Reya went to her room to turn in for the night around 10:30ish, not bothering to say good night to anyone downstairs. When she had stepped in her room, the first thing she did was grab for the little blue purse and unzipped the small pocket. She did it so eagerly her finger scraped against the blade inside and she jumped, pulling her finger back for a breif moment. A trickle of blood began to flow and she stuffed it in her mouth, licking off the blood quickly. It didn't even hurt that much.
It was too quiet and she couldn't take it. Turning around she turned her radio on to the heavy rock and had it playing lightly so her little sister wouldn't hear it and wake up. The speaker rambled on and on about garbage, dissing everyone, and it made her laugh at times. She wasn't completely inhumane.
Her shirt slid off slowly, sometimes snagging onto the scabs of old ones, and she took her blade and began to work. Her mind was focused on the music, and her eyes weren't always looking. Why would she need to see what she was doing? It was going to look ugly either way. She felt like an animal, a sick wretched filthy animal, and she cut deeper. Her arms were feeling wet and sticky, but she didn't stop. She physically couldn't. It had become a morbid addiction that no she knew of understood. Almost no one knew about it either, because she didn't bother to tell them. It wasn't like they cared anyway.
She didn't stop, and she knew she had to. Her body was on fire again but she couldn't control her hands. She knew she needed to cut. It was what she deserved for being such a sick, wretched, slut. At the word 'slut' she cut harder than ever and tears stung her eyes.
Without warning, she dropped the blade on the bed, and it took amazing self control not to pick it up, or even think about it. She spoke to her body, as if she were a mother comforting a child on the virge of a tantrum. "It's okay," she whispered to herself. "Just sit still. You're done. It's okay, you're done. Don't even look at it. Don't even think about it. It's okay..."
It took an hour, but she finally was able to put the blade away and hide it from her parents. Once she had, she looked at the clock. 1:15am. Tears were still falling down her face, and she walked over, gently turning the radio off and slipped into bed, falling asleep fitfully.
-
When Reya came home from school she found a note taped on the door from her mother that read, "Gone out to Christmas shop with Mrs. Kenny. Be back around six. Spare key is sitting on top of the red truck. Love You!"
Reya turned. The spare key was on the same keychain that her father's work truck keys were on. The red truck was there, but the work truck was gone, and taped on the red truck was another note. She sighed and grabbed it, reading it. "Working late tonight. Back door should be unlocked. Love, Dad." Reya rolled her eyes and groaned. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered to herself. There was a crack of thunder, so she ran to the back door, trying to get in before it rained.
Grabbing the handle (it was a sliding glass door) she tugged, and just her luck, it was locked. "No way," she growled, tugging again. She ran to the front of the house and tried the front door. It was locked, and so were the windows. There was another crack of thunder and the rain came down on her. She shivered and looked up to the heavens. "OKAY! THAT LAST BIT DEFINITELY FELT LIKE MONDAY!" She could almost hear God laughing at her in response, and she groaned, deciding to go to Aunt Cookies and wait it out. As she walked down the sidewalk, she looked at the benches, seeing if her friendly stalker was there. For once, she didn't see him, and she shrugged.
She stepped into Aunt Cookies, and realized for the first time, what a wonderful thing heat was. She ordered her sub and played pinball while she waited. Her hair was half frozen, she was dripping wet and freezing, and a cough was getting ready to come out. She was a sight, so it was no wonder she heard the next few words.
"My dear girl, are you insane?" she heard the voice say. "Where's your coat?" She waited till the little metal ball went out of place and turned to Mr. Wonka, shivering and shrugged.
"In my house," she said. "Which is locked right now, and won't open till around six, so I've got..." She looked at the clock. "Three hours to freeze to death!" She turned and started again.
"That won't do at all," he said, shaking his head. The ball went out of place again it was game over for Reya. She groaned and turned.
"Yeah," she laughed. "My mom leaves a note, saying to use the spare key. My dad leaves a note saying he had to work, which means the spare key went with him since it's on his keychain. But he says the back door's unlocked. The back door's locked! Honestly people, a little brain power goes a long way." Willy snickered and nodded.
"That it does, dear girl."
"Sub's up!" called the lady behind the counter. Reya walked over to grab it. "For here or to go?"
"To go," said Willy, before Reya could answer. "You're coming over to my place to dry off. Can't have you dying from pneumonia, a cold, or chilliwompers."
"From what?" she asked, looking at him as she reached for her sub.
