"I'm not supposed to be scared of anything/ But I don't know where I am/ I wish that I could move/ But I'm exhausted and nobody understands how I feel/ I'm trying hard to breathe now/ But there's no air in my lungs/ There's no one here to talk to/ And the pain inside is making me numb/ I try to hold this under control/ You can't help me cuz no one knows..."
-'Changes', 3 Doors Down

Mandy opened her eyes and looked around. Her body ached, and her eyes were burning. Everything looked very foggy, and she realized it was from the never ending tears that were falling in an attempt to wash whatever it was out of her eyes. When she stood, her ankle gave way, and she barely was able to stop herself from falling to the ground. A pain radiated through her ankle and she realized it was twisted, but fortunately not broken or she wouldn't have been able to stand at all.
What had happened? She couldn't remember much. She remembered falling... but nothing else. Something had happened. People just didn't suddenly lose conciousness and then wake up with sore eyes and a twisted ankle. Her eyes barely made out the dim form of a tree and that was when a lot of it came back. Smoke... ashes... falling.
"Mom! Dad!" she screamed, and moved as fast as she could towards the town, limping and stumbling several times, but determined not to fall. As she moved, the smoke got thicker and thicker until she was coughing and feeling dizzy. But she pressed on. She simply had to find them.
-
He wasn't moving. The boy had stopped responding to his voice five minutes ago, and now he laid still, eyes staring at the smokey sky, completely glazed over. But Wonka refused to move. Even if the boy was not alive, leaving would be abandoning him. So he sat there, waiting for someone to show up. Anyone. He would have called for help but his voice was so hoarse, and no one would dare venture into this smoke trap and suffocate themselves half to death trying to find him.
So he simply sat there, motionless, expressionless, empty tears rolling down his dirty cheeks, partially from smoke, partially from pain. He could barely comprehend what was happening, and stared down helplessly at the dead body in front of him.
"Mom!" screamed a voice, but he didn't look. It felt like he had barely even heard her, like her voice had landed like a small whisper in a roaring wind. "Dad! Megan!" It was a girl, or possibly a young woman, he couldn't tell. The sounds of her screaming were desperate, fearful, helpless. "Megan!" she screamed again, desperate to get a response from someone. He could hear footsteps of someone else approaching and heard the girl run up to the mystery person.
"Excuse me, sir!" she called, the sounds of a remaining sob in her throat. "Please, have you seen my family? I have a twin sister who looks exactly like I do..."
There was a long pause and then finally an answer. "I saw them," answered the stranger, a man from the sounds of it. "I saw them go in to that CD store. I didn't see them some out before it collapsed."
"Thankyou," she sobbed and ran past him (Wonka), and to the remnants of a building across the street from his.
"Excuse me," he heard another woman's voice, but not to him. "Are you Amanda Jacobs?" A pause.
"Y-yes. Why? Who are you? What do you want? Where's my family?" Tension had built with each question until she screamed the last part.
"My name is Hillary Brenton. I'm with social services. I need you to come with me," she said, none too gently. At this Willy finally turned his head in the young woman's dirrection, and saw that is she was an adult, she was a fresh one, not much older than eighteen. Either that or she aged slowly.
"What's going on? Where's my parents and my sister!"
"Their remains have already been found... I'm sorry." Her voice had no hint of sympathy, empathy or any pathy in it, and it made him feel a little frustration. "I'm trying to gather up all the children who, like you, have lost their families in this tragedy-"
"No," she said with a trembling voice. "You won't take me anywhere!"
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me."
"NO!" she screamed, and the woman grabbed her by the arm before she could run. The girl fought back, barely, and screamed, trying to pull herself away. With a final desperate attempt, she opened her mouth and bit into the woman's arm. The woman gave a cry of pain, and as soon as she let go of the girl, the girl let go of her.
"Officer!" shouted the woman, tunring and walking away. The girl fell to her knees, sobbing and shaking. Her black hair was in ratty tangles, there were scrapes all over her face and burns. Her shirt was torn, making it look like she'd just come out of a fight with a thorn bush, and her dark brown skirt that went to her ankles had tears in it and dirt.
"Megan!" screamed the girl in distress, not calling her but rather shouting it as if in hopeless surrender. He soon heard the sounds of people coming to her, and the girl promptly go to her feet and ran, half limping, away. He would've kept on staring at her, had Charlie not suddenly shifted in his arms.
