Author's Note: This could be triggering, so please be aware. I am writing from some of my own experience with depression because writing helps me cope with my emotions.
~Vision
Depression is like drowning. It surrounds you; it consumes you as you lose the power to breathe. It drags you deeper into its depths with a grip so tight that you struggle to swim away, to reach the surface where everything is fine and you don't have to battle anymore. You begin to tire as the light of day becomes smaller and smaller, you decide to give up and allow it to swarm you- to drain you of your once lively self. And you find yourself feeling completely lost and alone in the world, and nobody will understand you. They will not help you. It will feel like that they will not care. You might beat yourself up over how you feel and it's because you don't want to live feeling like this. You might not want to live at all. And depression, like the ocean, can change its tide- it can ease back out or come crashing in with a tsunami. Nobody knows who could be stuck out at sea next.
Elphaba Thropp is all too familiar with the feeling; in fact she's fairly friendly with it. They shake hands, they greet one another if they ever meet and they rub shoulders if they were to pass by. Elphaba Thropp knows what depression is like.
It's had her on her knees, begging it to leave her alone but it forces her to withdraw into herself more than she has ever done. She shuts herself in her room to escape from it, her books sprawled on her bedroom floor and not one are picked up and finished. She spends the days either slumped on her bed staring up at the ceiling or at her desk clicking away at her laptop- doing nothing interesting what so ever. And the nights are spent sleepless, dark circles becoming more prominent as the silent crying pursues. The self-depreciating wishes and actions continue until Elphaba begins to think the unthinkable- the questioning of her existence. How would her father and sister function without her? Would the world be different if she suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth one?
Depression, Elphaba's "best friend" eventually lands her in the hospital, rendering her useless and helpless.
Elphaba hates hospitals. Why did this one have to save her? How is she worth saving? She stopped crying for help years ago, she's given up; she doesn't want to be saved. The dinner hall is filled with patients and their visiting families; hospital staff stand off to the sides of the room or are lined up for food. She drops her fork onto her plate, grimacing at the disgusting lunch she had been served- boiled potatoes and some weird meat burger that shouldn't even be touched with a ten foot pole.
Her father is sending Nessarose off with a relative so he can speak to Elphaba alone. She doesn't want to speak; talking about feelings had never been easy for the green skinned teenager, even when having to go to the school's counsellor. Actions speak louder than words. She pushes the plate away from her and slumps down into the hard plastic chair which has already made her bottom sore. Her arms are folded protectively across her chest; half of her face is buried against them so the tears that bubble in her eyes don't create puddles on the immaculately clean table.
She doesn't notice the chair opposite her scraping noisily against the floor that now seats another person. Elphaba doesn't bother to look up, she's scared to look at the stranger so her eyes stare at the table's surface- which is soon occupied with a bowl of apple pie and custard, Elphaba's favourite.
"Hey." The person greets softly.
"That's apple pie and custard." Elphaba mutters.
The person laughs lightly and proceeds to reply, "It's your favourite, right?"
Stunned, Elphaba nervously shifts her eyes up to meet a pair of baby blue ones that are painted on a rosy background with gold surrounding it. She doesn't glare but her eyebrows knit together in confusion, "How do you know that?"
"I'm an intern for your doctor, I'm helping his recent patients whom you are one of them, am I correct?"
"I've been here for six months; I'd hardly call myself a recent patient." Elphaba scoffs.
"I was told to help you out specifically." The person says, "I'm Glinda."
"The name's Elphaba; and I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help for what I want anyway but that doesn't matter, I don't matter." She mutters, "What are you doing here? Don't you have other patients to tend to?"
"I want to talk to you."
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm a waste of time and space, all I get is a pity party and I don't want yours."
"We don't have to talk about things you don't want to, it can anything, like the dessert for example."
"Oh really now?" Elphaba retorts.
Glinda smiles, "Yes, apple pie makes everything better!"
Elphaba raises an eyebrow in slight amusement, "You sure about that?"
"Of course I'm sure; apple pie doesn't have to go with custard. There's always the choice of ice cream as well, and it doesn't have to be vanilla either! Apple pie can go with any flavour of ice cream!"
"Oh my Oz…" Elphaba sighs.
Elphaba couldn't believe that someone in this damned building had the nerve to approach the most strange looking patient and strike up a conversation with them. Patronising? Probably, but it made Elphaba feel wanted for once in her life- the fact that someone had been inclined to talk to her as a human being and not a thing that's broken. Somehow, Glinda's approach makes Elphaba appreciative of the small talk- light hearted and carefree instead of delving further into the older teen's problems.
They continue to exchange words until Elphaba shuffles up her chair from a slump to hunching over her dessert, taking a bite of the apple pie and almost melting at the sweet flavour. Glinda grins and joins the green patient, eating her dessert and almost spitting it out with laughter as Elphaba begins to devour her food.
Elphaba almost slams her bowl down after drinking the last of the custard, grinning back at Glinda, "I haven't had food this good in months."
"Yeah, just try not to mention it to the staff."
And Elphaba laughs, a true and genuine laugh with her head thrown back.
Frex is steps from the hospital's dinner hall, worrying about both of his children- he knows Nessarose will be fine at least until tomorrow but Elphaba… Frex doesn't know how Elphaba is feeling, he's been unsure about it for years. And for the past six months, Frexspar Thropp is alarmed about his eldest child's wellbeing.
A loud and bellowing cackle erupts from within the dinner hall; Frex frowns at the familiarity of the laugh and quickens his pace to surprisingly halt in the vast room of patients and visitors. Frex almost breaks down on the spot, a sight he hasn't seen in years- a sight that both he and Nessarose had wanted to see again and his voice almost breaks at the fact his young daughter isn't here to see.
Elphaba is laughing. She's talking to someone without a weary expression; her tired face makes an effort to smile occasionally at the young intern that sits opposite her and she seems untroubled, lost in conversation. Lost in the care and kindness of the blonde girl. He takes note to talk to Elphaba's doctor; the intern is definitely someone special, they're bonding over apple pie and custard- Elphaba's favourite dessert- talking away to one another without having to feel anxious. It's the first time in years that Frex has seen his eldest genuinely happy.