Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked.
Goodness isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Likewise, "good" individuals tend to have a lot going on under the surface. This is information that I'm very aware of; I did, after all, get to the top by groveling and manipulating. Do I regret it? Well, sometimes.
"Not so pure after all, are you?"
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the words. The worst part of it is that my guilty conscience has taken on the voice of a certain green girl.
"How dare you stand by while everyone turns against me?"
That seemed to be the trajectory of her life. People always turned against her, just because of her green skin and their unwillingness to look past the abnormality. And… I'd be lying if I said I hadn't justified my actions with "it would have happened anyway."
"How dare you encourage it?"
She probably thought that I spread rumours like the rest of them, but I never did. I fed off of whatever they—the citizens of Oz, the Wizard, Madam Morrible—gave me, talking about keeping hope alive during dark times, proclaiming the eventual rule of goodness over current evils; but doing it never made me happy, it really didn't. True, I had wanted the spotlight, wanted people to adore me. But I had never, ever wanted it like this.
"How dare you abandon me?"
I don't have a defence for that.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
But it's too late, and regret is the price that I pay.