I grabbed my backpack and cautiously opened the door. I gasped at the sight before me. Everything was so….so bright. It was pretty exotic looking too. Houses were circular shaped and made of white plaster with a domed roof; in fact it reminded me of pictures I saw during school on housing in Africa….was I in Africa? I erased that thought as soon as it occurred to me. I mean how could a tornado blow you halfway around the world then leave you standing? Totally absurd…but then where the hell am I?

"I don't think I'm in New Jersey anymore" Way to state the obvious Becky I scolded inwardly and turned around at a loss. Something caught my eye then. It looked to be…a pink bubble. It was floating toward me and growing at an alarming pace. I backed up, eyes wide as saucers with my mouth hanging wide open. The bubble then came to a stop and seemed to fade away, like a mass of pink fog being blown away by the wind to reveal a person. A woman.

My eyes were falling out of my head. She was like a polecian doll come to life, like someone taken directly from a fairytale, dressed in an extravagant if not ridiculous pink, sparkly ball gown, complete with a jewelled tiara and a pink wand with a sparkly star at the tip instead of a simple point. Then she spoke.

"Are you a good Witch or a bad Witch?" she asked with seemingly overdone perkiness or perhaps it was just her.

"Huh?" I said stupidly considering I just fell out of the sky.

"Are you a good Witch or a Bad Witch?" she asked again

What the hell? And what do you mean by witch?" "Uhhhh… well um…what's a Witch to you?"

"A Magickal person"

I stared at her blankly. "Err…..Magical?" I said uncertainly

"Yes dearie - magickal."

"Is this some sort of religious thing?"

"No"

"So then…."

"I mean this literally"

I blinked at her in disbelief. "Literally like…literally?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, then no. No I'm just a regular 16 year old kid. Becky Johnson from New Jersey"

"New Jerzay?"

"Yeah, it's in the United States"

"Oh!" she giggled perkily. "Then I'm a little muddled!" (Ya think?)" Because I was told a new Witch has just dropped a house on the Wicked Witch of the East! And there's the house and here you are, and that's all that's left of the Wicked Witch of the East" she said motioning toward my house and sure enough there was a pair o f legs sticking out accusingly at me.

The sight surprised me a bit. It wasn't really what I expected for a person's leg whose rest of the body got crushed to look like. I expected the legs to be deformed, for bones to have snapped up as open fractures, blood oozing around the protruding bones, bruises trailing from her knees (where the house had made contact) to her ankles. But no. The Witch's legs looked perfectly intact – pale, dead, and creepy looking but still intact. She also wore a pair of red, open flats that were also in perfect condition.

I had to be grateful the lack of deformities for I felt my stomach sink anyway as if I had swallowed a weight, my eyes grew wide, my mouth opened then closed as I struggled to sort out my thoughts – I had no idea where to start.

Holy shit! I killed a person! Who was she? Does she have any relatives? What are they going to do with me? Crap I'm gonna get a criminal record in a country with magic bubbles and Witches….why I am I assuming the Witch was a she? What it's a guy?

"Oh crap" was all I managed to say "This…this is bad"

"Well hence her title "Wicked Witch of the East", it's really not that bad"

"Yeah but still!"

She merely shrugged and sighed which was a bit out of character. "So anyway, are you a good or bad witch?" she said

"I'm neither - I mean I didn't even know witches in this…context existed – "I was cut off by high pitched giggles sounding from the surrounding bushes.

"What in hell was that?" I said, scanning my surroundings with newfound trepidation.

"That was the Munchkins." She said "They are laughing because I am a Witch. I am Glinda the Witch of the North."

There was a pause. Did she expect me to bow down or something?

"So you're saying you're like a …magic…person"

"Um yes"

"Okay….So do you know how –"

"The Munchkins are happy because you have freed them from the Wicked Witch of the East" She said, cutting me off when I urgently needed to point something out.

"I get that they're happy but how –"

"And you are our national heroin!"

