A/N: Recently I have received a review asking about the time period. Ok, this is set 18 years after Wicked ends, so possibly late 40s to early 50s. As for the other things…I'm getting there about Oz and stuff like that, so be patient with me. This chapter is going to be short, but I promise the next one will be longer.
The days passed rather quickly until Isabelle's eighteenth birthday. When the day arrived, she could hardly believe herself that she was an adult now. Yet, the void from her mother's death still proved to bring her joy down. For years they had talked about this day and now her mother wasn't there to celebrate it with her. In fact, neither one of her mothers were.
Isabelle stood in front of her mirror in her bathroom. Quickly she pulled her jet black hair up into a ponytail and stood there looking in the mirror. Today she was officially an adult and could make her own choices with nothing holding her down. She walked out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. All of her birthdays before were filled with her mother making a cake, presents, and the love of her mother. The kitchen was empty. Isabelle found herself wondering what her birth mother would have done for her birthdays.
Would it be the same as here or different? Do I even want to go to this Land of Oz? I do want to know where I came from and where I belong. The slippers are still in the closet in the box with the letter. Should I use them to get there? What if they don't work?
"Well," she said turning around from the kitchen towards her room, "there is only one way to find out if they work."
She went directly to her room and opened her closest door. The box, which contained the letter and slippers, was still sitting where she had left it a few days earlier. Slowly she lifted the box out of her closet and sat on her bed, almost bumping into the brass headboard. By the time she began opening the box, her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding in her chest. Her green hands slipped the box top off to reveal the slippers and the letter sitting beside it. Gingerly she picked up one of the slippers and slid her shoe off. The slipper fit perfectly on her small foot, so she quickly slid her other shoe off and put the other slipper on. She stood up from the bed and her black dress covered her feet entirely, hiding the slippers from view. So, she lifted her dress up to look at the shoes on her feet. Sighing in contentment, she twisted her foot each way to glance at her beautiful slippers. In truth, they were the most gorgeous shoes that she had ever laid eyes on. Isabelle was glad that Dorothy had given them to her. For a few more moments she stared in amazement at her slippers.
Suddenly, she remembered why she had put them on in the first place. Quickly she gathered a few things that she would need, her cloak first and foremost to hide herself if needed, a silk scarf to hide her face, and finally the letter from her birth mother. She went back to her room and stood next to her bed. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she began clicking the heels of the slippers together.
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home," she chanted over and over again.
A sense of dizziness overcame her and the room began spinning faster and faster until she fell onto the bed, unable to hold herself up. Upon a final look, it seemed as if the whole house was being picked up with her inside of it. Then everything went black.