Hi! I've just been reading another story about Dorothy going back to Oz and this time seeing Elphaba's true colours, without the death of Nessarose turning them wicked. I'm now trying my hand at one too. Twenty-five-year-old Dot is in for a surprise!

I kicked off my crimson heels and relclined on my sofa, switching on the TV to watch some of the cute little cartoon shorts. Even at twenty-five, I still loved those. The only person that knows is my partner, Matt, who came in five minutes later

"Hey, Dot. How was your day?" he asked, giving me a peck on the lips, as usual. I smiled at him.

"Tiring. Those shoes are also so hard to walk in. How was yours?"

"Why do you wear those shoes, then?" Matt asked, avoiding my own question.

I guess I should explain. Ever since I was a girl, I'd always liked red shoes. It was after I got caught in a twister. My aunt and uncle told me they thought I was going to die when they found I had gotten hit in the head by a window that had gotten loose. I had a vivid dream about going to a magical land called Oz, when I had to go on a quest where I realized the importance of home. On my arrival, I was given a pair of sparkly red shoes from a witch who was crushed underneath my house. I got attached to red shoes after that, even more so since the witch's sister nearly killed me just to get the shoes herself.

That's something I feel a little guilty about. I killed both of the sisters. My house accidentally landed on one, and I accidentally threw water on the other, and it made her melt. Sure, it helped me get home, but I'd just murdered her sister, and all she wanted was a memento of her sister's life, which happened to be her shoes.

Back to the conversation. "I've told you about my childhood dream." I said to Matt. "Oz is pretty close to my heart, even though it's not real." I sighed and added "Probably..." under my breath. I still half-believed that Oz was real.

Matt laughed. "Well, Dot, Oz is part of what I love about you. Your story is so amazing. I still remember everything about it. But it's also pretty wild. You told me the farmhands on your farm when you were a kid inspired those friends you met, but what about the witches in it?"

I sighed. "I wondered about a place where troubles 'melted like lemon drops', over the rainbow." I explained. "I was sure Oz was over the rainbow. But I don't know why no trouble meant I nearly got killed."

"You told me you melted the Wicked Witch of the-what was it again?" Matt asked, eyes sparkling the way they did when he thought of something humourous or inspired.

"West." I answered. "She was the one with green skin."

"Anyway, she was one of your troubles in your dream, wasn't she?" Matt reasoned. "And she melted like a lemon drop."

I chuckled. "Maybe." I grew melancholy. "Sometimes I wish it was real. Then I could go back, maybe pay respects to both witches I killed. I also miss my friends-I miss Glinda too. But how can I miss someone in a dream?"

Matt laughed. "Dot, you're reading too much into it. But the main thing is, your complaining about those ruby heels is driving me crazy. So maybe it's time to let go of your childhood dreams and move on."

I smiled at Matt. He didn't really understand my shoe fetish, but he was right. I couldn't find any sensible red shoes, so I made do with high heels. I needed to start wearing shoes that didn't hurt me.

I couldn't sleep that night. I lay awake, thinking about Oz. Mainly the two witches I killed. The Wicked Witch of the East was the one I crushed with my house and the one whose shoes appeared on my feet, which I was sure was something to do with Glinda. After all, she was the only one who could've transported the shoes onto my feet without my realizing. The Wicked Witch of the West was the sister, who tried to kill me to get the shoes and avenge her sister's death. As a child, I was only terrified of her, but as I got older, I realized why she had gone so crazy over the shoes. If only Oz was real, I could go back and ask to go to their graves-or place of death, and apologize to them.

Then a crazy thought entered my mind. I got up and slid my feet into the shoes that looked the most like the shoes I got in Oz-sparkly, with little heels and pointy toes. Then I closed my eyes and kept thinking to myself nearly the exact same phrase I'd used to go home, just changing it to Oz.

"Glinda, if you're listening, please help me come back to Oz." I murmured. "There's no place like Oz, there's no place like Oz..." Before long, I started feeling dizzy. A vision came into my mind, of my old house spinning through the cyclone and landing in Oz. I remembered my dog and childhood best friend, Toto. Some of my adventures of Oz swirled through my mind. Most of all, the words Wicked and Good spun through my head, although I didn't know why. Maybe it was because good and wicked were the only things black and white in Oz.

Finally, I opened my eyes. I stood on the yellow brick road. Just ahead was my old house. And when I stepped forward, I saw an inscription carved on the house:

House of Dorothy Gale of Kansas

Oz's heroine

She will always be welcome here-All of Oz

Well, that's my prologue. Read and Review! I'll give you cookies in the shape of Wicked merchandise *coughimaginarycough*. But seriously, I want to know what people think, even if you hate it.