"Whoa! Hold up a sec-"

Man, I'm awkward

"It's all right! You may all come out and thank her!" Glinda continued, ignoring me. Then who I could only assume were Munchkins began emerging from the underbrush. I could only stare at them, speechless. They were gnome like figures, waddling slightly on their short, stubby legs and were all exotically dressed with shiny, striped waistcoats and top hats while women wore colourful skirts and tights.

I turned my gaze to Glinda who still had that grin on her face and waving her wand around randomly….is she on drugs?

By now I was fairly convinced that Glinda was a loon….. yet the more I peered at her, the less convinced I became like when observing a figure from a distance, ones features tend to be blurred and hidden from sight and as you move closer, they become clearer. Her movements became robotic, her words expressionless and her eyes glazed over like a student at a school assembly where you tend to just zone out.

``And meet the young lady who fell from a star``

She turned for a moment and grinned at me – too prolonged a grin like an exaggeration. That's it! I realized. That's what she was – an exaggeration. An exaggerated arrival, an exaggerated fairy outfit, an exaggerated optimism, an exaggerated grin, plastered on her face as if her mouth was somehow sewn into that position….like a character out of a fairy tale. I glanced at the Munchkins.

They had their eyes glued to me expectantly. I wasn't sure what to make of this and remained silent.

"Why don't you tell us of your arrival?" suggested Glinda, coming to my rescue

"Alright" I said slowly "Well there was a tornado – I'm guessing you all know that and then…..I blacked out……"I trailed off having nothing else to say on the matter

Glinda cut in. "Let the joyous news be spread, the Wicked old Witch at last is dead!"

The Munchkins cheered in approval and gathered closer, singing and dancing, and grinning at Glinda and I warmly. Then an elaborately decorated carriage parked alongside the platform. The driver motioned for me to hop in and I obliged. I then was driven around the area, passing celebrating Munchkins and a group of men that appeared to be part of some kind of militia who were marching in formation. We came to a stop in the centre of all the excitement and stepped out of the carriage.

A semi circle of soldiers had arranged themselves around us. Then the two in the middle turned sideways to let through what looked to be a group of 12 year old Munchkin girls dressed in exaggerated pink outfits that clung to their bodies. They danced and sang; welcoming me to their country. Then a group of boys went up and did the same, handing me this huge lollipop.

"Err thanks" I said, putting their gift into my backpack. The door to one of the larger houses opened at that moment, accompanied by servants with trumpets who announced their Mayor's approach as he made his way toward me.

"As Mayor of the Munchkin City" He said "In the county of the land of Oz, I welcome you most regally –"

"But we've got to verify it legally to see" cut in a different Munchkin

"To see." repeated the Mayor as if for clarification

"If she's morally, ethically –"

"Spiritually, physically – "said another Munchkin

"Positively, absolutely" cut in another

"Undeniably and reliably dead" they finished altogether

I stared at them incredulously. How can someone be morally, ethically and reliably dead? I mean if you'redead - you're dead! Honestly, what is up with these people?

I nearly rolled my eyes when a physician came back from examining the dead Witch

"I have thoroughly examined her" he said "And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead" And with that, he produced a death certificate from his inside jacket pocket that the Mayor and physician signed with flourish. That was fast I thought…..maybe even too fast, too organized.

The grand parade complete with carriages, decorated soldiers and even a welcoming presentation and now an official death certificate - all conjured up in a matter of minutes.

There's no way all that was organized the moment I got here – I mean they all appeared something like 2 minutes after I arrived! They couldn't have notified the local militia then had them get here that quick and even if they did; their performance was too clean - too rehearsed and were even connected with the other performances like the "Lullaby League"

The realization hit me like a slap in the face. Were they anticipating the Witch's death?

I scanned the crowd with newfound awareness. There didn't seem to be anything particularly unusual. Everyone was cheering, singing and dancing with grins on their faces and waving celebratory flares in the air as what was to be expected with the death of a tyrant or whatever the Witch was. I looked farther to the side. There were fewer people there and they were all older and unable to hop around and join the activity so they merely sat back and smiled, admiring the young and chatting amongst themselves, grinning toothlessly which was slightly unsettling.

