"The Meaning of words"

Dorothy could only hear her voice. Mocking her from above. Yelling orders to return the jeweled shoes. She doesn't listen as she runs into the room with her three friends by her side. Her goal was to go home and the Witch was the price she needed to pay to leave. As soon as they enter the room Toto jumps out of her arms heading for the tall witch.

Now in the room she stills in her steps, the Wicked Witch turning to them, to her, with an angry scowl. She's frozen in her spot.

But her scowl isn't what made her stop in her tracks. What made her stop is how young the witch looked from up close, how young and fragile. Almost in pain. As if in misery or in mourning.

'This is a wicked witch?', The young girl thinks as she gazes at the green, "Wicked Witch of The West".

She looks down at the witches legs, Toto is wagging his tail as he runs circles around the witch. Unafraid. Her Cowardly Lion friend starts to bawl and runs away, leaving her with the other two.

'Is the witch someone cruel, dangerous, or someone who just lives freely?'

The green girl looks down at Toto and her expression softens for a moment before its fixed, and her scowl returns with more hate than before. Accusing her of things she had no control over.

Does she feel fear? Curiosity? Hurt? As the so called witch yells out the accusations.

'Who is actually right?' , The green girl in demanding the shoes off her feet knowing full well that she is unable to remove them, or herself, in not trying to help find a way to remove them, and return them to their rightful heir.

The witch points her broom at them when Tin man attempts to swing his axe at her. She hisses in anger, her wild brown eyes glancing at the three of them as green energy surrounds her and blasts the Tin man to the floor.

"You Witch!" Her Tin friend cries out, nudging a bucket of water and splashing himself. His tin body rendered stiff and unmovable. Beside her Scarecrow takes a step forward.

'What does it mean to be a witch?'

When she arrived, everyone whispered 'witch' in terror, in fear. The people of this strange land living in fear of the word. But what does that word mean?

The green girls eyes widen a little as Toto barks out in distress, running to Dorothy. A slim green hand falling to her stomach for a split second before her broom points at the two remaining intruders.

'Is the witch an evil and soul less creature? Or a helpless soul?'

Her eyes dart between the two of them. Toto is whimpering to be picked up but she cannot take her eye off the green girl.

'Is she attacking them or simply defending herself? ' She wonders, slowly lowering herself to pick Toto up.

With Toto sitting comfortably in her arms her eyes meet the witches again looking at her in utter loathing. Scaring her.

'Is she just scaring me? Or is she afraid?', Dorothy tentatively inches forward. The witch bares her teeth and pushes her back with the broom.

A Winged Monkey flies into the window carrying a medicine bag claiming it's for the freed Animals, it halts as he sees them. The witch quickly instructs him to take them and hide, he is not safe here, she says.

'Is she attacking the people's freedom or living in freedom?', She asks herself as the Monkey flies off with the medicine.

The Witch. Wicked witch.

Wicked can mean bad; heartless; immoral. Witch can mean sorceress; bitter; hateful woman.

People say those two words a lot, that she asks herself if they really understand the words they say.

Two words. Wicked Witch. They can incite more anger and can be more powerful than a rain of missiles.

A word the people say, or a word someone doesn't say, whether it's shouted or it's whispered can unleash an entire revolution. It can unleash a terrible chase, a deadly hunt.

Dorothy can hear the witch hunters entering the castle. She can hear them marching up the stairs and she steals a glance at the witch. Her eyes betraying the fear that her glare is trying to hide.

Dorothy is unable to finish what she came here to do.

The Scarecrow opens his mouth.

...

You never realize all you have to say until you begin to speak. The words are there, trapped in his straw filled head, wanting to be spoken, to be said, and shouted.

Back at Shiz, she would argue with him and talk endlessly, never giving him a chance to speak. When he did speak she would call him out immediately and instead of arguing he ran from her truthful words.

Elphaba raises her broom at them, hissing and threatening. His old Shiz friend laying on the floor, unable to move a muscle. His hard glare fixed on her.

Elphaba looks at them unafraid, but her hand rushes to her stomach and his eyes widen at the small gesture. Her eyes do not stop, nor linger as they dart between the two.

When he is afraid, he has always hidden it behind a cool mask and mocked those that showed their fright. When he is angry with someone, he gives up and tells them 'I'm fine and happy, ' because those words always helped him hide from what he was really feeling. He no longer wants to hide what he is feeling. Never again. He can hear the heavy boots in his castle. He knows what he wants. So he steps forward with an arm out and calls her name.

"Elphaba."

…

Growing up Elphaba always thought that words gave answers, but once she got old enough she understood that words give something more powerful: questions.

