Since I have a tendency to write random Wicked drabbles, I figured it best I had somewhere to put them. And right here looked very nice.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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My meaningless existence has always been torture. Every day for five years spent holed up in some forgotten, earthbound hell, trying to fool myself into thinking that I hadn't already read my one grubby book nearly fifty times, or that I was actually somewhere vaguely interesting. Apart from my occasional relocation to a different hideyhole in the middle of the night, I was locked inside some filthy apartment, hoping that the next time I saw sunlight I'd be a different, less noticeable, color. Then I could wander to my heart's content without wearing dark covering over every inch of my skin. I could show people more than just my eyes without fear of recognition. But even those idle dreams couldn't keep me sufficiently occupied, and I always found myself watching the people outside my window. I always kept my hood up, of course, and was constantly terrified that the cry, "It's the Wicked Witch!" would go up, but with each passing day, my apathy grew.

I was contemplating a knife and how nice it would look jabbed into me, and I kept thinking to myself that while I was at it, I could do a little exploratory surgery to find the alleged, shriveled raisin of my heart when I heard a commotion outside my one, self-installed window. Or rather, self-poked hole in the wall. I sighed at my knife and laid it down to see who was being stoned in the public square this time. To my surprise, people were gathering around a small platform without a single torture device or angry mob in sight. Instead, a petite figure clad in pink was clambering onto the platform. I spotted a silver tiara atop her head and the golden curls that dangled below it.

The realization of who this woman was hit me, but it was half-hearted, like a slap from a lump of spaghetti. The fact that I was looking at my best friend from my distant college days impacted me no more than the realization that I needed to buy some more fruit to prevent my oncoming scurvy.

I watched as she delivered a speech with all of the bubbliness that she had always possessed. The hole I was watching through seemed to be a portal into the past; she had not changed in the slightest.

When she had finished her speech, she left, none the wiser that her green-skinned ex-roommate was only a few feet away. I waited until her glittering form had completely disappeared before I curled up catlike to take a nap and do my best to dream away the one-sided encounter.