A/N My first published fanfiction! Reviews are very welcome. Warning: this does contain spoilers - read at your own peril. Musical-verse. Slightly Fiyeraba.
Scars
The darkness was overwhelming. I sat in the cellar at Kiamo Ko, knees tucked tight into my chest, hair draped across my shoulders. For the first time, I noticed my scars, dark, bloody red, a stark contrast to the emerald green of my skin. Each mark represented someone that I had failed.
The first, my mother, Melena. After my abnormality, Father had insisted that she chew milk flowers, to ensure a normal coloured child, every day of her second pregnancy. It had killed her. It had also crippled Nessa forever - the second person that I had failed.
Next, my father, Frexspar. He died of shame after my irresponsible actions. I know he never loved me but he was my father. And he'd only hated me because I'd failed him.
At this desperate realization, a tear rolled down my cheek, leaving a phosphorescent stain. How long had I been waiting down here? Surely Fiyero should have rescued me by now.
Fiyero took my mind to another era. Shiz. All of the people I had met at university. I'd failed them too. Although they'd called me names. Made fun of my skin. Although I'd suffered that pain, the pain of knowing how much hurt I'd caused to the only people I could call friends was worse.
Doctor Dillamond. My teacher and inspiration. He helped me see the beauty in my abnormality. His knowledge and kindness, silenced - literally - by my own actions.
Boq. I should have tried to save him. More than I did. He'd lost everything - because of me and that blasted book. All he'd ever done was love.
Glinda. I'd let her down. The pain of her choice between popularity and loyalty was clear. Even to me. She'd given up everything to protect me and all I've ever done was take from her. I'd stolen her happy ending, her fiance, Fiyero and enslaved her into a life of sacrifice. Yet she stands above to mourn me. How I longed to give her one vital clue, so that she would know that I live. All I could give was the return of the gift that she had once given me, and a green bottle of elixir, that I had first shown her all those years ago in our dormitory at Shiz.
I'd taken so much from my only friend. Tears streamed down my face, following the tracks that the first ones had created. I wept, for who knows how long, but I wept for everything that I had wanted, everything that I had tried to achieve and everything that I had done wrong.
Oh, Fiyero. I had done so much wrong to him. I'd gifted him a fate worse than death, with those Oz damned powers of mine. All because of my selfish desires. I'd ruined his life. And he still wanted to be with me.
Tears had soaked my worned dress. They flowed into my scars. It stung, but at this point, I was past caring. The pain in my heart was greater than any possible physical pain. I had ruined everything. When I was younger, I had hoped to make Oz a better place for everyone. But I realize now, that all I have ever done is try to help myself.
Selfish bitch. I deserve the title that they gave me. The Wicked Witch of the West. I know it now. I understand who I am. And as a wicked witch, I am ready for it all to end..
Footsteps interrupted my thoughts. The thumps echoed, and although I couldn't be sure, it sounded like Fiyero. And as I reached for my blade, I had one final thought. Fiyero is the only thing that is left, and I can't hurt him anymore. I can't allow him to lose the only thing that I have not yet taken. I abandoned the blade, and allowed him to prise open the trap door.