabbed the dumpsters' edge. Then she slowly brought herself over the dumpsters' wall, and set herself down while letting the lid lower bit-by-bit. As her strength to hold the hinged cover began to stress, her free hand was sent diving into her jackets' small compartments. Upon searching through a half of the four pockets, she had pulled out a short but thick wooden stick. She placed the stick on the outline edge, and held it there as she slowly lowered the lid as much as possible. When her hand strength gave away, the lid only fell a few inches, causing the stick to barely be dented and for it to stay in place.
Letting out a long, mostly relieved breath, the pre-teen ran her hands through all pockets. Items that she had previously ignored, along with others she hadn't touched so far that day and since a week or two, were brought out one by one. She set them down into forming a long line. Then as she set her eyes on each individual item, she brought them up close to for examining. All that she had on her person was: Two flimsy dollars, an almost finished up protein bar, a crunched up empty plastic bottle, a butter knife, a small box of matches containing only some in number, and a candle placed in a small rounded cup and rolled up in protective blue wrapping.
After doing the quick count and check of her belongings, she went on to push everything but the candle, butter knife, and box of matches back against the wall. Once that was done, she easily removed the candles' wrapping and set the paper aside. Then she opened the box of matches, pulled out one of the slender pieces of wood, and struck the red tip across the side of the box. As the flame sparked to life, it was directed over to the recently inserted, new tiny wick. Once the fire lit the wick, she pulled the match over and blew it out.
Now having two lights, instead of just the outside world peering in, Violet picked up the butter knife. After she carefully brought the trash bag to her, she stuck the knife into the near-top part of it. She proceeded to pull the silverware piece over to the left, adding force to the action by pressing her clenched palm against the steel. Then she sharply yanked the knife down, making the cut-through plastic flap out to the right. The gathered crushed cans, spoiled seeming foods, and other junk associated items were revealed to her. After she made sure to push the candle away some spaces, the dark haired girl did not hesitate, and launched her equally shaded hands into the into the pile.
All that she focused on out was the food. Every piece of edible material that she got her hands on, she would see if any still had gold nature for eating. For most of the food, one long good look was all that was needed. For the least pieces of food, some small tasting bites were required. And at the end of her checking, she unfortunately discovered that everything was rotten and spoiled.
Making herself only huff in disappointment, and not give into the low urge of sating her hunger by eating garbage, Violet placed all of the waste-food back into the bag. She then pushed the bag back until it met the far wall. Knowing that it was all she had for the night, the protein bar was grabbed and raised up. Laying a hand underneath the bar, she shook the mostly silver-colored covering. What came out was a measly, flat chocolate coated square. She easily plopped it into her mouth, let it sit on top of her tongue for a while, and then began chewing down on it.
The bitter-sweet taste that started harboring her mouth, made Violet lean her head back against the dumpster wall. A feeling of utter unpleasantness had surged from each miniature bite she took. When the feeling grew to the point where it was beyond bothering, she rested her right palm against her forehead. While the cold air that flew into the dumpster lashed at her exposed skin, a whole other problem rose up in her brain. Terrible experiences and memories were remembered vividly, which caused her lips to quiver and her irises to blink rapidly.
As she started to swallow the crushed pieces of her only meal, the lonesome girl pushed her legs out. Her whole body started shaking. Her fingers began bending, letting their nails scratch at both her forehead, and at the air. Frustration that was held behind a mouth she forcefully kept shut, was leaking out in the form of growing loud breaths and mumbles. And her face, which had shown expressions containing little-to-some levels of her emotions, was now emitting every ounce in all corners.
Amidst her display of previously locked down feelings, she had lifted her foot up and immediately brought it down. Setting her sights on the trembling leg that was standing, Violet let her mouth spread and form a actual frown. She raised the foot and slammed it right back down. Then she did it again, and again, and continued to do so for many moments. Unlike the progression from walking to stomping, the weight she each foot slam was fully coming out from her. There were no restraints, no pull backs, and no automatic inner attempt of disregard. She was pissed, very close to being livid, and needed to release those feelings here and now.
The duration of the many foot slams reached its end when something peculiar transpired. The last fast lowering of her foot to the dumpster floor, was twisted into being a sliding kick barring her heel. Once the foot dropped and the kick happened, the repeatedly hit piece of the floor, suddenly slid off to the side. Seeing this immediately, she stopped her foot slams and let out a confused noise. Slowly she scooted herself over to the loose floor piece, instinctively putting the box of matches and dollars away in her jacket. When she reached the piece, she pulled her legs back in order to sit cross-legged, and then used her hands to push the floor piece aside as far as she could.
