A Willy Wonka Love Story (1) Candy DoLittle

READ THIS PLEASE!!!!!! I AM ONLY PLANING ON WRITING A FEW CHAPTERS OF THIS STORY CUZ I'M BORED, UNLESS I GET SPECIFIC MESSAGES ASKING ME TO CONTINUE, AND ONLY IF PEOPLE RATE. Oh, and quizilla is fricken messed up. they should really work on the rate

Created by addicted.to.life on Thursday, February 22, 2007

My name is Candace G. DoLittle, but I often go by Candy. I'm 19 years old and I live in England. My mum is Scottish and my father Brittish. That is, they were before they died in a car crash 2 years ago. I've since given up on my dreams of going to colleage(sp?) to become a writer. But don't fell bad for me. everyone dies sometime, right? My parents had to go eventually, I guess... ANYWAYS, I now work in a small candy shop called 'Sweet Delights', only a few blocks away from the infameos Wonka Chocolate factory.
Oh, and you may want to know what I look like. I'm about 5'5 but I always where heels, so I look taller. I have insanely curly blond hair that's more than a foot away from my head on each side and almost a foot above my hea. Yeah. I know. Big hair (but it's not round like a fro! It falls very long around my shoulders). I Usually where a head-band to keep it out of my face. Oh, yeah, my face. Fair skin with freckles. I also have big round blue eyes and high arched eyebrows that make me look constantly alert, or maybe just surprised.
I have nice teeth, but they may be just a teeny-tiny bit bigger than normal. Because of my teeth and freckles I have a pretty childish looking face. But definitely not a childish body, if you know what I mean. I pretty skinny for someone working in a candy shop, and I have wide (but not fat!) curvy hips, and, uhh, umm... well... How should I put this without sounding like I'm bragging? UNCOMFORTABLY large bre*sts... Not HUGE or anything, but I get alot of stares from old, creepy looking guys on the streets.
Actually, I have a kind of funny story about that(THAT being the kiddish face and large bre*sts). And by 'Kind of funny' I mean, 'Ruined my entire highschool social life'.
You see, in grade eight I was on the Jazz Dance Team. One of the other girls once said to me, in front of about 12 other people, "Wow Candy, with that face, you could model childrens clothing till the day that you die!". It spred quickly. I was constantly teesed, being asked if I'd lost my Mommy, or gotten on the wrong bus. It was around this time that my bre*sts were starting to get bigger. So I thought that I'd shed the reputation of looking like a little kid by dressing more grown up. And by grown up, I mean cleavage and mini skirts. So one day when I got on the bus like this, the same girl who had dubed(sp?) me a little kid called out, "Look! It's the worlds youngest 'Victoria's Secret' model!!"
And it stayed with me. The nic-name I mean. Some people still call me, "Victoria" or "Vic". I've learned to ignore it.

Anyways, My story, at least the part of my story that I wish to tell you, started one dreery, late November day. I slumped over the counter at "Sweet Delights". I was the only one there that day, and there were no customers.
I looked down at my reflection in the glass of the counter top. I sighed. My curls fell out wildly like a giant halow,and then down to my shoulders behind my thin pink head band. I wore huge silver hoops in my ears. My eye lashes had been coated in black and my lips were painted bright pink.
I had a low-cut, dark purple shirt under a think, fitting white denime(sp?) jacket. I also wore a short black skirt that went over the shirt and up to my belly button, kinda like old-lady pants.
Under that were black fishnets and then, up to my knees, styleish, shiny, white, fake leather boots with 4" square heels.
I looked positively... Odd. But I liked it, so what did I care what other people thought?
Just then 5 laughing teens, 4 girls and 1 boy, came through the door. They came up to the counter. One of the girls, short, with straight brown hair, green eyes, and much too much makeup on, said, "10 Wonka Bars with nuts please." I gave them the candy and she handed me some money. They were a pound short, but I didn't call them on it, since I new they'd be disapointed enough when they opened their candy and no golden tickets. Why didn't people get that it was like the lottery? No one really won. But try telling that to them. Hell, try telling it to Charlie Bucket, the kid who won ten years ago. And now he was haveing his Stupid 'Ten Year Annaversary(sp?) Contest' with Mister Wonka. Find 1 of 5 golden tickets and win a week at the factory with your best friend and the other winners. But unlike the contest ten years ago, ther was no special prize(i.e, win the factory), and also you have to be from the ages of 16 to 30 to go because it recwires(sp?) you to stay overnight for a week.
I watched as the 5 kids ripped open the chocolate and groaned in disapointment. All except for the too-much-makeup girl. She shreaked and tore out a shiny golden ticket.

~END OF CHAPTER ONE~

(ME: and by the way, I only edited the word, 'bre*sts' since quizilla has a really MESSED UP rateing system. It says that my story should be rated 'A'!!!! What The HELL???!!!)

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