I don't even know WHAT this is. It just sort of appeared. It's very strange formatting, which I'm far too tired/lazy to fix (:

This takes place during intermission, by the way, while Elphaba contemplates her life and how it has turned out. WOO.

I was thinking that I'd just make a series of drabbles, as that seems to be all I can write.

Yes/no?

Alone.

That's what Elphaba was, in every aspect of her life. The man she loved was trying to kill her. Her best friend was allowing lies to be spread about her, doing nothing to clear her name. Her family hated her, just as they did before.

No friends, no family, no love – she really was alone.

From time to time, she would wonder why she didn't just turn herself in, but then cursed herself for being so weak. No matter what, she'd continue fighting this battle, and continue speaking out against the general public.

But, she did miss her days at Shiz – more than anything in the entire world. When her main concern was Animal Rights, and her life nowhere near as complicated as it was now.

When she could see his face.

When she somehow believed he loved her.

Oh, what a fool she had been – he turned out the same as all the rest of Oz, blaming her for something she didn't do. Elphaba couldn't believe she'd been so dim-witted, thinking he was on her side. He was gone, along with the rest of her old life.

Now, all she was was the Wicked Witch of the West– nobody loved her, or cared for her. And when she eventually died, people would celebrate. They'd thank the Unnamed God that the times full of terror and and fret would be over, and the Wicked Witch would no longer wreak havoc on the citizens of Oz.

She bet that not even Glinda or Fiyero would grieve her loss, as they would be too busy festivating along with their fellow Ozians.

After all, no one mourns the wicked.