I hate her. I hate her for her beauty and her friends and her clothes that I could never wear. I hate the way she looks, I hate the way her lips look full and lush and beautiful in the flickering light of the candle. I hate the way it makes her hair shine; if I could rip all that hair out of her smug little head I would do it in an instant. She makes me so angry I could cry, could scream, could beat her with my fists just to erase her beauty from my mind. She is sleeping there, teasing me with her perfection, I wish she was dead I wish she was ugly anything but this aching that comes from the way her shift is riding up her left thigh. She unhinges me with her unquenchable beauty which is made only worse by the ugly words that escape when she is near me. She hates me for my ugliness just as much as I hate her for her beauty. What am I to do now she wants to befriend me? The girl she should hate, the girl who cannot help but hate her. I wish I did not hate her but it is like a compulsion, something without which I would never be complete. I hate Galinda for one simple reason, because she's just to Ozdamned beautiful not to hate.
Elphaba Thropp put down her quill and closed the small, red, leather bound book she had taken to righting in. The anger she had been feeling lately towards Galinda lately was neither logical nor caused by the object of her animosity and it made Elphaba even angrier not to have a reason to be angry with her sleeping roommate. She huffed unconsciously and stuffed the book under the mattress of her bed back into the darkness where her thoughts could stay where they belonged. She snuffed out the slowly dripping candle, taking one last quick look at the painfully beautiful girl sleeping in the next bed over and pulling the covers of her own bed up to her chin and settling into her own uneasy dreams.
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When Elphaba woke it was to a frantic blur of blond and pink and muttered cursing about where that particular shade of lipstick could have possibly gone and how it was conceivably impossible that lipstick could grow lags and walk away. Elphaba grinned listening to the flustered blond franticly searching and slowly rose out of her comfortable haze of sleep, the grin quickly dropping from her face as she prepared to face another day at Shiz.
Sunlight was streaming through the windows, curtains thrown back to permit more light into the room. Elphaba rose from her comfortable mattress and grabbed her frock and jacket, hurrying into the small bathroom to put them on before Galinda noticed her and recruited her in the epic search that was going on outside. Elphaba slipped out of her gray nightclothes and hugged her arms loosely across her flat stomach and the unfeminine curves of her slender waist. Her hip bones stood in slight relief against the smooth plain of her green stomach and the line of her ribs was, just like everything else on her, made up of sharp angles and hard edges. Elphaba tugged her clothes around her quickly, buttoning the front of her plain gray-black shift and stepping out to face Galinda.
Galinda was perched precariously on the edge of a chair staring softly at her reflection as she applied the object of her frantic search to her pouting lips. Elphaba felt slightly relieved that her roommate had been successful in her search and a strange sort of satisfaction at having avoided being dragged into the whole dimwitted mess. Still, thought Elphaba with resignation, satisfaction could only distract you for so long when Galinda was in the room. Sooner or later Elphaba knew she would have to look at the girl, and when that happened she would once again fall into the anger that had become as familiar a friend as the little red notebook that lay in the shadows of her bed sheets.