Her eyes were closed, everything was black and static, and she longed for air but couldn't think to breathe. It was funny - wasn't she dead? Or perhaps she was dying…
Then suddenly, the engines and drives that kept her system going had jump started, her lungs kicking in her chest as she breathed a mouthful of cold, dusty air, her eyes snapping wide open at the shock of the feeling, the world around her, a mass of sickly, glowing greens and purples before fading into proper image.
She breathed again, easier and looked around.
She laying on the ground, staring up at the girl, at Dorothy who in return stared down in disgust and fear, the eyes wide, whimpering, hands wringing themselves is distress.
"I didn't mean to." whispered Dorothy. "I didn't mean to…"
Oh not this again, not now.
She pulled herself to a seated position, leaning back heavily on her arms.
She tested her voice. "Dorothy, we've been over this." She sounded gritty like she just got up from bed. "I….I don't care that you didn't mean to…..."
"Oh Lord, do forgive me."
"Cut that out I say!"
The Witch hauled herself to her feet, her stance unbalanced like a toddler even as she loomed over her child enemy, glaring. Dorothy was still staring downward at the Witch's feet, horrified at the sight. The Witch stopped for a moment, her head cocked quizzically to the side as she studied the child's face. It was as if the Witch's shoes had suddenly sprouted teeth or something.
"Dorothy what – Oh my god!" she screamed and nearly fell over at the sight of her dead body. She stood, wide eyed as Dorothy at the grisly murder scene, green skin peeling away from the face and neck, bloody muscle tissue falling away in chunks, still sizzling with corrosion, the eyes – her eyes, wide open in panic as if she had struggled to survive, the mouth open in a silent scream. But it didn't feel like her, she held no attachments.
It was like a fucked up version of staring into a mirror, a reflection of sorts.
The Witch wanted to look away, wanted to run away but instead stood, transfixed as the sight was too horrible to ignore.
But then she followed Dorothy; the two of them staggering out the door, numb. She was a suddenly a bystander, a passive audience to a future she wasn't meant to see, that she was no longer part of. They made their way down the winding stone steps - the same steps the Witch had dragged Dorothy up just moments ago. A different life.
Liir, having somehow escaped the kitchen came bounding around the corner, his face anxious.
"Dorothy what happened?" he exclaimed.
"I'm fucking dead that's what happened!" I'm dead. What a ridiculous thing to say. "Your precious Dorothy murdered me!"
"I didn't mean to!" cried Dorothy and for a moment, the Witch wasn't sure who she was replying to.
Liir pulled Dorothy to down to sit with him the steps. The Witch sat next to them, knees folded against her chest, watching in distaste as the boy snaked his arm around Dorothy's shaking shoulders, peering down at her in concern and naive adoration. Under any other circumstance, the Witch would have found the scene endearing; the awkward teen and his awkward first attraction, a classic.
She sighed, looking away at the ghosts of Fiyero and herself, huddled together at the entrance to the corn exchange, on those cheap wooden steps, warm despite the impending cold.
This was just sad. All her memories were now spoiled by their outcomes; her time at Shiz with dead Nessarose, the Traitors, Glinda Boq, Milla, even Avaric. There was Fiyero, grinning as she made some moody, snide remark, unaware of his fate, her time at Kiamo Ko, another tragedy and now Liir. The boy had gone from her side just like everything else…including herself.
"Wait – what do you mean gone?" said Liir, his eyes wide with fear.
He was afraid for her, how nice…actually it kind of was.
"She's gone!" wailed Dorothy. "She caught on fire and there was water – but I didn't know! I tried to save her….."
"…..After you came here to kill me…" the Witch added.
"Dorothy, what are you saying?" said Liir.
"You know exactly what she's saying." replied the Witch, not sure why she was still talking to them. She was probably in denial, clinging to the aspects of being alive. But how can one deny being dead?
The day went on without incident as everyone was too shocked to act out, the murder still fresh in their minds. Dorothy and the Lion fretted about in agitation, perhaps dreading the complications her death will cause – the Lion did at least. Liir wanted to see the body, pestering Nanny for the key to the tower but what good will that do? She was dead and that was the end of it.
"I don't want him to see it." said the Witch, facing Nanny.
"C'mon, let me up!" exclaimed Liir. "I want to see it."
"The sight would turn the holy blind." said Nanny. "So it's a good thing I'm an old sinner but you – you're just a young fool. Forget it Liir." She pocketed the key.
The Witch stood there for a moment, quizzically.