What lied underneath was a red shaded, wooden square hatch. It was slightly open, and had bright color lights peaking out. It was essentially embedded into the ground, and the mystery of why made Violet become shortly troubled. She had started to lower her hands toward it, but stopped herself before she could open. There was however, a powerful genuine warmth emitting from the hatch. And it was due to that warmth, one that her hands desperately needed, that she inched her fingers closer to the separation line between hatch and lid. And then with a deep intake of air filling her nostrils, she pulled the lid up and looked down into hatch.
There was many entwining swirls, extended thorns and zigzags, and twirling lines that would form temporary tree branches. They all had sketch patterns that constructed their shapes and lengths. Within and surrounding each sketch line, two or more of a few spectacular colors were present. Said colors were the many kind tints and shades of: red, white, black, blue, green, and yellow. And while they seemed to float about freely, there was a long spiral section of descending cloud-like columns, leading to some small and far red shape.
Instinctively grabbing her butter knife and gently bringing the candle up, the intrigued Beauregarde leaned down. She tried to make out the far red shape, squinting her eyes in an effort. But despite her taken tries, she couldn't fathom what unmoving shape it was. Irritation stirred up her anger right back up, in which made her lean herself more downward. Then before she could notice it, her knife wielding hand knocked itself against the lifted hatch lid, causing it to shot down onto her. That motion, combined with a surging gravitational pull the hole passage was giving out, made the girl fall right in.
The experience of rapidly decent was like skydiving. Fun for some, fear-driving for others. By her emerged screams and frantic swinging limbs, Violet was outright frightened. Each column or sketched shape that she shot towards, made critical terror spread throughout her body. Even as she phased through each dual collection of red and white, and black and blue, superior chills to that of snow enveloped her whole body. And as she plunged closer to the now telling shape of another hatch, the forming heat was giving her unbearable pains to counter the cold.
It wasn't before long the girl crashed into the easily open-able hatch. As the lid simply flipped up, her body shot up into the air. She twisted around whilst shrieking for dear life, catching swift glimpses of only white and black. Then she met the ground face-first with a thud. And for some moments, she remained in that planted position.
With her body being weak with misery, she could almost move nothing. The only limb that she could manage to move was her head. So with a short motion to raise and tilt it, she allowed her watery eyes to see where she was. All that she could make out was black, if not dark-brown trees, along with many placements of soft falling snow. A forest, with no path going forward from her prone body.
Violet Beauregarde dropped her head and pressed it against the snow ground. A few hiccups left her mouth, with tears sliding away from her eyes. She lay there, not knowing what to do or how to remedy this. Seconds passed by, then minutes, and soon a hour. Within such time, the sorrowful girls' overbearing exhaustion forced her to slumber. And thus the falling snow began to cover her up.
As she lay there in comatose, a small furred rodent had appeared from the leftward wood, and jumped onto her. It tapped at her beanie-worn head, and then squeaked. No sooner after it did, three more of its kind came from the same direction. And after them came the crunching of boots, belonging to two tall, hooded males
The first rodent left the girls' back, and hopped down onto the ground to join the others. Now as the four cream furred troop gathered some feet away, they watched as the two males approached the unconscious girl. They crouched down and went on to sweep off the snow covering her back. Then after one of them turned her over, they stopped all movement. The sight of girls' face, hands, and ankles being purple-skinned struck up puzzled expressions. Just as they quickly came however, they were gone with one of two males nudging the other urgently.
As the male with a backpack donning his back nodded, the male with a button sticking to his chest lowered his ear. He let it hover above her mouth, waiting to hear a breath. When he heard her breathe, he proceeded to raise the girls' upper body. He placed his left arm underneath, followed by his right being set behind her knees. Then with a easy stand up, the button wearer brought the unconscious girl up in his arms. He exchanged glances with the backpack-wearer, who had gave the group of quadruple rodents some appreciation treats. Then they looked to the 'hatch', and then to her. And once they made their gazes meet again, they both nodded.
As the backpack wearer started walking over to the 'hatch', the button wearer turned right around. And with no delay he darted off, hurrying back through the woods from whence they came.