Monologue Of Charlie Bucket

Charlie Bucket was an ordinary boy, neither stronger, nor faster, nor cleverer than any other child his age. His hair was an ordinary brown, neither too dark nor too light, neither too short nor too long. His eyes were green or they were brown or they were gray or they were blue, for they seemed to be rather undecided about color and changed with Charlie's emotions. He was not too tall (except for his pants) or too short or too heavy, but was perhaps too skinny He was from a poor, but loving family which lived in a tiny ramshackle house in a modest little city that was neither too big nor too small. The little city's claim to fame was the presence of the largest chocolate factory in the world – the Wonka Candy Company. Charlie loved that factory dearly. He loved the lines of its tall, tall smokestacks. He even loved the curves of its protective gates which kept the entire world out, including him. Most of all, he loved the wonderful scents that drifted down from its towering heights. They were the most scrumptious, sweet and soothing scents he had ever smelled. He loved it so dearly that he had made a model of the factory out of broken and warped toothpaste caps which his father brought home from his job as a cap-screwer at a small toothpaste factory.
Little Charlie had lived in the shadow of that marvelous factory, inhaling those glorious, amazing odors for his whole life. He could not imagine a life without that colossal, magical building in it. He could no more imagine that than he could imagine life without his family – his mother and father, his Grandpa Joe and Grandma Josephine, his Grandpa George and Grandma Georgina. The factory, the factory's smells, his parents and grandparents had been constant and there for as long as he could remember - there since the first day of his first sweet breath when his adoring parents had brought him home.

However, his Grandpa Joe had told him that this was not always so. Grandpa Joe remembered, oh how much he remembered! He even recalled when there was no factory at all. This was a great astonishment for Charlie. No chocolate factory? Unthinkable! But his grandfather said it was so, which meant that once upon a time, it must have been true. Even more importantly to Charlie, Grandpa Joe knew when the factory was first built, when it opened, when it was closed ("How horrible!" Charlie had thought silently) and he had even known Mister Willy Wonka! He had once worked for the man himself, first in his candy shop and later in his factory. He was still working there right up until the day it was closed - FOREVER!

But it hadn't been forever at all, because it was working right now.
Mysteriously functioning, with no people going in or out, except for the Wonka delivery trucks (and Charlie knew, because he had looked extra, extra hard, that no one knew who was driving those trucks because the drivers could not be seen). Willy Wonka was a great and wondrous and tremendous mystery for Charlie Bucket, more of a myth than a real man. For, you see, Willy Wonka had not set foot, or shown face or hair, outside of his factory since before Charlie's birth. The only proof he had of that great man's existence was his delicious candy (which Charlie could smell all year long but only taste once a year on his birthday) and his grandfather's
tales.

Now there were no more stories though and Charlie was a very sad, lonely boy. Because, this past spring, just as things were getting warmer and the Buckets were starting to breath easier, having survived another cold winter in their too cold home, Grandma Georgina had suddenly died. As if they couldn't survive without each other, Grandpa George swiftly followed her, then Grandma Josephine, then Grandpa Joe. Charlie was heartbroken, though he tried to hide it from his grieving parents, not wanting to add to their already overburdened shoulders. His only consolation was the chocolate factory. He went by it every single day going to and from school, and he always stopped to inhale the warm, delicious scents. He thought if he closed eyes and concentrated extremely hard he could actually taste the chocolate on his lips. Then having drawn in what strength and courage that he could, he would rush to school (to face the lessons and bullies of the day) or rush home to do his chores and homework.