Disclaimer: No, I don't own Wicked. Hi Gregory!
A/N: Hello it's me again. I still have drama going on but forget it. Hehehe. So this is part one of a trilogy I'm recreating. Now, as some of you know, I wrote my very first Wicked one shot ages ago, and today i was rereading it and thinking how terrible it was. So I decided to rewrite it, make it longer, clearer, and Gelphier. Hehe. I really hope you guys like this one, I'm proud of how this turned out. And now enjoy...
Glinda The Good sat stilly on the edge of her bed and let the tears flow down her cheeks. Her makeup had been smeared for hours, her dress wrinkled, and her eyes unable to see clearly. Her heart had been broken in two, one half belonging to the prince of her dreams, and the other half belonging to her best friend.
Of course, together, they made one heart whole. But it had not been Glinda's. Elphaba and Fiyero, the only people she could actually love and feel safe around, betrayed her. They ran off together, happy, in love, and forgetting that the blonde had ever existed. She was only there for support of everything that her true love and friend were against.
Thinking on her green friend instilled greater an ache of pain and regret than when she thought about the man of her dreams. The fact that they once despised each other seemed so far away to the blonde, even though it had only been a few weeks ago. But so much had happened between the two, Glinda was surprised how she went through it all smiling.
Of course Glinda had been emotionally destroyed when she found out about the two lovers. Betrayal was something that Glinda The Good had never expected in her life, seeing as she was the perfect girl of the perfect family in a perfect world.
Or at least, that's how she'd grown up to feel.
Glinda's head snapped up as she heard something hit into her wardrobe, which was across the room. She jumped for a moment, but decided to ignore it, finding it pointless to even bother with the little noises. The small woman held back a sob as she laid her head on the pillow inches away from her.
Glinda thought for a moment about Elphaba, popping out and saying something smart and sarcastic, rude and hating. But she knew Elphaba wouldn't appear. Her Elphie wasn't stupid enough to reveal herself in front of a betrayer.
Her Elphie?
Glinda didn't care where the word came from, because for some reason, it set right with her heart. The blonde was in no mood to question any emotions that came from inside her, even though most of them seemed to rip her slowly apart.
Glinda's hatred of herself couldn't have been stronger. She lied, told people to kill her Elphie, and worst, she told Morrible Elphaba's weakness.
Nessarose.
The blonde's heart twisted in away unknown when the name ran across her mind. She knew Nessa, The Wicked Witch of the East, was going to die. And it was all her fault. The tragically beautiful girl that looked up to her was going to die, and all because Glinda was to hurt to care about her consequences.
The Good Witch let tears slide down her cheek as she buried her head into her pillow. She was still in her dress, it settling perfectly with her shape on the bed. Her tears were non stopping, and the pain that filled her heart was becoming unbearable.
She suddenly heard the guards stomping outside, tapping on her door, and asking if she was asleep. The door started to creak open, and Glinda closed her wet eyes tightly. The room seemed warm, the air tense, and Glinda's breathing barely heard.
Even though the guard walked away quietly, and even though Glinda was still awake, her nightmare seemed it was never going to end.
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