Chapter Fifteen - Wonka

                                    

                                          
As we made our way down the hall, I glanced behind to look at her face and grimaced at the sight. Her beautiful lips were marred with a scowl so fierce; it could kill a man. 'She probably wouldn't care if you died.' That all too familiar voice whispered in the back of my head. 'In fact, I bet she would enjoy watching the light fade out from your miserable eyes.' No! She would not! She may be upset, and she may detest me, but I know for a fact she wouldn't want me to die. She's too pure to ever want something like that. My eyes search frantically for a distraction before the voice could have a chance to speak once more and send me into a downward spiral.
I stopped abruptly in front of my failed creation and turn to the group with a somewhat forced grin. "Wait a minute. Must show you this. Lickable wallpaper for nursery walls. Lick an orange, it tastes like an orange. Lick a pineapple, it tastes like a pineapple. Go ahead, try it!" I'm not surprised in the slightest when everyone with the exception of myself and y/n all step up to sample the wall. 
"Mmm, I got a plum!"
"Y/n, this banana's fantastic. It tastes so real," Charlie exclaims with delight. His attitude momentarily brings me out of the darkness, but I'm immediately pulled back in when I look at her face once more.
"I'm glad you like it, gumdrop," She muttered with a disturbed expression on her lovely face. My heart plummets in my chest. 'In all the years we have been apart, I never lost hope that I would see her again somehow someday. However, out of all of the reunions I had ever pictured, this was not how I imagined it would go, but you know what they say. Life is full of disappointments and after today, I'm sure that is all I will ever be in her eyes.'   
I'm brought out of my thoughts by Charlie murmuring a firm "Yes," to his sister before walking away, causing her to stare after him in surprise. She seemed to be thinking about something quite intently and whatever it was, she clearly did not like it because the scowl returned with a vengeance.
"Miss. Bucket?" I murmured into her ear, causing her to jump in surprise. It would have been cute if it weren't for the fact that her pretty face was twisted with derision.
"What?" She asks, unamused.
"Why don't you try it?" I gently encourage her.
"Why would I? Tell me Mr. Wonka, if I lick a grape, will I turn into one as well?" She huffed at me.
I flinched. "Alright, I probably deserved that, but still...' It was silent between us for a moment as I searched for the right words to say. 'Come on man, THINK! There are approximately 171,146 words in the English language. Just say something.' "The first and final thing you have to do in this world is to last it and not be smashed by it," I say somewhat bitterly.
Flashback (29 Years Ago)
SLAP!
I hiss as I pull my hand to my chest and glare up at Professor Burbage. "Mr. Brennan! Stop your incessant daydream and pay attention to today's lesson or you can go to the headmaster's office!" 
The glare immediately melts off my face as I smirk up at the wrinkly old witch. Leaning back, I cross my arms and look up at the dull woman. "That would be just excellent Minnie. A break from your incessant chatter is definitely what I need."  
Her pale, wrinkly face turned red with rage, and I braced myself for the impact I knew was coming. "How dare-" she raised her hand to slap me but was thankfully stopped by a smooth voice. 
"Professor Burbage? What is the meaning of this?" All eyes turned to my most favorite instructor. Professor William Locke was the most riveting English instructor at St. Paul's Academy and the fantasy of many girls in the school. His dark, wavy short hair which had a tinge of grey at the sides, fell charmingly into his piercing blue eyes. He was tall and very lean, but it was his smile and voice that drew me in. When he smiled at you, he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world and whenever he praised you, it would render all other compliments from others meaningless because when he did it, that pride you felt in that moment, will never leave you. He's more of a father figure to me than my own. He taught me to appreciate literature and the endless possibilities that lay outside of these dull, grey walls. He's everything I want to be.