MEMO: I DO NOT OWN CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY
I ONLY OWN MARIE.
The bitter wind whipped around Marie's face as she walked the snow covered streets. Hugging herself tightly to warm up the slightest bit, she walked to her home; a small cottage at the end of the streets. Even with her employment at the local sweet shop, there still wasn't enough for her family. Despite her parent's comments about leaving high school at the age of fifteen, she still tried to help her family. Trying so hard when she surrounded by delicious sweets of every kind for eight hours everyday for four years.
Along her way home, she would stop by the factory that made those delicious sweets. The only thing that separated the factory and her was a pair of iron gates. Dreaming of that day when she'll be able to walk through them. Sighing and shivering from the cold, she hurried home.
"I'm home." She said as she burst in through the door. Closing it so the cold breeze won't chill her family's bones, she hung her scarf and jacket on a pair of nails by the door.
"Hello Marie." Mrs. Bucket greeted her daughter. "Dinner will be ready soon." She said as she chomped half a cabbage in half.
Marie's eyes flickered to sorrow, knowing not enough money can be made on her behave for more food. To take her mind off such things, she went to greet her grandparents, whom all four lay on a single bed all day.
"Evening Grandpa George, Grandma Georgina." She greeted first, and then went to the other side. "Evening Grandpa Joe, Grandma Josephine."
"Nice that your home Mar." Grandpa Joe smiled. It was a nickname he had given her since she was a little girl. It was shorter and easier to say that her real name.
Marie sat next to the bed and listened to one of Grandpa Joe's stories about the factory. It was fascinating for her. It made her wonder even more what the factory looked in the inside, and how Mister Wonka is too. Just as he finished his story, Mr. Bucket came bustling through the door.
"Hi dad." Marie greeted with a warm smile.
"Hello darling." Placing his hat, jacket and scarf down, he sat at the small table where Mrs. Bucket had started serving dinner. Only Marie and her parents sat at the table since her grandparents ate with a bowl on their laps.
After dinner, Marie helped her mother with the dishes and then bid her family a goodnight. As she lay on her bed looking up towards the dingy wooden ceiling, she wished something good to happen to her family.
That night, motorcycles left the factory to post flyers around the town.
The next morning, Marie woke up to cold air leaking in through the crakes and tiny openings around the house. Going downstairs, she sat at the table with her father and ate a piece of toast before bidding a farewell and going to work. Her walk was unnaturally slow. Her sea blue eyes looking down at her torn shoes stepping on the snow; her path to work was unnecessarily printed on her mind. Except this time, a little boy had run in front of her making her stop and look up.
People, many of them, were circled around a post. Lifting her head more up, she tried looking for the thing that was causing all the commotion. But her height had made it physically impossible to see over the people. Looking around, she saw that every post had a sign posted up. Jogging down the street, she came face to face with one and read its contents carefully.
'I, Willy Wonka, have decided to allow five children to enter my factory. In addition, one of these lucky children will get a surprise at the end. Five Golden Tickets have been hidden under ordinary wrappers of five ordinary Wonka candy bars. The five candy bars can be anywhere in the world. The five lucky finders of the Golden Tickets will be allowed to enter. Good luck to you all, and happy hunting.
Willy Wonka'
Marie stared at the sign speechless. Her eyes scanning the sign over at least five times before realizing, it's real. A smile had crawled itself onto her pink lips as she realized, she too can be one of the lucky five.
But the harsh reality tumbled down on her like boulders. She can. But she won't. The odds are unbelievable, with no money, how can she even buy one candy bar? With a frown, she continued her way to work, when upon arriving, was filled with people trying to buy Wonka Bars.
"Marie! Hurry up and get back here" Her boss yelled out.
Quickly, she made her way behind the counter, threw off her jacket and replaced it with an apron. The morning was tiring as adults came in the buy at least ten candy bars; it got worse when school was let out and children were coming in. Her shift was longer than any other day. She was at ease, yet disappointed, when the last candy bar was sold. Hanging up her apron and grabbing her jacket, she told her boss she was leaving.
"I'm going to need you to be here earlier tomorrow." Her boss ordered her. She nodded, put her jacket on and walked out the shop to the cold snow filled streets.
Like every day after work, she would stand in front of the iron gates of the factory and hoped they would open up for her. Now with this hunt going on, her hope for getting in was higher. With one last look, she turned around and started for her home. Her parent's must be worried.
"Marie." Mrs. Bucket said her name with relief.
"Sorry I'm late. The shop was just packed with a bunch of people trying to buy those candy bars; all because of those Golden Tickets."
"We heard." Grandpa George said.
"It won't be long before someone finds the first one." Mrs. Bucket said as she began stirring the cabbage soup.
"Why would he decided to let five children see the factory?" Marie wondered out loud.
"Well, whatever he was thinking, it'll be amazing to see what the factory looks like from the inside." Grandma Josephine said.
"Bet it would." I smiled but then frowned. "Though I'll never have a chance to find one of those Golden Tickets; I rarely buy a bar."
"That's not true, you have much as a chance as any other kid." Mrs. Bucket said.
"Nonsense, the only children that are going to find them is the ones that'll be able to afford boxes of those candy bars." Grandpa George said. "The finder of the first ticket is going to be fat. Mark my words."