Hello everyone! I'm Royal! This is my first Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Factory Girl .The title is not only a tribute to one of my favorite bands, the Rolling Stones, but also it just makes sense. So enjoy. I don't want to give to much away, but I will sat here to clear up any possible misunderstandings.

1). This is based off the 2005 movie with the amazing Johnny Depp *drools*

2). Charlie is changed to be a 17 year old girl and this is written in her perspective.

Anything else I will let you all figure out.

**IN this version all "F**ks" and "F**kings" have been replaced with "hell" and freaking (wanted to keep this age appropriate, if anyone wants the original, I might post it**

Anyway enjoy, and just to get this out of the way. I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, if I did why would I be locking myself up in my room writing this?

Chapter one (p.1): Lampposts and Tickets

WHAT THE HELL?

How the hell did I end up as the... What even am I for ? His Babysitter? His playmate? Three freaking weeks ago I was just a normal- well almost normal- girl who was just trying to get through school and home and...

This will get really confusing, Lemme just start at the beginning.

My name is Charlie Bucket, I'm your average 17 year old girl. Okay, well, not really I wish. My family has literally no money. Although it is the year 2013 my mum is convinced that only a man can hold a job and will not search for a job. Its like she is stuck before the feminist movement. My dad on the other hand had a job. It had been going kinda well, but just lost his job. Did I tell you he worked at a toothpaste factory?

Yes , the freaking toothpaste factory, I kid you not, where he did nothing but screw toothpaste caps onto sealed tubes of toothpaste. All day. Everyday.

I mean seriously, maybe if he had finished college instead of doing nothing but party and get high all the time, we might not have been in this position. They don't even care about my poor grandparents, all four of them, who share a bed. A single bed.

Well I blame the four of them too, I mean, who doesn't leave a bed for over 20 years. I mean seriously, what the hell.

Well, whatever, I can't worry about my weird family. What I wouldn't do to get out, I looked at the small calendar near my bed, or should I say sheet covered hay. "Five more months," I groaned to myself, still half asleep.. Next to my bed, was a picture. It was kind of faded, due to crappy production, but the actually picture was still surprisingly clear.

In it was a young girl, perhaps ten or eleven in age, with long mid-back length ash-brown hair. She was smiling brightly, showing off a toothy grin, with wide, bright hazel eyes, full of hope, "When was the last time I have smiled like that?" I mumbled aloud to myself.

I lazily shuffled out of bed, feeling a slight creeping ache climbing up my spine, and began my day. I slid off my unprepossessing grey sweat pants, and threw on my favorite jeans. They were the color of coal, with a big tear in the front. Now, I'm not trying to look goth, or punk with the rip, it's just, after wearing the same pants for over two years, they get some wear and tear. And don't even get me freaking started about stereotypes.

After looking over my small, very small, wardrobe, I decided to put on a plain white button down shirt, which was once my dads, along with a handmade cobalt blue scarf, a gift from Grandma Josephine and Grandma Georgina. Overall, I looked very basic. I looked like a Bucket.

I slunk down the ladder and to my family, who was already eating breakfast. Slurping and gnawing loudly on their home made meal, "Cabbage." I stated as the rancid green smell crept into my wrinkled nose.

My mum just looked at me sadly with her dead eyes, "No 'good morning'?" she asked. Her eyes had been like that ever since I entered teenhood, and left the blissful days of childhood behind me.

I sighed trying to ignore her eyes, "Good morning Mum," then I repeated in the same tone, "Cabbage."

She just smiled, it was sad, but it was still a smile, "You know how hard things have been, Charile," she took a pause, as if to hold back tears, "but its the best we can do."

Sighing again, I reached into my jean's pocket, "Here," I said handing her a £10 note*, "I know it's not a whole lot, but I earned this during the week, and I really want to eat something other than cabbage so-"

I was cut off by my mum's sniffling, "T-thank you Charlie, It almost seems like your yourself again." She thrust her arms around me, I stiffened under her grip. After an uncomfortable minute, she released me.

I just shifted awkwardly on my feet, "Yeah, its really nothing mum," I assured her.

She smiled, "I'll be sure to get something really special for you."