-
The cops finally found Wonka, who hadn't moved from his spot, and helped him find the strength to stand and watch as Charlie was loaded on to an ambulence and taken away. He was not questioned because it was obvious Wonka was not guilty of attempted murder, so instead he was left there in that dark environment. The sun was setting, it was getting dark and all around him were ashes, ruins, and badly burnt buildings an people. The entire setting had been a nightmare, and he had already tried pinching himself to the point of bruising to try to wake up.
The girl from before had long since vanished, and he'd barely given her anymore thought. All he could think about was how he was going to explain to the four grandparents at home that Charlie's parents were...
No! He refused himself to think it, not for a moment! Charlie was only a child after all. His parents shouldn't have to die! It was just unnatural and wrong, and... for lack of a better word, weird. This whole thing was wrong, he thought as he looked at what was left of the buildings. It was all so very wrong! It shouldn't have happened, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It had come and gone like a large sneeze. With the inhale the people were walking around and talking happily around a perfect looking town, and with the explosion of an exhale, everything was in ruins and people and children were dead or dying. He burried his face in his hands. This was all wrong! It couldn't have happened, not here. Not now.
Something was shifting around nearby, and he turned around, smoke still rising from the ruins of buildings. People were beginning to help search through the reckage, looking for missing family or loved ones. Every now and again he would hear the screams of a mother discovering her child, or some finding a dead body. Through the fading smoke, he could see a figure digging through hot ashes, weeping miserably as she scooped up ashes and ruin, tossing it to the side. She continued it over and over again, not really seeming to have a goal in this. It was more like she was just doing it because she was so lost and confused and didn't know what to do.
It took a minute, but as he watched her he realized she was the girl from before, the one the social worker was after. He approached her slowly, almost as if she were a deer, ready to run at any moment. She reached out to scoop up more ashed, and he saw the burns all over her arms and hands. This was more than likely not the first place she had been digging through. After a minute, she looked up slowly and craned her neck towards him. "I can't find them," she said, tears falling down her face. "They're gone."
"What happened to your arms," he asked at length, unable to take his eyes off them.
"I don't know," she answered. Her eyes looked up at him, but barely meeting eyecontact with him, almost as if she were struggling to see clearly. Her eyes did look a little cloudy, not that he noticed it, and he saw burns on her face, small but visible. Not as bad as her hands and arms. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know where I am. I don't understand what's happening... they were only going to be gone for a few minutes..." Her body was shaking as her sobbing returned and she looked so frail, ready to fall apart at any moment. He felt a stab of pity as he began to understand, she looked how he felt. Confused and ready to fall apart.
He couldn't stand the sight any longer, and walked away, wandering around pointlessly, looking around at remains of the town and the people. It still felt like a horrifying nightmare, and he wished that at some point he would wake and find it had been just a dream. He wandered around for almost an hour before he finally knew it was time for him to go back to the factory and face the four grandparents. This was not going to be easy, except for maybe grandma Georgina who couldn't remember what she had for breakfast this morning. Tomorrow he would go to the hospital to see Charlie and break the news to him as well. With these grim plans in mind, he sulked away to the glass elevator, but stopped when a strange sight greated him. Someone lay inside of it, curled up and asleep on the floor. Who on earth would do that?
He pressed the door button with a ding and stared down at her confused. What should he do now? He couldn't just go to the factory and pretend he hadn't seen her... or could he? No. That simply wouldn't do. She was trespassing on his private elevator, and must be ushered off. He would have gently shaken her, but his hands were so sore and burnt, so he poked her with his cane instead. At first she didn't respond, but then shifted with a stiffled moan and looked up, eyes red and slightly foggy. "My dear girl," he said softly. "I don't know who you are, and I'm afraid at the moment I couldn't care less, though that does seem rather rude at a time like this when I should be more sympathetic..." The girl was looking at him funny, and he knew he was rambling. "Just please, kindly get out of my elevator. I would really hate to throw you off as my hands are quite useless." She stood up very slowly and he realized it was the same girl who had been digging around in the ashes earlier. Why was he always bumping into her?
"Please," she said weakly staring at him. "I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Go home with your family, then. I'm sure they're very worried for you."
"They're dead," she muttered fresh tears falling (-she must be so dehydrated by now!- he thought to himself) and he stood there, biting his lip.
"Oh," he muttered, but knew she knew he had already learned that. She had told him once before after all. "As much as I'd like to help, I'm afraid I can't. But there are shelters and group homes around aren't there? Surely you could find lodging there. Now, if you please, I must be going so... out." The girl scowled and rolled her eyes at him, and staggered out, limping on a very swollen ankle. He pressed the button and felt the elevator shake as it started to lift off from the ground. Though he knew he'd regret it if he did, he let his eyes wander back down to the girl one last time.