But there was one in particular who caught my attention. He wasn't that old – probably in his late 60s – still able to join the celebration (or at least somewhat) but for some reason had chosen not to. He wasn't all that tall though taller than the average Munchkin – maybe around 5 feet.

I looked closer.

Or perhaps it was just the way his back was stooped over into an arch, making him crouch like a monkey. He had his hands stuffed into pockets at his sides and refused to look up and acknowledge his surroundings. He was dressed in a simple home – sewn tunic with black leggings, a black cloak, and a black satchel dangling from his shoulder as if in mourning at a funeral in contrast to everyone else. He sighed and suddenly looked up to meet my eye. His expression darkened at the sight of me, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and seemed to almost bore into the back of my skull while the rest of his face remained grey. Unchanging and unwelcoming

I felt a shiver run down my spine. He seemed almost deathly but he was alive – I know but not quite alive.

A sudden explosion tore me from my thoughts. I looked around in confusion.

The Munchkins had all hit the deck like a bomb went off, trembling on the ground and trying to avoid inhaling any red smoke while Glinda who came up to stand beside me just stared intently at the ground the way a child does when they're about to be prosecuted. Guilty.

I turned back to the smoke, coloured a brilliant red which was now beginning to clear. I nearly screamed at the sight.

That woman was GREEN.

She gave the off the immediate impression of a Witch ……but didn't necessarily meet all the criteria.

Her pale, ashen face gave her more of a haunted impression; her body seemed to be made entirely of angles that somehow managed to rearrange themselves to resemble human features. To top it off, she was dressed entirely in black; a simple black top, a pointed hat with a wide brim as if made to conceal her greenness from the world and her skirts, brushing the ground, moving fluidly about her. I looked closer. Her features seemed human like enough although they were sharpened enough to give one a pause. Her nose and chin seemed to almost resemble a snout while her eyes darted from place to place with the swift precision of an animal. She was like an undiscovered species of human rather than the demented, old, ugly hag Witches are known to be……and she didn't even seem that old. She was probably middle aged or barley.

"Am I in trouble here?" I asked even though I knew the answer. I was screwed

"I'm afraid so. She's the Wicked Witch the West." Glinda replied smoothly "She's even worse than the other one I'm afraid."

"Brilliant!"

For some reason, Glinda flinched at this. The Witch scanned the crowd of huddling Munchkins, leaning forward slightly like a hound

"Alright, fess up!" she growled like an animal "Who's responsible for this?" I remained silent "Well? Who killed my sister?"

Her sister?

Are you kidding me?

The Witch stalked forward, her broom dragging behind her and came to stand in the centre of the crowd, glaring menacingly at her surroundings in distaste….then she caught sight of me. I could feel my heart beating in my throat as she strode forward, never taking her eyes off me. I winced in advance, expecting her to shriek at me and to hop about in a crazed fit the way story book Witches are known to do. Instead she merely loomed over me, her tall, lanky frame blocking out the sun - her shadow consuming me.

"Was it you?" she said, her voice cold, level and strangely detached as if I were listening to a voice recording. I could feel myself starting to shrink.

You're getting the wrong idea here I wanted to say. "Um...sort of but…not" I said instead

The Witch narrowed her eyes "What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

It was an accident. I had no reason to kill your sister – I had no idea who she was! I don't kill random people. "Ah…well I did not intentionallykill her…my house landed on her and I happened to be there so….yeah" What are you doing? I thought, exasperated by my inability to speak properly. If you want to say something, say it godamnit!

The Witch's expression didn't change – in fact she looked even more ticked off.

"Well my little pretty" she said piercingly "I can cause accidents too!

