A/N- I do not own Wicked, the characters used, or anything else for that matter in this story.
Nessarose Thropp paced. Her shoes--the beautiful jeweled shoes from her father--were the only thing that kept her out of that hideous chair. Her mind was in a tumult over what to feel. She was elated that she could walk but furious at her sister for leaving her again, furious at Boq for telling her he didn't love her. Desperate to find an escape before this sorry life of hers ceased.
"How could you Elphaba?! How could you leave me again?!" she screamed at the wardrobe, tears streamed down her face, "You always took care of me! I don't want to have to take care of myself anymore!"
There was no one left. No Elphaba. No Boq. No father. No one to take care of her and help her. But she could walk now. Why did she need anyone anymore? The slippers were hot to the touch, yet she couldn't feel it. Her entire life she had been confined to that cumbersome wheelchair. It wasn't possible to stay entirely mad at Elphaba. She could walk now because of her sister.
Her world had come crashing down around her. One second she was father's precious little girl, the next she was thrown into the position of Governor of Munchkinland. Power was something she wasn't used to. She abused her power. She stripped the Munchkins of the little rights they had to keep Boq with her. He didn't love her. She saw that but she convinced herself it wasn't so. She could make him stay so long as she was Governor of Munchkinland. As time went by his attitude had gotten colder and colder, but still she loved him.
The Wicked Witch of the East. That's what they called her. She had no dealings in magic, but she was manipulative. Her wickedness was all she had left. Her sister was a good soul encased in a bad exterior. Nessarose was a bad soul trapped in a good exterior. She had been so conditioned to believe in her own helplessness that for all the power she held, she was still at desperation.
'Nessa, I've done all I ever could for you and it's never been enough. And nothing ever will be.'
The final words her sister had spoken to her echoed in her head.
She opened the door to the garden. Her garden. The garden full of rose bushes. Beautiful and dangerous. Like her. No--she was tragically beautiful. A dead rose crunched beneath her slippered foot. She felt like that rose. As though something had came and crushed her on the inside.
The wind picked up, sending leaves and dirt into her face. She ran towards the cornfield. Away from the house. Anywhere but the house. She didn't look back. The sky darkened with clouds. A whirring sound met her ears. Nessa looked up from where she stood. Something--a house was it?--whirled above her.
She closed her eyes and waited. For what she didn't know. But this was her escape from this hell of a life. She knew that much. It came closer and closer, she stood stock still.
'Nothing ever will be.' The phrase repeated itself over and over again in her head.
"If nothing will ever be enough Elphaba, then this must be the end."
No one heard the words she whispered just before she died. No one knew the remorse she felt at that moment. No one saw the peaceful look on her battered face. No one would ever tell of how the Wicked Witch of the East had loved so much but lost everything in return.
A/N- Please review!