-
Mandy watched as the man in the funny hat started to rise up into the smokey sky in his glass elevator, and felt as if her last hope was gone. She knew very well who he was, and knew that if even the great Willy Wonka didn't give a rip, no one would. She fell to the ground in dispair, burrying her face in her hands and sobbing. How could she go home? It would be so big and empty, and quiet. Too quiet. Without Megan around, who could she talk to?
Megan! Her parents had weighed so heavily on her mind that she hadn't really thought of life without Megan until now. What would she do without her? Megan had always been there, she'd always been a part of her life! She had been the only one she'd tell her secrets to, confide in, and trust as much as she did. Losing her was like losing half of her body. She was useless without the other half and knew she'd accomplish more by laying there and waiting for death to greet her too.
There came the dull roar of... she paused and looked up. Mini jet engines? The glass box that had been flying away earlier, was now landing just a few feet in front of her. The man inside staring at her, looking as if he'd been forced to come. She got to her feet and staggered to the elevator, feeling a little hope at last.
-
He had let her on. There was no logical explanation for it nor any good reason for it that he could think of. But that look on her face of utter hopelessness and suffering of being alone must've done it. When he had first told her to go the look on her face was similar to the one he wore when he was a boy and came home from running away only to find his home was gone. Was that it, the feeling he felt he could relate to? Maybe, but now that she was with him what would he do with her? It was not as though he didn't have enough of a sorrowful pit to dig himself out of. The death of Charlie's parents had hit him at full swing, and the pain was heavier than anything he had ever felt before. He knew immediatly as the factory neared that there was a small chance of him sleeping tonight. And how could he work or have ideas and inspirations with such a heavy burden on him? Telling the grandparents the sad news was one thing, but having to tell Charlie? He could barely even begin to imagine it. That was the danger with meeting people, he had told himself a long time ago. Once you get attached to them it was almost impossible to recover from the pain of losing them.
As he thought more about this, he wondered what the girl was going through. He had lost two very good friends that were almost family to him, but she had lost the only family she had forever. She had no one to go home to, assumming she still had a home. This whole thing had to be killing her. In fact she had barely even looked at him since the elevator had taken off again. A thankyou would have been polite, but since things were so startling and nerve wracking, he was more than willing to let it slide. Manners were the last thing on his mind right now. But he still couldn't think of what he would do with her. Give her lodging of course, no questions asked, but should he offer her a job? That was risky bussiness considering what had happened the last time he had hired humans to work for him.
"Mr. Wonka," she piped up at last, with the smallest, most frail voice he had ever heard. "I think we're here," she said. He glanced around and realized they had landed already, and wondered how long he had been just standing there, staring into space.
"So we are," he said, faking some spunk. He knew she had seen right through that, and sighed, not knowing what to say to her. "Are you hungry? Tired? Thirsty?"
"I just want to sleep," she muttered. He nodded.
"We really should probably get your eyes looked at. They look so painful..."
"I'm fine," she muttered. "I just want to sleep."
"Alright," he said, offering a sad smile -not needing to fake the sad part-. He led her down the hall and into a series of strange and bizzare rooms. After a few minutes of wandering he stopped in the middle of a hall, looking down a row of doors. "Pick a door, any door," he said softly, forcing yet another empty smile. "The color of the door represents the color of the room. But I call dibs on the purple one," he added quickly.
She didn't seem to even think about the color or care, she just limped forward and grabbed on to the handle of the blue one. Opening the door slowly, she stepped in and looked around. Wonka had been true to his word. Every thing in that room was blue. The bed was blue, the wood work was blue, the cushy seat near a book case was blue (as well as the book case and all its contents), the carpet and walls were blue, and there was the strong smell of blue berries, which was easily predictable. As she looked around, her eyes landed on a mirror -the glass part being the only thing in the room that wasn't blue besides the glass on the windows- and she almost screamed. She could see her sister in that reflection, haunting her like a ghost. It took a minute before she realized it was herself. It had never occured to her, but since she looked exactly like her sister, it was almost as if she'd never leave. Everytime she'd look in the mirror, she'd see her. The pain would never go away, and not even the memory, which she wanted more than anything. She couldn't stop the tears no matter what now, and burried her face in her hands, sobbing again and falling to the floor.
Wonka knew there was nothing more that he could do now for her, and it would be better to let her have the space to grieve. So he simply told her that if she needed anything to push the large blue button next to the light switch and an oompa-loompa would be at her service immediatly. He could really tell now that she was distraught for she didn't once look up to ask what on earth an oompa-loompa was. So as he left, he sighed and began to think out in his head what he would say to the grandparents.
----