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Rated: E · Short Story · Family · #1560232
An untold story of the wicked witch of the west.
Father Time and the Wicked Witch of the West

The Wicked Witch of the West looked in her mirror and frowned. Age lines, highlighted by her fading green complexion, ran from the corners of her mouth, making her frown appear like a sweet smile - how grotesque! Her eyebrows, once a lovely flaming red, had morphed a yucky pink. And the crowning pearl, admired by all the Witches of the clutch - her purple nose wart - had lost its lustre. Witches were beginning to whisper behind her back!

Her incantations had failed to restore her once youthful, vivacious appearance. She had always been a beauty, by Witches standards - no other standards mattered. It had never occured to her that her beauty would not last forever, she was a Witch after all! But the mirror did not lie. Angrily, she grabbed her broom handle and swung at the “smiling” image in the mirror shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Brooding, Elzina the Wicked Witch of the West, flying on her broom, pondered her fading beauty. Why is this happening? What or who is responsible? Did wicked Esmirelda cast a spell on her? Esmirelda had always been jealous of Elzina’s nose wart. It would be just like her to diminish Elzina’s beauty through a wicked incantation. It would make Esmirelda’s infinitely inferior nose wart the most admired among the witches.


Esmirelda, stirring a witches brew over a roaring fire, looked up to see Elzina circling overhead astride her broom.

“Don’t interrupt me! I’m in the middle of a spell,” Esmirelda said, annoyed.

“Squirming lice, putrid mice,
boiling brew, curdled rice,
touch of gruel, tasty stew,
pollywogs from sickly slough

Swirl near, swirl far,
pus askew a festering scar,
bring my enemies over thar
frightful blisters black as tar”

Elzina swooped down nearly knocking Esmirelda over with her rough landing. Eyes spitting fire, Elzina grabbed Esmirelda’s stiring staff from her grasp. “I knew it! You’re putting a spell on me! I knew it!”

Esmirelda fell back, astonished. ‘No I didn’t! What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about! You have cursed me with your vile curse, stealing my youth, stealing my beauty!”

‘My incantations are not about you,” Esmirelda protested. “I’m just having a little fun with that odd looking Dorothy who’s been messing around Oz lately; her and her silly little dog, Toto.”

“Toto too? Wait, if you aren’t trying to steal my loveliness, who is?”

“Dorothy, of course - it has to be her. Dorothy and the straw man, the one with the brains. Look in the crystal ball; Dorothy is determined to rid the magic kingdom of our glorious axis of evil. She killed the bodacious Witch of the East when she landed from that place called Kansas. You, my pretty, leader of the Witches, are her primary target. If she tarnishes your beauty, we are all vulnerable.If you fade away - if you melt - we all melt! Don’t you see?”

Stunned, Elzina stammered, “She...she killed my sister?”

“You didn’t know? You should be the first to know. Why don’t you know?”

“I’ve been busy. I’ve not been well. Look at me! I’m wilting! Who has time to look into a crystal ball. Life happens, you know.”

“A bard once observed: life’s a lark and then you die.”

“What’s a bard?”

“A bored poet.”

“What’s a lark?”

“Something edible...I think.”

“I don’t get it?”

“It’s alright. What are you going to do about your sister?”

“What am I going to do about my wilting?”

“That definitely is peculiar. I don’t know any other witches smiling happily when they’re so wretchedly distraught.”

“It’s the curse!” Elzina lamented.

“I know exactly what must be done, Elzina. Trust me. We have to find the source of Dorothy’s power. We have to reverse the curse and then you will have the strength to avenge your sister’s death. I’ll help you. I only want one thing...”

“Yes! Anything!”

“I want to be the fairest Witch in the land.”

“Wha...what? Never!”

© Copyright 2009 Brent Sisson (cybersisson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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