Curiosity Killed The Cat
Erin had been arranged into her room, eaten, and even decided to read a book, before she came to unavoidable conclusion that she was bored. A sick thought to think about when one just arrives in a new place, and with that thought in mind, she jumped off her lavishly decorated bed, wrinkling the newly pressed lavender quilt, and causing the headboard to slightly bang into the opposing mauve wall behind her, she grabbed haphazardly for her shoes , slipped into them, and decided this was a day that had called her for curiosity. Not the kind that killed the cat, but a more mild one that involved perhaps antagonizing Mr. Willy Wonka.
She knew he had disliked her the moment he had said 'little girl.' And that was all it took for her to dislike him. What was he was a child fanatic? Or did he simply believe he was the only person in the entire word that was an adult? Whatever the case was inside his slightly altered top hat covered head, he was simply an annoyance to her, and she was even more simply going to avoid being in his presence. Cause she was sure if she heard the words 'little girl' referring to her one more time...she was going to snap like a twig when one steps on it in stiletto heels.
She walked down a red carpeted hallway, glancing at the heavily colored walls, and paused to take a through scan.
The walls were an assortment of colors -red, orange, purple, yellow, basically anyone you saw fit in your imagination, sure enough there it was- all aligned cursory into an miscellany of shapes. Circles, triangles, squares, or any made up shape that simple fit. It was, to Erin, like autumn. When the leaves simply fell due to untimely justice on the oncoming days of winter, and as the leaves fell, they carried a sort of, misunderstood grace as they spiraled elegantly to the ground; a whirl of color, a blur of shapes. She wondered what Mr. Wonka's motive was for these walls and this carpet, for now she continued her exploration elsewhere's. For someone she claimed to despise, he could not be denied that he had a interesting taste in what some would call, 'a load of things mushed together,' or even more simply, 'shity but effective.'
Reaching the end of the abnormally long hallway, she paused before the wall because it seemed to missing something, but she was sure, when she was on the other side of the hallway, there was one in attendance.
The door.
Where did the door go?
A door could not simply just disappear into thin air. Well maybe it could as she realized whose factory she was standing in.
Just then, she felt a slight tug in the knee region of her cargo pants, and she looked down and saw a tiny, majorly tanned, 6 inch figure.
What were those things he called them again? Loompa Opo. No Oompo Lop. No...What was it? Oh yes, Oompa Loompa.
"You're an Oompa Loompa aren't you.' she said as a statement than as a question, because she was pretty sure now that this what it was called.
He didn't respond to her, he merely pointed at her leg. She looked down at her leg, completely baffled as to what he was inquiring or pointing out to her.
Is my pants dirty? What is he needing, cause my pants are just what they are, pants.
Realizing that she wasn't getting what he was showing her, he got down on the floor-which wasn't that far for him to go- and crawled in-between the space of her legs, and when one sees this happening, one tends to have a feeling of , "oh dear god, why is said person doing said thing.'
"Woah! Where-What?"
And then suddenly...he disappeared.
She peered down under her legs, and noticed how he had made his grand escape so to say. Underneath, or behind her if she looked down, was a steel pressed door with ridges pressed into the door. There was no handle, so she assumed one must push the door in. Glancing behind her and making sure no one was around to catch her, in case what she was doing was considered a 'no, no'. Confirming that there was no one around or going to suddenly pop up -she hoped- she crouched down on her knees and pushed the small door with one hand and held her breath.
And what awaited her eyes was definitely something that she would never had expected, despite the fact that she knew of the place she was residing in.
The room seemed like a smaller scaled jungle. Along the ground was the greenest blades of grass she had ever seen in her entire life, and crawling inside she realized that room had suddenly been altered. She could stand.
There seemed to be a stone path meant for those visiting to follow, and doing so, she walked and stared in awe, her eyes glazed in fancy.
Trees of gummy bars, licorice strings, and candy apples, hung gaily on the seemingly real branches. Mushrooms filled with some type of fluffing that is constituted in cool whip. Any type of candy that has been invented was there before her eyes, and she couldn't help but grin foolishly.
She plucked a candy apple from the tree and bit into it. The bittersweet tang that accompanies the freshness of an apple and the sweet concoction that was coated pleasantly over its contours flooded her mouth and she began greedily delving into the apple, not really caring who was there to see her.
She turned slightly and what she saw made her mouth hang open in wonder and the half devoured apple to fall loudly from her hand into the grass below.
It was a giant chocolate waterfall.
A chocolate waterfall.
A chocolate waterfall?
How the hell did this wacko get a chocolate waterfall into his factory?
Stepping down the stepped path toward the falls, she noticed how creamy the river looked, and how the foam that was produced was like the milk bubbled one blows through a straw of an infamous chocolate milk. Giant chunks fell from the copycat drop into the foam, causing it to be disturbed, then grow slightly.
Edging closer she watched in fascination at the way the chocolate moved like a natural river, rapid even graced its surface as it passed down into a tunnel she noticed at the far right side of the room.
I wonder where that goes...
And as she looked for some sort of device that would be adorned for going into the tunnel, a boat maybe, she felt a hand tap her shoulder.
