ρυяε sωεεт ιмαgιηαтιση

Shattered

I froze, my gaze locked onto Willy. He glanced at me, and did a double-take, confused with my hurt expression. He continued, looking at Charlie, "You can't run a chocolate factory with a family hanging over you like an old, dead goose."

He finished, glancing at the grandparents, "No offense."

Grandpa George then replied, "None taken, jerk."

Willy flashed him an annoyed look, then continued pridefully, "A chocolatier has to run free and solo. He has to follow his dreams. Gosh darn the consequences. Look at me. I had no family, and I'm a giant success."

Tears brimmed my eyes, and I gritted my teeth. "Willy, you don't mean that..."

Willy glanced at me, and realized what he had said. Before he can say a word, Charlie announced, fighting his own oncoming tears, "So if I go with you to the factory, I won't ever see my family again?"

Willy nodded and murmured cheerfully, "Yeah. Consider that a bonus."

I turned away, my heart shattering within my chest. Charlie stated, "Then I'm not going. I wouldn't give up my family for anything. Not for all the chocolate in the world."

Willy's smile fell, confusion melding into his voice. "Oh, I see. That's weird."

He took a step forward, and prompted, "There's other candy too besides chocolate."

Charlie shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wonka. I'm staying here."

Willy frowned, his brow furrowing. "Wow. Well, that's just... unexpected... and weird. But I suppose, in that case, I'll just... Goodbye, then."

He took a step toward his elevator, turning around to offer him one more time. "Sure you won't change your mind?"

Charlie stated, nearing tears, "I'm sure."

"Willy." I straightened, my gaze dark.

He looked at me, and saw my serious, hurt expression. Despite my bitterness, he had a bit of hope in his eyes. "Yes?"

"Can I speak with you...? In private?" I say, fighting my sob and my increasing anger. He paused, and nodded. I turned and walked out the door, hearing his steps follow me out of the house and onto the snow.

I took a few steps away, walking towards the fence of our small yard, my feet crunching in the snow. I stopped, and exhaled, my rigid shoulders collapsing. I faced him, staring in his eyes, letting my emotions show.

He looked at me, sincerity and hope and sorrow swimming in his violet gaze. "I'm so—"

"Don't." I held up a hand and fought the urge to slap him. I sighed, and said in a hushed voice, "How could you...? How could you even say that... in front of them, in front of Charlie? In front of me?"

"I didn't mean—" he started. I cut him off, grabbing his hand.

I lifted it and pointed at our hands, demanding, "Did this even mean anything to you?!"

I dropped his hand. "I don't think you realize how much that hurt me back there, because you don't even know about me."

I turned away. I heard his latex gloves squeak nervously.

"Mary, I didn't know. I... it does mean something, to... to me. I don't know what, though," he said nervously, and I could hear his anxious smile in his voice. He continued on.

"This," he said, taking my hand again, "makes me feel something new. Something wonderful. I don't understand this feeling though. Or why I get it."

"But you also don't understand the pain. You don't know what those people back there mean to me, and that you hurt the ones I love most." I look at him.

He looked down at my hand in his, and said, "I'm sorry."

"You don't mean that. You don't know what you are saying sorry for." I was so torn as I pulled my hand away from his. The next words that came out of my mouth destroyed me. "Just. Go."

He stepped closer, opening his mouth to say something. I snapped, "Save it."

He then murmured, "Mary..."

My tears and hurt and rage spilled from my mouth. I shouted, "Leave!"

His eyes said it all. He was sorry, and he wanted to apologize, but he didn't know how. He wanted to hug me, but he feared I would push him away. Which, I would.

He backed away his gaze lingering on mine. I stopped crying, keeping my tears in their rightful place as he faced me. He took off his hat, turning away, and sulked back to my house.

I cried, caving in. My heart felt like glass, collapsing into itself, the shards piercing my mind with its sharp, painful daggers. My heart is broken.

"My real parents are dead," I told him, taking a shaky breath. He halted, looking back at me. In the setting sun, I could see the guilt in his eyes. That's all I needed him to feel. Guilt.

He hesitated, standing there, unsure of what to say or do.

I straightened, wiping my tears. I walked right up to him, and put my face inches from his.

"Now you know. Now you know why the family I live with is all I have. Goodbye, Mr. Wonka." I spat his name, receiving a flinch from the man.

I left him there in the cold snow, and walked inside, not saying a word as I climbed up the ladder to Charlie's and my room. I sobbed silently into my pillow, hearing Mr. Wonka's shoes clack as he walked inside. I heard the ding of the elevator, and heard its glass doors sliding shut. The jets fired up, and the sound of the chocolatier's elevator faded away.

Charlie came up to the small bedroom of ours to cheer me up, and I laid in bed, facing the hole in the roof where I could see the factory in the distance. I saw the lights from the glass elevator slowly move away, and I could barely make out the chocolatier's form in that transparent contraption. He was sitting against the glass, hunched over, his hands covering his face.

I turned away, crying more tears. Charlie helped me sit up and he hugged me, apologizing to me quietly. I shake my head and tell him, "I will be okay. There wasn't anything there to begin with, anyways. It was all just my pure, sweet imagination."

Charlie shook his head and said, "No, there was something there, Mary. The way he looked at you was more sincere than the way he looked at his Oompa-Loompas. He loved seeing you smile, hearing you laugh—"

"Charlie. Please, just... not tonight, okay?" I asked him softly. "Let me get my heartbreak out of my system. Then we will argue about that. Okay?"

He nodded, and hugged me once more, going to his bed. "Goodnight, Mary."

"Goodnight, Charlie," I whisper, sitting there in the quiet darkness, the moonlight shining onto my bed.

I heard Grandma Georgina chirp, "Things are going to get much better."

I curled into a ball, trying to warm up, and I feel something in my pocket. I pull it out and see that it was the Everlasting Gobstopper that... he gave me. I curled my fingers around it, crying silently. I fell asleep with tears on my face, clutching the little candy ball to my chest.