"They're dreadful creatures that freeze your blood until you become stiff as a popcycle. You do not want to catch one of those do you?" She nodded, thinking he was slightly touched in the head.
"I guess not," she muttered.
"Then come with me. We'll get you into some dry clothes and warm you right up. Let's not doddle. Time is a precious thing. Never waste it." She nodded, holding in a laugh and followed him out of the sub shop and over to the beautiful chocolate factory. As they walked, she hugged herself for warmth, not able to stop thinking of the chilliwhatevers Willy had mentioned before, even though she doubted they were real. The disadvantage of wearing dark clothes was they took forever to dry off. She had a longsleeved black T-shirt with a wide neck line what went across her shoulders so her clolar bones were visible, goosebumps and all. Her pants were black with suspenders that she had clipped in the back so it was in the shape of an 'x'. And of course, Converse All Star sneakers were not waterproof, even if they were green.
When they got to the chocolate factory, they ran to the door and stepped in as fast as possible. "You know," she said as he took off his coat and hung it. "You really should consider getting a car."
"I saw no need for one, young lady, seeing that I rarely leave this place and the town is a five minute walk, if that." He turned to her and was smiling like he almost always did. "Now, if you come with me, we'll get you into something warm. I'm sure I have something in your size."
"For girls?" she asked.
"Yes, naturally, unless you'd like to be a transvestite, which I am quite sure will disturb the oompa-loompas greatly." She laughed and shook her head.
"Wasn't planning to," she laughed. "Don't exactly roll that way. But if it's just you, and the oompa-loompas, why do you have girls clothes?"
"No harm in being prepared for cats who keep coming back, like you my dear girl."
"Hey, you invited me!" she pointed out.
"That I did. Now come with me, you're dripping water all over the floor." She glanced down at the floor, then nodded.
"Sorry," she said, and he led her down the hall, into a different part of the factory she'd never been in. For once, she was in a hall that looked normal, which was a little shocking for this place. He opened a door and they stepped into, what had to be his bedroom. It was large, very colorful, and there was a monster sized bed that looked so comfy. She'd give anything to spend one night in it. "Whoa," she muttered. "Really big room."
"You know what they say, the bigger the better, right?" She nodded.
"My bedroom is a shoebox, it's so tiny."
"I'll be right back," he said, turning to the door. "Wait here, and make yourself at home."
She nodded and he left, leaving her to look around in wonder. The bed still looked so squashy, and since her was gone... she grinned and half ran to it, sitting on it and flopping back. It felt even better than it looked and she giggled. Then she remembered her wet clothes and quickly got off, wiping at it with her sleeve. There were footsteps in the hall, so she quickly turned to the wall, pretending to be admiring a painting.
"That's one of my favorites as well," he said, looking up at it. "Starry Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh (a/n: something like that)."
"It's very pretty," she said. "I like paintings with darker colors, like blues and things." She turned to look at him and he handed her a pair of black sweat/pajama pants, and a black hooded sweatshirt.
"I figured you'd want them in your favorite color," he said, smiling. She smiled back and nodded.
"Thanks," she said.
"Meet me in the chocolate room when you're done. You do remember where it is, don't you?"
"Yeah," she said, thinking back and playing it out in her head. "Yeah, I remember."
"Alright then," he said, and left her alone to change. She was standing in front of the mirror as she dressed, and was a little surprised at what she saw. Her stomach, shoulders, arms, and part of her chest were covered in ugly red burning worms, and she hurried to get the sweatshirt on, for fear of him walking in and seeing it. She changed her pants faster, and took off her wet socks and shoes in an attempt to get her feet to warm up a bit.
When she was ready, she grabbed her sub and walked, barefooted, down the hall, finding her way to the chocolate room easily enough. But she didn't see Wonka anywhere. Shrugging she walked around, admiring the veiw and waiting till he decided to turn up. When she stopped again to admire the chocolate river something poked into her sides, a little bellow the ribs, and she jumped nearly a mile high because she was extremely ticklish. A pair of hands grabbed onto her shoulders before she could fall into the river, and a voice started laughing heartily.
"A little ticklish, are we my pet?" asked Willy Wonka as he looked at her from over her shoulder.
"A little," she said, catching her breath and laughing a little.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself. Although, with the river in front of you, that could've turned out worse. You would've gotten caught in the suction and taken to the fudge room with the boiling pot, yes. But even worse, the chocolate would've been contamintated." She snickered and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, thanks!" she said sarcastically. He beamed and they walked over to a patch of candy grass and sat down so she could eat her sub.