"What ya looking at?"
The first instinct when someone comes up behind you, unexpectedly, is genuinely to jump in surprise. And that was what Erin did, but instead of jumping in the air and landing on solid ground, she didn't feel that precious contact of earth as she flew down into the chocolate depths that she had been moments before admiring so intently.
"Oh no not again." said a slightly feminine high-pitched voice, as his lavender glove curled and protested into a fist, and his lavender eyes began searching wildly the umber concoction below him, now disturbed by a wonder-stricken young woman.
She hadn't surface and that disturbed him. The Ooompa Loompas didn't sing a song for her, so her fate hadn't been determined for downfall... at least not yet.
Sighing exaggeratedly to himself he stripped out of his long maroon trench coat, lavender sunglasses, black leather boots, and his black ,purple ribbon ,top hat, and taking one more glance into the murky depths, he dove in.
Erin couldn't see a thing and the fact that her glasses were also clouded didn't help. She was swimming fanatically trying to see through the sludge that she had just fallen into. It wasn't like the ocean, where despite some discoloration, u could tell where the surface was. No light seemed to ebb its way to where she was now drowning and she couldn't help but panic. It is said that in a troubling situation, you should never panic. But she determined early on, that if that spokesperson was in the very situation she was right now, they would be flipping the fuck out.
He searched wildly, waving his arms in fervent hope in finding some sign or touch of the young woman. What, couldn't she swim. Her legs were certainly long enough he noticed, almost like swimmer's legs.
Finally he grazed something, a slight brush through the thick soup. He retraced back slightly, waving his arms back frantically, and reaching.
He grasped what he assumed was her, and kicked fiercely toward the surface because the extra weight was dragging him dreadfully more toward the bottom.
Rushing and pushing, trying viciously to reach air, his lungs began burning and lusting for precious oxygen, he could only imagine how she was feeling, if this was indeed her.
Finally he broke the surface, gulping down the precious amounts of air that pressed against his chambers, like giving water to a man in the desert.
Pulling what he now determined as the little girl, he used all his strength to getting her onto the edible grass. After a few attempts he managed to get her onto the bank, and taking a few deep breaths he was able to pull himself up as well. His muscles ached unpleasantly from his exertion but he crawled over to where the motionless woman laid.
He dipped his head low to her mouth but heard no sound or breath upon his ear. He was surprised that he was able to remember what he had been taught in his school days about CRP, or CFR, or whatever it was called. It didn't really matter what it was called as long he was able to help her start breathing. Placing his hands over what he believed would be her heart, he pressed down ten times, pushing slightly against her with the palm of his right hand with his left over it.
Then reaching for her nose he went to bend over to breathe air into her, when suddenly her chest started violently shaking and then into his close face, she coughed up all the river that had invaded her lungs.
Sputtering backwards he began fervently wiping his face, as she turned to the side, curled into a ball, hostilely coughing and sputtering, her face becoming red from the exertion.
Still breathing heavy, he waited for the spasms to desist, pushing his dripping hair away from his eyes and wiping his face clear of chocolate, or at least attempting.
Trying to sit up, Erin was confused by the presence in front of her. She expected it to be Mr. Wonka, ready to laugh at her. But it didn't even look remotely like him, or at least no in the way she had previously seen.
His dark hair was pushed back, with a few strands falling down his tanned face with splotched white peeking through. He wore a black tee shirt with matching black pants that clung to him now due to his impromptu swim, and it shaped his muscled frame delightfully. Staring now, the only way she could tell that it was really him, was the uniquely colored lavender eyes staring bewildered at her in silent confidence.
"Are you ok?' and then it was him again, that slightly high-pitched voice revealed that he was surely who she was believing he was.
"Yes."
"Well that's just dandy, but now look at my river." He jumped up spastically and stared angrily into his river.
She glanced with him, and discovered she didn't see anything that he was seeing because she just noticed small ripples from what she assumed from frantic swimming.
"Um..What's wrong with it?'
"What's wrong with it? WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT! I'LL TELL YOU 'WHAT'S
WRONG WITH IT! NOW IT'S CONTAMINATED, AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" He yelled furiously, his eyes blazing with passion.
Not trusting her voice she shook her head in answer.
"IT'S RUINED! R-U-I-N-E-D! NO ONE IS GOING TO WANT EAT THIS! THIS RIVER SEND CHOCOLATE TO THE ENTIRE FACTORY! NOW I HAVE TO SHUT OFF ALL THE MACHINES AND HAVE THE OOMPA LOOMPA CLEAN IT! WELL,' he bellowed in his pitch which would have been hilarious if he hadn't been serious, picking up his clothes before pointing a long finger in her direction, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. FROM NOW ON, JUST STAY AWAY FROM ANYTHING THAT LOOKS INTERESTING. NO SMELLING, NO TASTING, NO TOUCHING."
And then he stormed off in his fury and she sat there in depressed silence, til he turned back at her while staring from the iron door.
"AND THAT MEAN ANYTHING!'
She cringed when she heard the sound of the door, and she began to think humorlessly to herself that thankfully she wasn't a dead cat.
Just a soaked one.