A/N Own nothing that doesn't belong to me. Hi, I wrote this a long time ago and its been sitting on my computer not going anywhere. I'm not really sure I like it since its not really the kind of story I like to read, but maybe you guys will. Thanks to my beta for not caring that I send her huge files of writings full of grammatical errors.

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Chapter 1 Who Am I?

I stood outside the chocolate factory, waiting for something. I wasn't sure what. All I know is that I needed to speak to Mr. Wonka. I just needed to know one thing. My life had been turned upside down, more than normal these past couple months and he is the only man who could help answer one question for me. Who is my father?

I am no one. My mother is, well was, a whore. She was a crazed moron obsessed with drugs and willing to do anything for it. I am surprised I am still alive. She was crazy anyhow so I never knew what to believe. She told me that when she first started out many years ago, 26 to be exact, that she came upon a pale boy celebrating his 16th birthday. Apparently this boy had a lot going for him, his new factory had been open for almost a full year and he wanted something that he couldn't get on his own. My mother always called me a hazard in her job. She claimed that I was the daughter of Willy Wonka, owner of the largest chocolate factory in the world.

My mother died from god knows what a few months back. I wouldn't be surprised if a number of diseases were eating away at her throughout my whole life. I told myself I would never be like that. I would be clean. Life is never the way you plan. I never went to school. I don't even know how to read much. I can count money quicker than a banker though. I'll admit I've done more than my fair share of drugs and I have whored myself out to get a get a meal. I hate myself for it and I always promise myself I will make up for it. I will not be her in the end.

I stood outside that chocolate factory, wishing like everyone else that Willy Wonka would show his face. I didn't want anything from him. I didn't want his money. I didn't want his secret recipes. I didn't even want a damn chocolate bar. I just wanted to know who I was. Was my mother really crazy? Am I an accident caused by the Willy Wonka?

I began to walk around the large factory until I reached a small side gate. I smiled to myself wondering if anyone used it. If I lived in there I would. Everyone and anyone would see if I walked through the main gates. I stood there inhaling the chocolate. It really wasn't my favorite smell. I never tasted chocolate, but I didn't like the smell so I was never even curious. A young teenage boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen came up beside me.

"It's a great factory, isn't it?" The boy was looking at the building like it was the greatest place in the world. To me it was just a factory. There would be machines inside and most likely a lot of candy. If Mr. Wonka really lived in there then maybe there would be a nice bed and maybe a large kitchen stocked full of food.

"I guess," I replied to the boy. "I wonder if he gets a lot of mail." I had thought of just sending him a letter. I could spare the few cents to get his attention just to ask him if he thought it was possible. One look at me should be able to tell him something. I look nothing like my mother. She was of average height, very curvy, blonde, blue eyes, tan, with a round face. I am fairly tall, around 5'10, so tall at least for a girl. I am incredibly thin, but that could just be due to years of malnutrition, crack and other such things. My hair is a dark auburn color, not quite dark brown but not quite red, just the perfect shade in between. My eyes are a dark emerald color. They are my favorite feature. I am also very pale no matter how much time I spend outside.

"He gets a lot. Everyone wants to know all about the different candies he has going and they all want meet him, of course."

"I figured that. I just have one question for him and it's not about candy." I wondered what made this kid think he was an expert on Mr. Wonka, but shrugged it off. It was really common sense that he would get lots of fan mail.

"What question?"

This kid sure was nosy wasn't he? "It's none of your business." I sighed to myself. There probably was no well in hell I would ever get that man's attention.

The young teen smirked at me and unlocked the small gate. He closed it once he was inside and continued to smirk at me. I frowned back at him. Well no wonder the kid knew how much mail he gets. It must have been Charlie Bucket, the kid that won the golden ticket contest a couple years ago. "So do you want to ask me the question?"

I wasn't sure I did. "Ok, my mother told me a few times that I was Willy Wonka's daughter. I wanted to know if she was a crazy bitch or if some amount of sanity ran through that brain."

"Who was your mother?"

"Her name was Driana Mazer." I saw the boy repeat the name to himself. He was actually going to ask for me.

"Ok, I will ask him. I will be here about the same time tomorrow if you want to hear the answer." I nodded and checked the time. It made sense; the schools had just let out not too long ago. I would just have to go and amuse myself for a day. I began to head away from the factory and wondered what the next day would bring. I had some money saved up from my last scheme so I got myself some dinner and slept in the park.