She would ask why she was the only one that was green? She would ask why no one wanted to play with her as a child, why her sister only associated with her away from the other children's eyes? Why? Always why.

She stopped asking why and instead began to respond to the questions. Responding is a powerful defense mechanism. People would ask her small questions and she would blow them off and make a curious acquaintance, into an angry and spiteful enemy. She's learned that it's more powerful to keep quiet at times. To be silent and stay out of trouble. Something she didn't learn until after she mounted her broom for the first time. Because silence also has words, but these words could have been saved, specifically chosen and could have patiently waited for the perfect time to be revealed. But she hadn't.

It had taken her a few words to unleash a hurricane. Throwing her life to the wind and letting it take her where it wanted.

The wind had taken her away and far. It had hurt her and caused rifts. It had healed and gave her love. It gave her life.

As she blasts away the body that once was a friend, her hand unconsciously flies to her stomach.

Life.

Life that deserves a fair chance.

The Man of straw takes a step forward and she braces herself. Needing to defend what she is carrying. Hearing the voices echoing against the stone walls.

She would stay quiet and finish this.

"Elphaba. " the voice rings out and her broom twitches in her hands. When the word seeps into her mind it snaps her out of her rage. Only for a small moment.

Words are distracting, deceiving. Her own confused thoughts, her words unsaid, turn into action.

With a flick of her hand, a red flame is born. Dancing through her fingers, she feels the heat, but she cannot feel the pain.

She would protect what she carries.

Act. It has always been her favorite word because you don't say it, you do it.

The words are still in her head, like a virgin, ready to be used. The Tin man - For there was no remnant of the boy she once knew as Boq - screams at her. The farm brat squeals in terror for the man of straw.

The words the tin man says provoke her, they disturb her, they make her move. With a flick of her wrist the flame pushes away from her hand flying through the air. The brat who murdered her sister tells her to stop. She doesn't, she has to do this for herself. Other words come out of her mouth, menacing and threatening. Who do those words belong to? To her, many others before her, or everyone? What good are words if she says them and no one listens. Do words mean anything if no one is listening?

The young girl panics turning her back to her and lifting the bucket from the floor. She can only flinch as it hits both the man of straw and her.

She can feel the burns as she slowly slips down. Her hand protecting her stomach.

Without words, there is no silence.

Without silence, there is no words.

…

She can feel her skin welt. There will be pain for her decision. She doesn't know how long she has been waiting. When she hears the light steps she perks up, attempting to smile.

He really was alive.

The door above her opens and her eyes close for a few seconds until she opens them to adjust to the light. She drags herself out, pushing with the last remnant of her strength and stares into the eyes of her lover.

They stare into the eyes of the Man of straw. The scarecrow. She panics for a second, thinking of what she tried to do minutes, hours, or days earlier.

She doesn't know why she stays quiet, and she wonders even more why she should speak.

There is silence as he gently helps her out, cradling her in his rough prickly arms that bring her more comfort than anything else in the world.

They stay silent, finding the words until something, someone, makes them speak.

The girl steps out, looking tired and relieved as she kneels down and places a hand on hers. Her blonde ringlet's falling to her face as she cries quietly.

Elphaba knows there is many words she can say, there is a lot of words she knows. And yet there is only silence, not knowing which word to use.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but when a word has meaning, it can contain a thousand images.

"My friend."

…

'Everything will be okay someday, ' She thinks as she watches her former lover and her dear friend hold each other. It was only a moment ago that she whispered the two words, making her elphie smile.

And despite it all, she smiles at the words that Fiyero says when he opens his mouth.

"We'll be safe," He says as he lays a hand on her friends stomach. "I give you my word."

She doesn't think she has ever heard an expression that beautiful, full of meaning and love. She watches her friends green hand slide up and rest on top of Fiyero's. Elphaba's eyes beginning to water.

He whispers the words again, "I give you my word." as he stops the tears from falling.

Despite his current condition she feels his words, she finally understands why he had surrendered everything for love. His words are more than wishful thinking, they are a lifetime commitment. An act of faith for she knows how they are perceived in the public eye.

From that moment on, Glinda knows that when all hope is lost, a few words can lift them up and carry them to safety.

Glinda Upland.

Glinda the good.

She will be true to her name. She will be the good that restores a nation, restores a life, and restores the despair caused by one woman's malicious words.

Because that is the meaning of her words. And of her name.

She only needs to believe and trust. Needs her friend to believe in her and trust that she will keep her words.

And the meaning of the word wicked witch may forever change.

It may change for good.