Changed For The Better?

by westernskies

On the 6 Year anniversary of Elphaba Thropp's aka The Wicked Witch of The West 'demise' everyone through all of Oz celebrates, but one, Glinda The Good, Mourns and Remembers The Wicked, otherwise known as her friend. May continue if so inclined. Please read and constructive criticism please. (Gelphie, as most of my fic's will be. Glinda x Elphaba)

I

Changed For The Better?

I think back on those years and wonder, have I been changed for the better? I know many Ozians believe this. My officials tell me how all of Oz has agreed that I am the epitome of Goodness through, and through. But, as I sit on what was once the Wizard's throne, how can this be such a thing?

Thinking back on my own actions, I wonder if anyone even remembers what I had been like at Shiz? That Glinda The Good had been vain, naive and ..well, as my former room-mate and once known Wicked Witch of the West ( where in the blazes had the West come from? Elphie's own declarationism, of looking to the western skies for her?) had called me blonde. She meant as in calling shallow, I know that now even if it is the color of my hair.

6 years since her demise. 6 Years of leaving me with nothing but a hat, and a book I still cannot decipher no matter how hard I try. 6 years with Chistery and flying Monkey's as loyal and close centuries. Only Chistery is able to speak, but we keep that a close secret. They do fly about Oz, as the Wizard intended, and do look for resistance but it is not from the Animals or animals. It is from people who look to harm them, people who look for another Regime change as I have striven to to fight for peace and all things Good. It amazes me that there are those who do not want it. That think I am the betrayer.

It almost makes me laugh if it wasn't, to an extent true. I was a betrayer, I betrayed Elphaba by giving Morrible her weakness in Nessa. It was I who was the catalyst for a twister even if Morrible conjured the storm and brought Dorothy, as no one in all of Oz had been able to destroy the Witch. A human child and a bucket of water. A crack of lightening as my mood changes and I have come to realize that I too, can control the weather. But for now, I let it rain. Let it rain on their parade for a change, it never hurt anyone. Not anymore.

They've said no one mourns the wicked. But I do, I mourn her more than anyone in Oz would. I know that because everyone in Oz is celebrating. She forgave me in the end, that's really what matters but forgiving myself is what is near impossible.