"Um," I began, "you really don't have to do that, how about I just give you half of my paycheck each week, you know so we can have a real meal once in awhile," I left off 'and something other than freaking cabbage soup.'

Trying to quietly escape my house before having to shovel another meal of cabbage down my throat I said, "Well Mum, Ms. Apple wanted me to report to work early today... so I best be going." That was a lie. I didn't even have work that day, I just wanted a way out of the cramped house, When did I become a liar? I mused to myself.

"Oh," my mum uttered slightly dejected, "I guess I'll see you for dinner?" She would always ask me those kinds of things.

I could only put on my best smile, "Of course mother. I'll see you later." Mum waved me off as I began my departure from the house.

I walked outside, trying my best not to let the drifting snow into the house, which was in a disheveled enough shape as is.

The snow aimlessly floated down in feathery clumps. Despite the snow fall, the world was encased in a certain blanket of light, that made world seem actually nice. It was as though the world wanted to be warm, even though it was freezing.

I wrapped my arms tighter around me, trying to block the stinging cold from attacking my skin, "I wish I had some kind of coat," I grumbled. I walked down the worn, cracked sidewalk, which seemed to become paved and flawless under my boots as I entered the city.

Buildings towered above, each one a taunt to my life less than perfect life. I reached into my pocket to see what I had hidden inside. After digging out my father's old pleather wallet, I found three coins, a two pence, a five pence, and a two pound coin. Exhaling, I placed them back into my wallet. "I guess I'm not going to buy some kind of real food." I mumbled, kinda wishing I had given my mom less money.

Shaking my hunger off,I began wondering around the city aimlessly, unsure of what I was going to spend my day doing. I noted how the snow transformed the landscape. I felt my feet, carry me around the city, and without my full approval, I found myself in front of a factory. No the factory. I grumbled, I always found myself here, when I was bored, or sad, or angry.

Inside this massive castle of iron, lived a man. At one time I had wished with all my heart that I could meet this man, but that was when I was a child. Now, that I was older, the magic has seemed to fade. The factory once caused goosebumps to race up my arms, but now as I stood there, nothing. I guess, I would much rather, get a job and just live my own life. I slipped onto the ground, and sat up against the iron wall that separated me from this place. The bitter cold of the metal pricked at my skin, but I ignored it, "But I can't hate this place," I found myself blankly saying, "I still would like to go in someday" I admitted. Stopping my thoughts, I took a deep sniff of the heavenly aroma that was released out of the factory in the masses. The smell of warm chocolate filled my nose, heating up my body with it. I swear goosebumps began to chill my arms.

I stopped myself sharply before I got too caught up the 'curse' of Wonka. While shaking my head, I told myself, "Give up on this dream Charlie and find a new one."

Once I was standing up, I brushed the white film that had covered me during my break. Taking a final look at the factory, I closed my eyes, "I can't expect to meet a faceless guy." I shoved my white hands into the pockets of my jeans and began to walk away, "Anyway I bet that Willy Wonka is a real strange character anyways." The comforting light, had dissipated, leaving the scene looking blank and bitter. Like the beginning of some horror movie.

My thoughts brought me to my grandpa Joe. I recalled having him once tell me a story about the man, seeing how he had once worked for him. I would always stare at him with gullible eyes, a smile strewn across my face so tight, it would hurt afterward. My favorite story of his, was about a candy that made. It was in the shape of an egg, and once you put it on your tongue, a small chick would appear.

I would always laugh at this, and often make a comment about growing my own chocolate chicks. At this point, Grandpa would, ruffle my hair and only smile saying, "Charlie you can do anything you wish."

Lost in the memories, I hardly noticed a truck whip past me, "The hell?" I yelled surprised by the sudden movement on the normally quiet street. Straining to what had just attempted to kill me, my heart froze when I saw the all too familiar logo printed on the side, "Just what the hell is going on?"

Without warning the truck halted to a stop, and without a sound, out jumped a man. It was hard to tell his nationality, in the dim lighting but I could see that he was young in age. He seemed to be of average height, and was wearing a dark blue work suit. Holding a piece of thick paper in his hands, he grabbed a nail from the satchel on his waist. Then he swiftly grabbed a small hammer, and did what appeared to be hammering the paper to the post. I only blinked one time throughout the whole process, and that was to see if it was really happening. Then, as quickly as he had arrived, he hopped into his truck and left. Leaving only indented tracks in the snow as proof.

