Tarantella

Chapter 3

I didn't tell my grandparents about the ticket. It rested in my coat pocket while I went on with my day like usual.

I was still thinking it was just some sort of joke – that is, until the radio made another announcement later that night.

"An update on our latest ticket finder Mr. Brigadoon from Brazil – apparently, the ticket was counterfeit and thus he will not be joining the others at the Wonka factory in Cobbswatch tomorrow. So the hunt continues – who will be the last lucky winner? "

My eyes widened as I heard this, and I went back to look at the ticket I had again. It sure looked real to my eyes. But still, there was this nagging doubt in my mind about going. It was just a factory visit after all, and my grandparents would be napping most of the day anyway. Technically there was no harm in me attending.

All that chocolate to eat...

My stomach growled and I squinted my eyes shut. It hurt to go hungry after a while. But if you knew how, you could dull it just enough. Just for a little while.

But I didn't want to eat – that was the problem, I guess. And before you ask, no – I do not have an eating disorder.

It was just that sometimes you have to do something unspeakable to survive.

The very next day I slipped out an hour before the ceremony, ticket in hand. I had tried to dress nice – I put on the dress in my closet with the least number of holes in it and brushed my long brown hair neatly and tied it back with a black ribbon. The dress was an awkward fit on me – I had lost a lot of weight, and it showed – not in a good way either. I put some rouge on my cheeks to hide how unhealthy I looked, which helped some.

I looked at myself in the mirror and quickly looked away again.

I doubted again whether I should go. Would people gawk at me? Stare? It had been so long since I had spent time with people, except for the man on the bench. It was just a factory visit – what about that was so special anyway?

But I was lying to myself – I'd always been curious about the Wonka factory. Everyone was, after all. It was just so big and mysterious, nobody knew what went on inside. No workers that could be seen either – how the hell was the factory still making candy, if there was no staff? And why had Willy Wonka himself refused to acknowledge the outside world for so long?

In the end, I was simply too curious to refuse.

There was a big crowd gathered outside the tall iron gate in front of the factory – much bigger than I had expected. Several food and beverage stalls had been set up – there was even a small carousel. The press was there too, and I began to understand just what a big deal all of this was. I had been watching from afar for a little while, getting more and more nervous about joining that big crowd.

Could I do this? Did I deserve it?

I blinked, forcing the doubt away. I looked up at the huge, looming factory – it stood on the outskirts of our small town like a huge mansion. It did not look like any other normal factory should – it reminded me of a large, sleeping spider. Sprawling, waiting for something to eat to come along.

But such thoughts were all nonsense of course. It was just a building, albeit a very unusual one at that.

When I got closer I recognized some of the other golden ticket winners – they were all standing in a small group right by the gates, and a reporter was talking to them rapidly while several cameras and flashing lights went off.

I started towards them but was quickly stopped by a large man, his arm barring me from walking any further. I started to tremble, afraid.

He looked down at me with a no-nonsense, stern expression. He was dressed like a bodyguard.