A/N: My first attempt at anything in the Wicked fandom.
Disclaimer: As is generally assumed, what with the fanfiction and all, I do not own Wicked or anything related to.
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The girl with the flaxen curls and porcelain skin would not normally be thought of as anything but a radiant beauty, merely terribly unlucky to have been paired with the awful green girl.
Rich, beautiful, and sometimes, even perceived as intelligent. That was all but forgotten when the dainty fingers linked with those of the terrible green thing. Vicious smirks, weary glances, malicious whispers all but took over the minds and actions of the students that surrounded the girls.
No one is truly sure whether it was the mere scandalous implications that the held hands between the girls left, or if it was simply a matter of she touched the green girl, she's as bad as her!. It didn't matter. The porcelain skinned princess was no more, what was left behind, no one cared enough to name. Not until a name was called for.
In later years, when people would tremble in fear at the mere utterance of 'The Wicked Witch', through their fearful sobs, you could often hear them asking, "West?... Or North?"