Shocked, I stumbled, to the iron lamppost. "No way?" I said softly, a mix of disbelief and awe washing over me. With my hazel eyes, as wide as saucers, I stammered the written words to myself, "Dear people of the world- I Willy Wonka have decided to allow five lucky children or teens into my factory. Hidden inside five ordinary Wonka bars are Golden Tickets. These tickets can be anywhere in the world, in any country, in any town, and in any shop. One of these five lucky children will also receive a lifetime supply of chocolate, along with a special grand prize. Get chocolating, and I cannot wait to see who I meet," I took a quick pause to catch my breath before continuing, "Sincerely, Willy Wonka." I found myself yelling by the end.

By the time I had finished, a large crowd had formed around me, each and every person, had heard the truck and now was pushing me and each other to see the note from the Wonka himself. The eerie silence that had washed over the group when I had been reading, had now ceased and the cluster erupted into deafening noise.

"Is this for real?" One man, with chocolate skin and short brown hair, asked, disbelief lacing his voice. He was wearing a suit, and on his ears was a blue tooth. If I had to guess, I would say he was on his way from work, and I would have to say it was a nice job too.

Another woman with a heavy Turkish accent screamed, "I'm not taking any chances, I'm going to buy some hundred bars of chocolate." Needless to say she had already rushed away, her faux fur coat trailing behind her.

"Neither am I!" some more voices called, then proceeded to rush to the nearest candy store, all leaving a cloud of dust behind them..

Everyone who remained was trapped in a state of astonishment. However, soon the air turned very hostile and rigid. Now everyone was in competition to get the golden ticket. By the time everyone had left the area, either through methods of running, or slinking off, the sky was dark, and the snowfall had long since ceased.

I still stood there the silence striking me loud and clear, until the reality of the situation hit me "What the literal hell?" I said softly aloud, "is this some kind of cruel joke," I then screamed up to what I guess was god, "JUST WHEN I WANT TO FORGET THIS HAPPENS!"

Trying to Calm myself down I took a shaky breath, "Oh well," I said, "I just won't buy any chocolate, that's a sure way not to win."

I shuffled into my house a little after six. My mum immediately smiled and questioned, "Anything new Charlie?" Her smile was spilling off her face like water from an overflowing bucket, "anything at all?" She was wearing a plain mousy brown dress, that looked to be around one hundred years old. Her shoulder length dark auburn hair, falling in tight curls on her face.

I kept my face straight, "Nope, nothing at all."

"Really?" My father asked, beginning to probe me as well, "nothing?" He was brightly smiling too, causing me to grow more and more concerned with every moment.. His short, reddish blond hair fell in random chunks on his neck and forehead. I guess thats the consequence of having a home done haircut. He was dressed in simple shaggy brown jacket, and old corduroys.

"Okay," I began slowly not sure what my parents wanted to hear exactly, "when I was out today, a truck from Wonka's-"

"Factory came out and posted notices saying how he will allow five lucky children and teens, thats you Charlie, into his fabulous factory for the first time in over twenty years ," my mum took a big breath, grinning tooth to tooth and continued, "Oh Charlie can you believe it? Five people will be able to meet himself!" Without restraint, she flung herself onto my dad in a tight hug, a smile still strung across her face.

Then my grandfather from his place in his bed chimed in, "Oh Charlie, imagine opening a bar of Chocolate and finding the golden ticket. It would be magical."

I just frowned, "Yeah, but the chances of me finding one is very rare," then I continued with, "I mean, there might not even be one in England."

I could feel the whole room stiffen suddenly with that comment, not wanting to admit that we are dirt poor. So to try to lessen the intensity in the room, I added with a forced smile, "I mean, It would be rather magical though."

I could feel my Grandpa Joe smile, "Charlie, I remember how much you smiled that first day the Factory reopened. You begged me to tell you all of my secrets and stories from when I worked there."

