Author's Note:
I do not own Wicked (musical or book) all characters are the brain children of L. Frank Baum and Gregory Maguire. If you find my subject matter inappropriate or incorrect I appologize.
She watched him walk away, always away, arm in arm with Galinda, always Galinda, never Elphaba.
It is understandable. Predictable even. Crystal clear. Who would ever choose an odd, gangly, green, reclusive…No stop Elphie…Sweet Oz…Elphie?!?!...She is rubbing off on me.
I'm jealous…Of that blonde, bubbly, bimbo…Who just happens to be my best friend…No, not just jealous of Galinda…I'm jealous of Nessa…No…I guess I was always jealous of her…Now there is just more fuel on the fire.
Jealous of Nessa…And Galinda…I always was jealous of Nessa…She was father's favorite…She had father's love, beauty, natural pigmentation, and the shoes…Galinda has everything too looks, popularity, money, Fiyero.
And Elphie has what?...Books, great conversation with them…Green skin, sexually attractive for sure…Doctor Dillamond…No he's gone too.
Then the thunder boomed and the heavens opened to cry for her. For the briefest of moments the green girl hesitated with her umbrella. Wouldn't it be grand to let the water wash it all away…No burn it all away.
No the quick, painful erasing wouldn't express the pain enough. She put up the shield as water fell.
She paused. A thought floated through and she picked it up. She'd read in a book about self mutilation. She couldn't now, not until she got to the dorm anyway.
Standing in contemplation the emerald girl didn't notice the rain peter off. Then there were only droplets and it surrounded her in a curtain of drips. Then the thought floated in again, pestering the girl like a small mosquito from Quaddling country.
The water. This was poetic justice. The painful rain could wash the pain away.
Almost without thought the sleeve was pushed back. The pale unmarked jade field stretched slowly toward the drips, just beyond the umbrella's edge. Then a drop hit and ran down the emerald wrist to drop off near the elbow.
The fiery pain seared and brought tears of pain to dark eyes. Then the pain ebbed. All water ebbs, drains. Like my pain. The girl observed detached from the throbbing appendage.
The progress was repeated with the opposite arm. Then the tears ran streaking down bright green, slightly flushed cheeks. The paths the tears had meandered down burned as well. Then all pain ebbed.
The green girl was amazed how two, long, red welts erased all the pain. As the rain stopped all together she pulled the sleeves down, hiding all trace of the pain and its erasure. She was glad she had because around the corner came Madame Morrible.
She can't see these. Horrible Morrible would never understand, no one would ever understand her.