Elphaba has always taken care of me. In my earliest memories of childhood, I can always remember her being there. Back then, I thought nothing of it; after all, I couldn't very well take care of myself, but now… I realize what a huge burden that placed on her. Inadvertently, I robbed my sister of her childhood. She won't admit it, of course, but I know… However, even when I began to grow more independent, Elphaba was still there, and every night before settling into bed, she would sing me a lullaby, one of the few things our mother left us. Of course, if you ask her now, she'd swear up and down that she never sang.

The day I told my sister I no longer needed her to sing our mother's lullaby was the day I told my very first lie.

Shiz University. Having to stay here a year earlier than necessary was a bit unnerving, seeing as I had no classes, but I enjoyed taking in the new scenery. I didn't see much of my sister; Elphaba was running between classes, the library, and her job. At night, she'd come into my room and check on me, helping me prepare for bed before singing me to sleep.

Then, one icy December night, she didn't come in. I sat in bed, my oil lamp burning low as I waited. Elphaba was never this late… had something happened to her?

"Time for bed."

"But Nanny, Elphaba hasn't—"

"Don't you worry about young Melena." Nanny extinguished the lamp and pulled the blanket over me. "Good night Nessarose."

I heard her cross the room and I was left staring at the ceiling. Where could Elphaba be? I turned to look at the door that connected our rooms, desperately wishing I could make it over there on my own. As I turned to look back at the ceiling, a sudden persistent squeaking reached my ears. I furrowed my brow, wondering what that could be.

"Elphie…"

"Glin…"

My eyes widened. My sister wasn't missing; she had chosen to spend the night with her popular and rather blonde roommate… and they were engaging in… activities that were too sinful to think about! A pang of hurt hit me hard in the chest, though I knew I shouldn't be feeling this way. I had stolen so many years of Elphaba's life by being crippled… it was her turn to live her own life. I didn't need her… I didn't...

The next morning when I woke up, I rolled over to see Elphaba setting a tray down on the desk. "Elphaba?"

"Oh, you're awake." She came over to help me sit up and lean against the headboard. "I apologize for my absence last night, I was buried in my schoolwork."

"It's all right." I knew it was a lie of course, which was probably why the next thing I said was inevitable. "I think I'm too old for mother's lullaby anyway."

Elphaba's eyebrows rose in unison. "Oh? Is that so?"

I nodded, forcing my voice to keep from shaking. "Yes. I am sixteen years old now, Elphaba. I can fall asleep without you singing to me."

My sister straightened up, looking a bit confused. "All right… if you say so."

I never told her what I had heard, and there was no need to, for I did not believe then that what I had said was a lie; I believed that I was really too old for a lullaby.

It was after Ama Clutch's memorial service that we went out to the Peach and Kidneys for drinks and saffron cream, and I remember that I had had a little too much to drink, more than I should have. I couldn't tell you why; perhaps it was because I wanted so desperately to fit in, to prove that I was more than just some freaky beauty. Or perhaps it was to help lessen the blow of what had transpired between my sister and myself that morning. In any case, Nanny took me straight to bed, and even though the alcohol clouded my brain, my mind refused to rest. Without Elphaba's soothing melody, I could not will myself into sleep. I decided in the morning that I would tell her I'd made a mistake.

I never got that chance. Elphaba never came back to Shiz.

Over the years, I was able to sleep without the lullaby, but it was always fitful and never as calm as before. The next time I saw my sister, at thirty-five years old, I could not bring myself to tell her the truth. How could I? I tried to convince her to stay, but she would hear nothing of it… and I can't blame her.

So here I am, preparing to present Munchkin children with awards for their perfect attendance tomorrow. I wish I hadn't lied to my sister… I wish she was still here to sing me to sleep… perhaps in the future, I can make things up to her.

This is the story of a bird with no wings

But certain that it can fly

Sailing on love into the head winds

Forcing its way by and by

If only we were as strong as this bird

Our spirit would never die

What do we name it?

Hope is the right word

Hope is the bravest, most beautiful bird

In the sky