Yet Dorothy truly believed that deep, deep down in his heart, he thought her to be crazy, too. She wished someone believed her about her past. Wicked Witch. Glinda. Slippers. Scarecrow. Lion. Tin Man. Emerald City. Home. She pressed her palms to her head and pushed as hard as she could, trying to shove away the thoughts of creatures that everyone told her weren’t real. She screamed across the wheat and corn fields again and again until her voice cracked and her throat felt rough. “It isn’t real. It isn’t real.”
