talking_muses: Dear Mother
Dear Mother
I can only write this because you're not going to read it. It makes you wonder why I might write a letter but the idea of just sitting down and writing down how I feel about you smacks of waste.
I used to talk to Candle about the origin of things. Nothing important, but little things like farms and sheep and melodies. What do you plant to get a church? What do you plant to get a henhouse?
What do you plant to get a child?
And the answer is nothing. Because there are two things needed for a child: a mother and a father, for as long or as little as one might spend as part of the process, they're both needed.
You asked me what I wanted, if I should ever get a wish from the Wizard. And I lied to you. I lied right to your face, and the most horrible thing is that it's almost as if I did it just to spare you.
I'd ask him for a father.
I'd have asked him for a mother too. Perhaps I'm selfish. It doesn't change the fact. When I realized who I was, despite all your attempts to the contrary, or perhaps lack of attempt to anything...
I don't know who you are. I never will. I never have except for a cranky old woman who only showed me apathy or hatred but nothing more or less than that. I won't apologize that I wasn't who you wanted, what you wanted.
I didn't kiss Dorothy after she killed you. Even when she offered. Even when she kissed me.
And I still have your broom. And I don't know what else to say. I wish I'd known you and Fiyero as well, known to know you, and I'll make it selfish, or more selfish, so you'll believe it as truth because I think I might have been less confused about myself.
Liir Thropp
Liir Thropp
Wicked/Son of a Witch
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