"So what are you doing over the weekend?" he asked her. She looked at her watch which showed the date on it.
"It's friday?" she cried. "Holy cow, it feels like a monday. Oh, I'm not really doing anything. I'm a lazy couch potato, especially in the winter. There's not much to do."
"Of course there is! Have a snowball fight, build a snowman, go sledding."
"It's too cold, my sister hates building snowmen, and we don't have a sled." He chuckled.
"I'm sure you don't," he laughed and she snickered. "That's the saddest excuse I've heard yet for avoiding going outside."
"I just don't like to. I like to admire the snow, draw pictures of it and stuff. It's fun."
"Ah, so you're an artist?"
"Stick figures are my specialty," she answered, smiling.
"That's more than I can do," he chuckled.
"But you're an artist in a different way," she said gesturing to the room around them. "All of this is creativity at work. You're an artist through candy."
"That is true. And most say I'm very good at it."
"Well you are. I mean, look at this place!" He sighed and looked down.
"But most people think of me, or in most cases tell it to my face, that I'm a mad man."
"But that shouldn't stop you from doing what you love," she said, thinking it was strange for him, of all people, to be saying that. "You shouldn't worry about what other people think of you." Then he looked at her, his mood and normal character returning.
"So then why do you?" he asked. She looked up, realizing she'd just fallen into a trap. He was so clever.
"I never said I did," she answered.
"Then are you willing to tell me what happened two days ago?"
"Not to be rude, sir," she said in a polite tone. "But that really isn't any of your business." He nodded in agreement.
"You're right, it isn't. I just wanted to make sure is was nothing too serious."
"It wasn't," she said shaking her head. "Just had a bad day. We all get them, right?"
"Indeed we do. It's, unfortunetly, unavoidable, like death and taxes."
"The two things we can count on in life," she laughed. He smiled and nodded. "You know what's strange?" she said after a minute. "We've hung out for almost a week, and we still don't know that much about each other. Other than the obvious I mean."
"What would you like to know?" he asked. She shrugged, realizing she had no questions as soon as he had asked her.
"I don't know," she laughed, and he chuckled. "Let's play 'I've Never'." He nodded.
"I've never been to a theatre," he started with. Her eyes widened.
"Never? Holy cow! Do you not watch movies at all?"
"Oh, I do watch them," he said shrugging. "When they're released on VHS or DVD that is. Easy way to avoid obsessive fans, my dear girl."
"Well, I've never... gone to a school dance."
"Me neither," he chuckled.
"You were homeschooled!" she laughed. "Of course you didn't."
"I've never been attacked by a vermicious knid. I came close a few times, but I never have."
"I've never heard of a vermicious knid." He laughed and she smiled.
"What are they teaching you in these schools?" he asked, looking at her.
"Crap," she answered. "A lot of stuff we're never going to use in the real world."
"That's not entirely true," he said, shaking his head. "Math, and reading skills are absolutely needed in absolutely everything. You simply cannot start a job and not know how to add, subtract, or any of those other things. And if you are illiterate, then what can you do at all?"
"Touché," she replied.
"Although, honestly, what sort of school does not teach children about vermicious knids? How do they expect them to avoid them?"
"Ignorance is bliss," she muttered.
"But it's very unwise," he answered. "My turn isn't it?"
"I think so... yeah." She took another bite out of her sub.
"I've never owned a pet."
"You haven't! How can you have not owned a pet?"
"My mother was allergic to dogs and cats, fish die too quickly, and you simply cannot have animals running about in the factory, other than the geese that lay the golden chocolate eggs. Just think of all the trouble it would cause? Who wants to find cat hair or dog drool in their candy bar?"
"Eeeewwww!" she exclaimed, laughing. "Aw man, that's gross."
"Precisely," he chuckled, amused at how red her face got when she laughed.
"Okay," she said, taking a second to catch her breath. "I've never gone for a day without chocolate." He looked intrigued.
"Really?"
"I'm a choclaholic," she said, smiling. "Especially on bad days. Wonka bars... they just seem to help, you know? It's just got a calming effect that sort of makes you forget about the bad stuff for a while." He smiled and nodded.
"That was the original intention, dear girl," he replied.
"You can call me Reya," she said, smiling. "It just gets sort of weird, being called 'dear girl', or 'young lady' all the time."
"I apologize then, dear- I mean, Reya." She snickered a little. "Is Reya short for something?" he asked.
