Lucky
Glinda's POV
This is a story about a girl named Lucky.
I rolled over and muttered to myself, "Time to get up and face the day." I got up slowly and began to get ready for the day—it was getting harder, day by day, to drag myself out of bed and avoid something that would set off the pain, but I'd taught myself to ignore the pain that came from losing Elphie—I still missed my best friend and I pretended everything was fine.
Early morning, she wakes up.
I heard a knock on the door and I called to the servant outside the door, "Come in."
Knock, knock, knock on the door.
I carefully began applying my makeup, and making sure I'd a smile on—it had to be perfect—after all, today was the anniversary of the Witch's death.
It's time for makeup, perfect smile.
I knew everyone was waiting for me to show up—I was a little curious as to what would happen if I didn't show this year—I'd wondered about that every year, but I still came.
It's you they're all waiting for.
As I neared the celebration, I almost could hear everyone whispering about lucky I'd been—I hadn't been lucky—and wondering why I'd wake crying in the middle of the night.
They go 'Isn't she lovely, this Hollywood girl?' And they say. She's so lucky, she's a star. But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking if there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?
The night before, I'd curled up in a ball—the way I always slept since Elphie and I'd parted in the Emerald City that day—that fateful day that changed our lives forever— and I had had a dream that Elphaba—Elphie—came back to visit me—to tell me she'd missed me too. Unfortunately, I knew it was a dream and I knew I'd have to wake myself up—I didn't want anyone to ever see me in any type of pain.
Lost in an image, in a dream. But there's no one there to wake her up.
I got up and I knew the world hadn't ended yet—that it was still spinning and everyone thought I was still winning. What if it stopped? What would happen then?
And the world is spinning and she keeps on winning. But tell me, what happens when it stops, baby.
I knew everyone would think I was lucky, no matter what I said.
Isn't she lovely—this Hollywood girl?
I had to find a way to get them to see that I wasn't that lucky.
And they say... She's so lucky, she's a star. But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking if there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?
I saw the reporters and knew they, along with everyone else, were waiting for my arrival.
Best actress, and the winner is Lucky! I'm Roger Johnson for Pop News standing outside the Arena, waiting for Lucky.
As I got closer, everyone began cheering my arrival.
Oh my God, here she comes!
I fought back the urge to grimace and smiled, faking like I did every single day.
Isn't she lovely—this Hollywood girl?
As the celebration continued, I left, and let the Ozians celebrate and they all agreed I was lucky, but why, oh, why did I cry?
She's so lucky. But why does she cry? If there is nothing missing in her life, why do tears come at night?
Everyone thought of me as being lucky and said as much—not in my hearing—but word gets around and so I knew what everyone thought of me.
And they say... She's so lucky. She's a star. But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking if there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night? She's so lucky. She's a star. But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking if there's nothing missing in my life, then why do these tears come at night?
The End