C'mon, you know I have nothing to do with this. I mean really, do I look like a qualified assassin? I only I had the nerve. "B - But I have nothing to do – "

"Aren't you forgetting the ruby slippers?" Glinda cut in, sending me a warning glance. The Witch's eyes lit up at the mention of the slippers and she moved to claim them, muttering to herself. I watched her, confused at the randomness of all this. However, as the Witch neared the slippers, they miraculously vanished.

"They're gone!" She said in awe then turned angrily back at Glinda. "What have you done to them?" she demanded. "Give them back to me! Give them back or I'll…."

"It's too late!" replied Glinda sweetly almost patronizingly. "That's where they are!" She pointed at my feet.

I looked down. I was wearing them.

What the fuck?

"And that's where they'll stay" Glinda finished. I felt my heart stop

"Wait – do I get any say in this?" I said, my voice rising in horror

"Give them back to me." the Witch said to me, furious beyond telling. I swear, if this were a cartoon, she would have smoke coming out of her ears "I'm the only one who knows how to how use them so they're no use to you. Give them back to me – give them back!"

I threw up my hands the way one does in surrender "I don't even know what this –"

"Stay tight inside of them" Glinda whispered suddenly in my ear "Their magick must be very powerful or she wouldn't want them so badly."

"Then why don't you take them?" I hissed back

'"Hey, you stay out of this Glinda!" snapped the Witch "Or I'll fix you as well!"

I could sense an argument forming and discreetly inched away from the two of them. Glinda scoffed at the Witch

"Oh rubbish! You have no power here." she said, laughing. "Now be gone before someone drops a house on you too!"

The Witch looked sceptical at this. "Do you honestly think…?" She faltered noticing an odd shadow beside her, growing at an alarming pace. Then her eyes suddenly widened in realization and she dove to the ground with a yelp to avoid getting squashed….by a car. No way.

It was a black Doge caravan minivan with tainted windows and a scratch on the hood.

"THAT'S MY CAR!" I couldn't believe it! My car (or at least the family car) had been transported to Oz!

"YOU!" I jumped at the Witch's voice. She sounded venomous. I could my knees going weak as she strode toward me; newfound determination in every step

I gulped nervously"Um…that wasn't me." Somebody do something!

If looks could kill, the Witch would have been staring at a holocaust starting with me to the border of Munchkin land (wherever that was). I glanced at the crowd of Munchkins - perhaps for guidance but they were all crouched on the ground, whimpering, their hands covering their heads as if looking up would get them killed. Glinda wasn't any better I noticed. She had at some point shuffled behind me and was shifting her feet anxiously, her eyes glued on the Witch as if she expected her to lash out at any moment. I looked back at the Witch, her intimidating stature towering over me like a predator. She seemed to almost relish in the trepidation she was causing – like a typical bully for lack of a better term.

I could feel myself bristling at the notion, my fear evolving to malevolence toward this suddenly imposing character.

"You…" The Witch said again through gritted teeth, looming over me. I stared back at her, this time not with fear but with wary resentment.

"Yes?"I replied curtly, surprising even myself with my sudden cold demur. The Witch looked like she wanted to bite my head off.

"Don't you take that tone with me child." she said menacingly.

I could feel my resentment toward her increasing like a virus, intoxicating me. "You have a problem with my tone now?" I replied sassily.

"I have a problem with you in general"

"For what - What have I done to you?" I hadn't done any intentional harm to her. I don't even think I'm capable of doing anything to her.

"What do you mean for what? Are you honestly that thick? My sister is dead, you nearly killed me right after – and you're just an ignorant girl!"

This was unbelievable!

"God - you are full of conspiracy theories you know that?" I noticed Glinda twitch behind me "It – was - an – ACCIDENT!"

"Oh of course it was" The Witch replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, exactly! Glad you got that!"I said furious at her incredibly contentious attitude. Didn't she get it? I'm a kid who's never even heard of actual magic – well sure I've heard of it but the notion is considered ridiculous! I couldn't have done any of that even if I wanted to! And I didn't want to!

