A different spin on Elphaba's feelings after she failed to assassinate Morrible in the book. It's my first bookverse and it is sort of AU, so bear with me here people. ChocolatStar made me realise the power of writing and she is the reason I'm writing this really, her and her wonderful advice ;) so this is for her.
Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked. Book, Musical nothing. Sigh.
Nothing. Dark wide expanses of nothing. It was an alien feeling, strange and surreal and not something she liked to experience. She had always been so in control. Of her life, her choices, her mind; but now that was just a distant memory. In those moments, in the aftermath, she was numb.
On impulse she began to dust, spreading the filth around and sometimes creating a sheen of heavy lung-clogging mist that seemed to follow her everywhere. Follow her like the thought of the first events of the day, and of where she should be at that precise moment.
Failure
Such a harsh word. She had always been such a high flyer at Shiz, clever, top of the class; it was all she had known. But she had failed. Failed Nessa, Shell…Her cause. She had taken the weight of all the Animals' troubles on her shoulders, vowing to make things better—to take out the one who made it worse. But she couldn't.
She had always insisted that she had no soul. But they were just words…At the time they were only words. Now she believed them and worse still, she felt them. Echo round and round inside her skull with the same determination she had once had to do what needed to be done.
But she couldn't. She couldn't physically open the door and go. Something in her mind was yelling at her, screaming that it wasn't what she needed to do; even though it was what she craved. It scared her. Suddenly she couldn't move—she couldn't breathe. The dust she had been removing suffocating her, swallowing her into a swirling pool of confused thoughts and memories.
Failure
Choking on her own fear and uncertainty. Legs failing her, she collapsed against the wall, breath ragged, pulse erratic. A wave of nausea swept over her, the mere thought processes in her head making her ill. Swiftly, she emptied the contents of her stomach on the floorboards beside her. Her arms clutched around her body, she prayed it would help, but the sick feeling haunted her still. Crawling slowly to bed, she closed her eyes and willed sleep to take her. Take her and the pain she was feeling. But sleep wouldn't come. So she succumbed to tears of burning fire. Burning away the word that covered every inch of her skin. The word that she had imprinted on her brain.
Failure
Any thoughts guys? Anything would be appreciated but I wrote this merely to vent/ help myself, so I understand if you don't review.
Kate x