// A/N: The relationship between Mr. Wonka and the reader is strictly platonic. I will not expect to see comments suggesting romance; it's disappointing. //

I couldn't really understand this world. On the one hand, people were happy, whether they were wealthy or not. On the other hand, were left waiting for more. Something that might totally change their lives in an instant.

I was an orphan at Roseville Homes for Kids. Someone found me when I was left there as a baby years ago. I didn't know who my real parents were, so the people at the orphanage have become my new family.

Miss Mitchell, the caretaker, has a kind heart. After the previous director died of an unknown illness, she took over as orphanage director. It gave her a lot of work, but she still looked after us alongside the other adults.

Life in the orphanage was not without its ups and downs. When the younger ones are in trouble, I usually assist them. When I get into mischief, the older kids frown, even though they consider it a childish act.

I've made new friends and memories! They always referred to me as (Y/N) or any nickname they could create on the spot. Sometimes I would daydream in the middle of the day. "What would it be like to live in a big mansion?" I wondered.

Then a young girl, no more than six years old, approached me and said, "(Y/N)! Miss Mitchell wants to talk with you!"

"Sure, I'll be right there, and please don't run too fast!" I joked. Before she skipped to the playroom, the girl made a cheeky face.

I went directly to Miss Mitchell's office. I had to climb a lot of stairs (while passing by small children running around), but I made it.

When I opened the door, her cheerful voice greeted me. "How are you today, my sweet (Y/N)?" she inquired.

"As usual, ma'am! You said you had something to say for me?" I sat down on the cozy sofa.

"Correct! But don't worry, it's not urgent," she said with a smile. "Do you want to hear the good news first?"

"Yes, ma'am!" I exclaimed, with a small salute.

"You'll be getting your birthday gift soon!" she said, holding my hands. "Just like we do every year."

I smiled as big as I could. My birthday was always a big occasion in the orphanage when I was a child. Everyone gathered to eat, play games, and have a good time.

"Thank you as always, ma'am! It's a pleasure getting a Wonka bar again!" I sighed contentedly.

"Unfortunately, the adoption schedule for today has been moved to next week; we'll see if there are families willing to adopt you," she added.

"That's fine; it's no surprise that everything looks lively today." I chuckled. Miss Mitchell silently comforted me by placing her hand on my shoulder.

After a few talks, I left the office to check on the other kids. Surprisingly, a handful of them were waiting for me.

"(Y/N), please tell us a story!" one of the children pleaded.

"How about I tell you after dinner?" I suggested. "But you better promise to go to sleep by bedtime." They all nodded their heads and went back to their usual activities.

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Then, by 7:30 p.m., we usually gather. I was one of the older assistants dishing out the servings at dinner time.

We said our prayers and ate as much as we could after we had settled down. I was always grateful to the cooks for their chicken soup. On a frigid night like tonight, it feels warm.

The older kids then wash the dishes while the rest of us get ready for bed. And, as usual, the smaller children gather in my room to hear a story.

"What story are you telling tonight, (N/N)?" asked Sydney, a nine-year-old girl.

"How about I tell you how Willy Wonka started the factory? I'm sure it'd be interesting," I said, smiling.

Because the children were full of questions, I told them about the story. I knew an elderly man who used to work at Mr. Wonka's factory. He was eager to relate his experiences, from the beginning to the end. He was such a wonderful man.

"It all started in a single store on Cherry Street. But the whole world wanted his candy, so one of his workers asked Mr. Wonka for a solution." I grabbed my felt puppets of the respective characters.

"Mr. Wonka?"

"Yeah?"

"We need more Wonka bars and we're out of chocolate birds."

I altered my voice a little bit to sound like an old man. The kids kept listening, itching to find out more.

"Birds? Well, then, we'll need to make some more." I made my puppet grab a felt brown bird and gave it to the worker.

"He then told him to put it in his mouth and open it wide. Out came, a flying chocolate bird!" I went on. Then I signaled for the puppet to open its mouth and show the children the same bird with its wings open.

They were all impressed, and some of them secretly wished they could have some.

"Did you know he invented a new way of making chocolate ice cream so that it stays cold for hours without a freezer? You can even leave it lying in the sun on a hot day and it won't go runny," I said, as I placed my puppets down.

"But that's impossible!" another kid spoke up.

"But Willy Wonka did it. Before long, he decided to build a proper chocolate factory. The largest chocolate factory in history!" I showed them a picture of the factory.

"How big do you think it is?" Rosie asked.

"Fifty times as big as any other," I told her.

"Then, someone named Prince Pondicherry wrote a letter to Mr. Wonka and asked him to come all the way out to India. He wanted him to build a colossal palace entirely out of chocolate." This time, I had a Wonka puppet and a Prince Pondicherry puppet.

"It will have 100 rooms and everything will be made of dark or light chocolate." I mimicked Mr. Wonka's voice.

"Soon, after days of building, it was complete. Everything was covered in chocolate, from the carpets to the furniture!" I said.

"It is perfect, in every way."

"Yeah, but it won't last long. You better start eating right now."

"Oh, nonsense. I will not eat my palace. I intend to live in it."

"But Mr. Wonka was right, of course. Soon after this, there came a very hot day with a boiling sun. The prince was living happily until he discovered that the palace started to melt. It took hours but the palace was completely gone." I placed the puppets down on the floor.

"If only he listened to Mr. Wonka. The prince sounds like he's stubborn!" a boy, named Jay, argued.

"He does sound like one, right?" I said. "But, the prince sent an urgent telegram requesting a new palace. Unfortunately, Mr. Wonka had some troubles for himself in the factory."

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They all complained as I left them on a cliffhanger. Then I made the decision to end my story there. The kids continued asking for the ending, but I told them they needed to sleep.

Someone suddenly knocked on the door. Miss Mitchell walked in and announced that it was lights out time. The kids left the room one by one, bidding their goodbyes and goodnights to me.

"I think it's time for you to sleep now," Miss Mitchell said, then smiled as she sat on the edge of the bed.

I climbed into bed after putting the felt puppets in the closet. "Can't I just stay a little longer, please?" I pleaded, but Miss Mitchell tucked me into bed.

"Just because you act older doesn't mean you forget yourself for a while," she said softly, soothing my head. I yawned and closed my eyes slowly, on my way to my dreams.

She kissed my forehead and switched off the lights. "Good night, (Y/N). Sweet dreams," she said as she closed the door.

I always knew that Miss Mitchell and the orphanage were very special to me.