"Don't worry… you already have."

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Chapter Thirty-Seven: Of Thoughts and True Feelings

Elphaba sat on the cliff's edge above Suicide Canal. Her legs dangled in the air and she knew, that at any moment, the dirt she was sitting on could crumble away and send her tumbling to her death in the watery grave below.

She didn't really care.

She knew now that she would never be able to walk herself in to the river below. She knew now that wishing to jump in to the deadly water was not a rational thought, was not reality. She knew, deep down, that her ability to judge reality had been shattered by her own emotional torment and mental anguish. Elphaba Thropp knew that her perception of reality was abnormal, shattered, skewed. She knew that if she did ever walk herself in to the river, or drink too much alcohol, or hang herself from the ceiling, or delve in to her wrists a little too deep, that there would be a list of people who would be devastated. A small list perhaps, but people just the same. She wondered where her reality had gone. Where had her ability to judge reality gone? It no longer exited.

It was a terrifying place.

She was going through life now as if she wasn't herself. It seemed like she was watching her life as if she was watching a play of some sort; as if it wasn't really happening to her. She could see when her actions and her thoughts were incorrect. She could tell when her rationalizations were becoming farther and farther removed from reality.

But she could do nothing to stop it.

Elphaba hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees, and watched the river swirling below. She felt guilty. But then, she found herself always feeling guilty. If something had ever gone wrong at home, if her father was mad or Nessa was upset, it was her fault. She should've washed the dishes faster – despite how much the water burned her – she should've sung to Nessa for longer – despite how tired she was. She couldn't tell if her guilt had been something she created herself or something her father had beat in to her.

Now she felt guilty for her fight with Galinda. She felt… no… she knew it was her fault. She had been the one to fall for Fiyero. She had been the one to open her big mouth. It was her fault, not Galinda's. She was in the wrong, not Galinda.

She hated Nessa right now; she hated Galinda right now. She hated them both for abandoning her and leaving her to her own tormented mind. But she knew it wasn't really hate she was feeling… it was anger. And it wasn't really Nessa or Galinda she was made at. It was displaced anger… anger that was really directed at herself. And, in truth, it wasn't anger at all. It was guilt. She should've known what her mistakes would've done to them. She should've known that aborting her pregnancy would push Nessa away. She should've known that her love for Fiyero was wrong and would push Galinda away. She should've known what her mistakes would do and she should've been able to avoid them… fix the problems before they even started.

Yet some part of her brain, a small logical part that still remained, was telling her that it wasn't her fault. They were all young adults, they were her family and friends. They should be able to forgive her of her mistakes and let them all get on with life. Her logical mind was trying to tell her that this wasn't really her fault at all.

"So why do I feel so damn guilty and angry about it all?" she whispered to the wind.

Suddenly she was on her hands and knees. Her small, pitiful breakfast that she had managed to eat was now being carried away by the raging river below her. Her body was shaking again and she was becoming seriously worried that something was terribly wrong with her health. She could not remember ever taking any sort of drugs or poisons since the pennyroyal but that did not mean she hadn't. Fiyero had asked her if she was positive she was in control of her pain enough to not take any drugs and she hadn't been able to provide a true answer.

She no longer could be sure if she really was in as much control of her emotional pain as she liked to think she was. She was beginning to doubt whether she remembered everything she had done in the past few weeks and that thought frightened her. A lot.

The whole idea of death had never seemed so intimidating to Elphaba. That is, until now, when she feared that her death was staring her straight in the eyes.

She stayed on her hands and knees, dry heaving, for more time then she cared to count. Eventually her body deemed that it had expelled all of the food it could and began to settle itself down.

Elphaba still shook.

"Miss Elphaba?" a voice quietly spoke up from behind the green girl.

The green girl wiped her mouth, stood up, and turned around the face the strange voice. "Oh, it's just you Boq," she whispered as she laid eyes on the Munchkin.

"Miss Nessarose asked me to give this to you," the shy boy said with a small smile as he held out a present towards the green girl. "She misses you more than she would like to say."

Elphaba frowned as she took the present and let out a deep breath as she felt her anger, grief, and guilt beginning to subside.

"Happy birthday Miss Elphaba," Boq said with a smile and a bow before turning around and disappearing.

"Birthday?" Elphaba muttered quietly. "It's my birthday?"