Girl Supersonicboy: Thank you so much, it warms my heart to hear readers are enjoying it, especially because it's my favorite so far. I heard the song you were talking about, and I'd have to say you were spot on. I haven't seen the movie yet but I'm trying to get the DVD online.
The Wizard of Wicked: Thank you! I've been practicing. The dance was especially hard because I tried to make it as un-cliché as possible (though I kept thinking of the dance between Lord Hater and The Queen from Wander over Yonder.)
Disclaimer: being a writer means ultimate cosmic writing, and no rights to these characters and places whatsoever.
…
If Scarecrow could cry, he would.
After Dakota ran off, he just sat there in sadness, staring out at the exuberant city in front of him. Inside his brain, thoughts blazed like a wildfire, with the positive voice in his head was gone.
"Scarecrow." He looked up to see Ozma. "I can explain." He hastily climbed down from the roof. "I'm sure you can. But don't worry, I'm not here because of that." She turned around, and gazed out at the city for a moment, leaving Scarecrow thoroughly confused. "Then why are you here?"
She turned around and looked into his eyes. "Because in spite of the cheerful celebrations, I sensed sorrow." Scarecrow didn't say anything. "It is not too late, you know."
"I know. But even if I tell her? What difference will it make? Tomorrow she'll be worlds away."
"With her, your world has started. If she means so much to you, don't let her go so easily." Ozma silently walked away, leaving Scarecrow alone with his thoughts.
If there was something really important…
I won't let you go.
Scarecrow took off running to the halls to find her.
….
Meanwhile…
Now, Dakota was in her room packing her things, cheeks dry and stained with tears. As much as she didn't want to, she kept replaying the night in her head. The part that hurt the most was when they danced. Everything had seemed so perfect. I really thought he loved me….
Dakota glanced over at the bedside table, and saw Chip sitting by the lamp. She picked the teacup up, turning it over in her hand. She had kept it ever since that day in the library. Immediately, her mind flashed back to all those moments she had shared with Scarecrow. In them, was happiness, warmth, the lightheaded fear at losing him, the unspoken words she longed to say. In a flurry, she sprang into action, putting Chip back, jumping up from the bed, and grabbing paper and a pen. She wrote one to the Tin Man, saying she was retiring from the Winkie Army, and another one to her friends, saying she would miss them, but they were welcome to visit anytime. Once Dakota was done, she ran out of the room and into the halls to find him.