"Rachel," she answered. "But a friend at school started calling me Reya, and I liked it so I kept it. What about you? Is Willy short for something?"
"William," he replied. "But who doesn't like a good nickname?"
"My point exactly." She thought for a moment as she took another bite from her sub. "Whose-" A piece of lettuce fell out of her mouth and she slapped her hand over her mouth, holding in laughter and turning a blinding shade of red. Willy laughed as she rocked back and forth, determined not to have the rest of the bite fly out of her mouth. He pretended to scoot a safe distance from her, and once she had swallowed, she looked at him, still laughing. "I'm sorry!" she laughed. "Oh goodness, that's embarrassing!"
"We all have our moments," he chuckled.
"You ran into a door yesterday, so we're even now."
"That we are," he admitted. Her cell phone started ringing, this time to the tune of Mission Impossible, and she jumped because it vibrated too.
"Sorry," she said. "It might be my mom."
"Not a problem," he said, and she wandered off a little ways, turning her back to him.
"Hello?... Hi, Mom. Yes I got your note, but guess what, Dad had to go back to work so he has the spare key... No, that back door was locked... Oh no, you don't have to come! I'm okay. I'm at a friend's house right now... Will's... You know will! We've been friends since kindergarten. He came to my birthday party a few times. He's the one who broke your China set... Yes, that Will... It's no problem. Six? Okay, mom. I'll try and be home by then... Oh you'll call? Okay, that works too then... Alrighty then... Love you too... Buh-bye." She hung up, and turned, but Willy was gone.
"Mr. Wonka?" she called, looking around. No answer. "Wonka?"
Something soft hit her in the back of the head, and she turned to see some sort of candy with powdered sugar fall on the ground. She gasped and felt the back of her hair, trying to dust it out. There was a small bit of laughter behind her and she looked up to see Willy Wonka, chuckling and wiping powdered sugar off his hands. "William Middlename Wonka!" she shouted, running after him. He ran, and for a minute he reminded her of an annoying little brother or sister. She was laughing though, knowing this man was a kid at heart, and chased after him. "Get back here!" she half laughed, half shouted.
"You'll have to catch me first!" he shouted back. She chased him, but had the disadvantage of being very out of shape. Eventually she stopped, trying to catch her breath. She looked up and saw she was standing under a tree with those powdered sugar candies growing off it, and she smiled, pulling three down. He turned when he noticed she wasn't chasing him anymore, and saw she was panting.
"Okay," she panted. "You win." He smiled, believing he had won and started to walk to her when she pulled the three candies out from behind her back.
"Oh no you don't!" he shouted, but she nailed him twice in the back, and missed the third time.
"Ha ha!" she declaired. "I shank you with my sharpened candy!" She was standing over him, and he grabbed her ankle, making her fall over. Then he grabbed the candy she had missed him with, and rubbed it on her face. He laughed and she forced her way up, rubbing powdered sugar off her face. "That wasn't fair!" she protested, laughing a little.
"Oh really?" he asked. His eyes strayed down to her hand and he suddenly looked at her in concern. "Oh, oh no, you're bleeding." She looked down and saw the small trickle of blood running down her hand. It was coming from her arm.
"Must've scratched it on something," she muttered.
"Come with me, we'll get that taken care of it right away. Oh dear! I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's really okay," she said with a smile. "Trust me, I've had worse injuries. Try falling out of a window sometime." He smiled a little and took her good hand, leading her away into his office.
Reya was becoming used to seeing strange things in the factory by now, but when she stepped into the office where everything was cut in half, she had to giggle a little. Was there no end to this man's weirdness? He walked over to his half desk and opened a drawer, fumbling around inside. "I always keep some nearby incase of paper cut. No sense in bleeding to death."
"From a paper cut?" she asked, making a face.
"It could happen," he said, genuinely serious about it, and soon pulled out a box of bandaids. "Here we are." He approached her and pointed to her arm. "Let's see how bad it is."
"Oh, uh..." she stuttered, trying to find a way to get out of this. "You know what, I can do it. It's no problem."
"Don't be silly, ma'am. It's my responsability. Let's see..." Before she could stop him he grabbed on to her wrist and gently pulled the sleeve up a few inches. "Oh my," he muttered. She didn't even need to look. He had seen it... them. The red worms that burned, the ugly lines she was covered in. He could see a portion of them right now. Any minute now he'd pull away from her, call her parents and have her committed! "What happened here?"
-
(A/N: Dun dun dun! It was going to happen sometime. RR!)