I could only smiled back at him, "Yeah," I could only say in response to him. "Grandpa," I started, "just how old was when you worked for him?"

"If I had to guess," he said in his wise tone, "I would say around twenty or thirty years younger than me."

I thought about that doing the math in my head. My grandfather had to be in his eighties, "So he would be around sixty or seventy years old by now?"

My Grandfather just nodded, "Yes, Charlie." He opened his mouth, as if to add something else, but shut it again and no words came out.

Our little conversation ended like that, luckily my mum said, "Okay everyone, time for dinner." Which ended a possible awkward situation.

I trudged to the table,if the ragged thing could be called that, inwardly grimacing at the bowl of cabbage mush placed in front of me, in an aged plastic bowl, "Thanks mum." I said, trying to be as nice sounding as possible.

She only gave me closed smiled in return, Oh no, I gulped, what the hell is she planning? I shoveled the goop into my mouth, trying to ignore the taste. No conversations were began ,but I still ate in relative peace.

Once dinner was over, I began the nightly routine of clean up. First I go to my grandparent's lying place and retrieve their bowls, earning a "Thank you Charlie," from each of them. Then, I go to the small sink, and do my best to wash the delicate dishes, with the limited materials I have- an ancient and smelly sponge, and cold water, that trickled like a cork was stuffed in the faucet..

Once the dishes are all washed, I went to the table and wiped any crumbs off, in an attempt to keep my house somewhat nice.

"Charlie," my mum said tenderly interrupting my nightly habit , "your father and I have a surprise for you tonight."

I looked over my parents, my mum was smiling, for the most I have seen her in a long time, and my father was hiding something behind his back. He also had an uncontainable smile on his face.

"We had known about the Wonka thing all day," my father began, only to be cut off by my Grandpa George.

"The freaking story was blasting over the bloody telly all day. It was\ impossible to not know about it!" I smiled at my Grandfather's sailor mouth, knowing I got mine from him. His cynicism always seemed to brighten my day, as awful as that sounds.

When I was a child, he would attempt to censor his mouth, but now he stopped caring. I remember my dad going as far as covering my ears in order to protect my innocence.

"Anyways," My father started again, "We had heard about it on the news earlier and thought, 'Wonka's Chocolate always made her happy on her birthdays,"

I paled, They didn't. The last time I had asked for a chocolate bar was when I was 12, now at 17,a piece of candy would not bring as much joy.

"So your mum and I thought it would be a perfect use of the money you gave us," he took another pause, his smile stopping his words.

No, no they wouldn't be so stupid... No.

"Anyway," my mum continued, "here you go!"

They did In her hands was a neatly wrapped, Wonka's Chocolate Bar. I weakly took it from her hands asking in a faint voice, "Where did you get the money to buy this?"

She smiled, "You know the money you gave me this morning Charlie," she explained, "I used that! I really wanted to give you something special!"

I plastered a smile onto my face, "How much of the money do you have left?"

She frowned slightly, "Well you see the chocolate was expensive, that I spent most of it on it."

My parents are freaking stupid. "Thank you mum!" I cheered trying to sound happy, unsure of what to do with the bar in my hand.

"Well," my Grandpa Joe said, "open it Charlie!"

"R-right," I said beginning to unwrap the red wrapper covering the chocolate.

I could feel everyone's eyes beaming into the chocolate bar with intensity. I placed the red wrapper on the table, knowing that if I make less of a mess now there will be less to clean up. I sighed, I hope no one is really expecting me to get this, I began to unwrap the silver lining. Ripping it off the bar , I revealed, just a brown bar of chocolate.

"See," I began, "nothing."

Everyone seemed to share a wave of disappointment, "Oh well Charlie," my dad began smiling sadly as if to make me feel better, "next time."

Smiling sadly, I gave each a member of my family a piece of the chocolate. They took it with much splendor and shoved it down their throat, coming for second and even third pieces. In the end, I didn't get a piece.

I didn't have the heart to tell them that there would be no next time. It's hard being the only realistic one in the family.

Well tell me what you thought. Sorry for the slow start, but umm review and give me feedback, feedback is nice ^^o.

Have a good day/ night/ morning!

-Royal