The Witch stood still; fuming, crimson flames dancing in her once brown eyes, making them almost appear to glow. She was practically shaking in fury, her hands clenched in fists at her sides, her face flushed in hatred and perhaps humiliation of being told off by a mere child. I could hear Munchkins sniggering despite themselves in the background.

Hmm…. perhaps I shouldn't have said all that

You – you little bitch!" the Witch suddenly roared and leapt toward me like a beast. I let out a terrified shriek, all previous thoughts toward the Witch fleeing. I turned on my heel and took off not paying much attention to direction, my eyes wide in horror.

But before I could take ten steps, I managed to trip in my panicked state on a huddling Munchkin.

The Munchkins, I realized was part of the Militia I saw earlier although this one had blue stripes running down his uniform instead of white. He was crouched on the ground covering his head with his hands, his rifle forgotten beside him. In a frenzied panic, I managed to swipe the gun in one fluid motion, and then spring back up, awkwardly am rearranging my hands around the unfamiliar object, one hand gripping the handle and the other around the shaft. I knew in the back of my head this was useless. These guns are only decorative - they shouldn't be loaded

But as I spun around, the thing went off, jolting in my hands, sending shock waves through my arms, an explosion echoing in my ears making them ring. I yelped in surprise and flung the gun to the ground. Why the hell was that thing loaded? Was it part of the ceremony?

There was suddenly a scream

The Witch was withering on the ground, her back arched, her mouth open in a pain filled scream, her hands clamped around her right eye, a bright, red fluid seeping through her fingers and running down her face. The Munchkins had begun to rise during the commotion and were now staring in shock at the Witch, their eyes wide, some covering their open mouths, others standing still, frozen on the spot. The bolder of them were shouting of betrayal while others argued and pointed accusingly at the Witch or more specifically at the blood streaming down her face.

"Look blood!"

"How is this possible? The Wizard said Witches are incapable of bleeding – they're all dried up!"

"The Wizard would not lie to his people– its Witch craft!"

But one merely looked on with guilty satisfaction

"I…I didn't know it was loaded" I said meekly, feeling the urge to defend myself although the statement wasn't directed toward anyone in particular. As expected, everyone was too occupied to respond to my justifications. The Munchkins were in a state of shock. It just seemed wrong to see the Wicked Witch of the West; the most feared and powerful creature in Oz lying helpless on the ground, pressing her hands against her burnt and bleeding eye.

And there was also the fact that all this was caused by an unwillingly clumsy child carrying a gun full of blanks - not the military of Oz that had for years made it their prime objective to hunt the Witch and confront her with their expert snipers and squads. No. The first move was done by a foreign child that had dropped down not 30 minuets ago.

For a moment, the Munchkins considered moving in on the Witch.

A mob diving in on her like a viscous bird swooping in to attack with remaining celebratory flares, the smell of burning flesh, the Witch flailing about to get away, her head thrown back in a satisfying scream as she felt flames burn her through skin, then through muscle, sinking deeper and deeper….but the moment for violence had passed.

The Witch rolled over and struggled to a kneeling position. Then using her legs to push herself up, she instead propelled herself forward, the motion causing her to stumble dangerously downward. To everyone's surprise, it was Glinda who came to the Witch's aid. She thrust her arms out, placing her hands on the Witch's shoulders, her face filled with peculiar concern. The Witch jerked back roughly in return and turned for a moment to stare at me.

She brought her hand away from her eye. I recoiled at the sight, cringing. Her eye had completely clouded over in a brownish red color, the same substance running down her face like bloody tears. It bore into me as a tacit accusation.

"It's true I can't kill you here and now as I like" she said icily, her voice dripping with malice "But just try to stay out my way – just try! For in times like these my pretty you must kill before you are killed."

"Can't you just sue me or something?" I can't believe that actually came out of my mouth.

For a moment the Witch sent me an exasperated look before crying out, throwing up her hands in frustration and storming off to disappear into bright, red smoke.

This is sort of in reference to the original Oz books where the Witch has an eye patch - just so you know :)