And here's the next chapter of this story, I have reduced the rating because it didn't seem necessary. I hope you enjoy.

A silence always fell over the factory when Mr. Wonka left. He usually went out in what he thought was a disguise, or what he thought was inconspicuous. He left before Charlie was up, but Charlie knew as he woke that Wonka had gone out. It was the quietness of the Oompa Loompa's work, there was no song or busy clamour, even the air smelt less chocolaty.

Charlie ticked off another day in his calendar. After December the Twenty Seventh he had ripped the bottom part off. It left a jagged edge on that date; Charlie soon regarded that day as a strange boundary, and tried not to think about it. He had always loved the factory, but now that he had a new perspective on life he realized how lucky he actually was to live and work in the Factory. Ironically the last time he spent in the factory was also the best.

He thudded down to his mother, who was making a breakfast, she looked down at him and, more to stop herself crying, smiled. Charlie hugged her and looked across at his father, who was motionless.

"I thought I might, since Willy is out today, go outside the Factory for a little today. Just for an hour. I'll be back at ten, ok?"

His mother didn't want to say no to anything, so she just nodded once. Charlie nodded and backed out the door, uncomfortable in the sudden silence that fell upon the Bucket Family. Charlie left the Factory out of the small door next to the Chocolate Conveyor Belts, where the chocolate was given to the various buyers. He walked around the edge of the courtyard, covered now in snow, and opened the gates with a clang.

Charlie walked out and made his way down the lane, as many people began to leave for school or work. He saw some younger primary school kids and smiled at them. They moved in bunches, stopping in a group to stare at him. He wondered why and turned as they moved on. Rubbing his hands together in the cold morning air, Charlie turned past the College he had attended until his mother had cancelled his scholarship. He ran his hand down the railing fence as people moved this way and that. He almost ran into the three people standing in his way.

What are the chances, thought Charlie bitterly, of coming across the three people who hate me most in the world?

Two guys and a girl stood there, grinning in a way that made Charlie shiver. He looked at the girl, tall and thin, her name was Brianna. She looked at him like he was dirt under her foot; he looked down at the ground, unable to say anything. Brianna, Robert and John. All of them, and many others, hated Charlie for his luck.

"Hey Bucket, Where you going so fast? Back to yer friend, Willy Wanker?" said the tallest guy, Robert Finley. The others snickered. Charlie blushed and looked at the ground.

"Shut up."

"Oooh, hit a nerve have we?" Cooed Robert, stepping to the side to block Charlie.

"Leave me alone"

Robert moved forwards and shoved Charlie. Charlie was small for his age and fell to the ground, his coat got tangled and his beanie went flying. He struggled to get up but he felt a foot on his back. It was Brianna; her foot was on the back of Charlie's neck as he lay there, coughing and choking.

"Hey baldy, why so clumsy?"

He flushed redder with shame at his head, shaven and bald. He was on the verge of tears as they threw pieces of rubbish at him, laughing and shouting.

"Blaldy"

"Egghead"

These names eventually became worse ones, as Charlie lay here. He had no will to struggle.

"Faggot" at that he struggled to get up, anger now behind he fear.

"Yeha, try and get up. Go have a cry, go to Willy Wanker, why don't you?"

Charlie felt Brianna move her foot off him, he got up, weak and dizzy. He felt sick and his stomauch was hurting again. Clutching his hand to his stomauch, he walked away from the jeers and the shouts feeling warm sticky blood trickle slowly down the back of the neck. He grabbed the fence and moved slowly along his eyes on the ground. He felt his way to the familiar brick wall that ran along the boundary of the factory. He got to the gate and opened the side door. Had not the Oompa Loompas been under strict orders from Willy Wonka never, ever to leave the factory boundaries or show themselves they would have rushed to greet him, but it was not until the door closed and the window shutters pulled down and the small room was dark that they came forwards. One stood on another's shoulders and gently removed the large tatty jacket Charlie always wore outside. They sat him down, cleaned off the blood and patched him up.

Among their silent presence Charlie felt no shame in crying, as the tears ran silently down his cheeks he saw the Oompa Loompas move about. Eventually they brought him a cane, he couldn't see what it was but it felt comforting under his fingers. Leaning heavily on it he walked through the doors and into the warm factory. He was in the hallway at the entrance to the Factory. The door swung behind him as he walked. He looked around and was surprised to see no Oompa Loompas waiting behind him. He jumped slightly as he realized, behind the door was Willy Wonka, standing still. He was looking at the ground as he reached out and shut the door with a click. Charlie could not see his eyes; they were infuriatingly hid beneath the brim of his top hat. What he could see of his jaw didn't look like Wonka was happy. Charlie didn't move. In the light he realized he was leaning on Wonka's own cane, the black wood and glass knob at the top seemed to reassure him. He stood there in silence for a while until Wonka looked up, dragging his gaze from the floor in front of him to Charlie's face.

"How?"

One word, softly spoken and almost angry. All the usual joking happiness had left Wonka's face, he was deadly serious. Charlie had only seen him like this twice before, when he had fallen in the fudge mountain room and broken his wrist Wonka had risked his life to save him. The other was when Charlie told him he was going to die. Wonka took one step forwards and, as Charlie knew when Wonka was being serious he was deadly graceful. Gone was the usual swinging gait, gone was the slightly clumsy look. He straitened his back to look at Charlie, who was almost at head height.

"Some people I knew."

"Why?" again one word, his voice was not playful but deep and serious.

"My…head."

"Who?"

"Some people I know from when I went to college."

Wonka turned in a whirl of fabric, Charlie knew he was in an uncertain mood.

"Willy, I've still got your cane."

"Keep it. I don't need as much as you."

Charlie stood facing Wonka's still back, in the strange corridor that entered the Factory. He closed his eyes, the feelings whirling within him to make him feel nauseas. When he looked at Wonka he felt happy and safe, but he also felt embarrassed and clumsy. Charlie had no idea how to feel. He walked painfully in front of Wonka, and was astonished to see a tear leaking out of Wonka's blue eyes. He had never seen Willy Wonka cry.

"It's not fair, Charlie. It's just not fair."

"I know. It's not fair that I go and leave you to suffer, not fair that I get out of it easy."

"No, Charlie."

"Yes." Charlie walked up to Willy Wonka and looked down. "I don't want to leave you." He said. He cradled Wonka's face and wiped away the tear. Wonka closed his eyes and breathed slowly once more. Then suddenly, as quickly as Wonka's strange mood had come upon him it left him. He snapped up strait and made a huge grin.

"Wait 'till you see the chocolate room, my dear boy. Marvelous. Let's go!"

He said, rushing into the Elevator and holding the door open as Charlie followed, puzzled. As the Elevator entered the room from high above Charlie gasped. He pushed his hand against the glass, making small cloud where he breathed.

Find out next time what Wonka has deon to celebrate Christmas. Oh and Please, please Review, kind readers. I love reviews and criticism. Thanks for reading,

C. Clementine