I watched her smile fade slowly, the corners of her mouth falling. Her eyes were glossy and I felt ripped up on the inside. I knew all too well what she was planning.
"Hide yourself," she urged, but her voice sounded unsure, "no one can no you were here." She rested her emerald fingers gently on her chest, though I noticed them tremble slightly. And then she turned sharply, hiding her face from mine. In a flash she'd disappeared behind a curtain. From a damp and dirty corner I watch as the Wicked Witch dies. Her shrieks fill the room like thick liquid, so heavy it's inescapable.
"No," I whisper, choking on my almost silent words. I realize then that what I'd said rand truer and deeper than I realized. She was the only friend I'd had that'd ever really mattered. Stronger and braver and tougher than I was able to comprehend. I felt the air leave my lungs and felt the compression. Felt the tears burn my cheeks. I saw it all, frozen and helpless.
"I love you," I cried, my now screams were inaudible though over the orders of the guards. "Don't leave! You can't leave me here alone!" But she did, she left me here in the corner of her former dwelling. Scared and torn apart. All I had left of her was her ragged, silken hat and a promise to never reveal the truth. I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably on the cold stone floor, cobwebs sticking in my hair. The worst part was that when I slowly dragged my numb body back to the city I had to somehow sing and rejoice, announcing the wonderful news and restricting my heart like a bird in a cage, like my Elphie in her wicked title. "I'm limited."
"Good news!" rings in the grounds behind me, but all I can hear is her voice in the wind, "Because I knew you..."
The Witch of the West was dead and everyone who knew her story was long dead and gone. A new era had begun in Oz, but to me it's haunting was all to present.