Disclaimer: Because Stephen Schwartz, Winnie Holzman, and Gregory McGuire would waste their time on
Author's Note: Inspiration came from A Kiss in Time. Meant to be more symbolic than anything else. Other than that, well... Enjoy! Please review.
Paralyzed with fear, she watched as the Witch ordered her winged monkeys to make sure the Scarecrow, Lion, and Tin man were in no fit state to rescue her. They took flight out the window. Quickly the Witch shut it. There was a thick silence in the room in which the Witch glowered at her and Dorothy felt as if she might faint.
"Please don't hurt me," Dorothy whispered.
The Witch drew her piercing eyes away from the girl. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm on the run from the Wizard of Oz for committing no crime at all and I don't want to waste my time torturing little girls. Don't make this difficult for me. Hand over the shoes."
Dorothy took a step back. She protested. "But… the Good Witch of the North told me not to."
The Witch exploded. "GIVE THEM TO ME! THEY BELONG TO ME!"
Dorothy was too scared of what might happen if she gave the Witch the shoes to do any such thing, whether they were rightfully hers or not. "No!"
And the Witch disappeared in a puff of red smoke. As days passed, her friends did not come to rescue her. She sat waiting for them by the window, not really seeing outside of it until one day when the Witch had thrown rather a nasty fit about the slippers: a funny-shaped bottle of an unusual lavender-colored liquid had come flying off its shelf with such force that it broke and its contents caused the dirt on the window to vanish.
After the Witch had left in another puff of red smoke, Dorothy peered through the clean glass. Her view was a garden of some sort full of plants that were only slightly similar to those back in Kansas. Most of them were disfigured, dead, wilted. Dorothy thought most likely because her tower shadowed all light in order for the plants to grow. Climbing up the outside of her tower was a sickly green vine covered in thorns. It seemed to be reaching for the sunlight.
The following day, the Witch had almost run out of plans for getting the Ruby Slippers. She entered much less melodramatically through the door, her face not full of its usual rage. "What are you looking at?" She asked.
"I never knew you had such an… unusual garden." Dorothy said.
"I haven't the time to water it. Don't mock me. It looks horrible," the Witch said bluntly.
"Well…I suppose that it's beautiful in its own sort of way."