A/N: Sorry I left this story so long…I will now proceed to proceed. Okay. Yeah. Oh, also, I'm going to be changing my penname to elphabathedelirious32, and if that's taken or whatever, fabalafae32. So, check under those…or you could just search the story title…yeah…

Disclaimer: It isn't mine. And some of this is taken right out of the play.

I close my eyes and fall back against a tree. No. Nonononononono. My head is spinning as fast as that cyclone I saw in my head. But then, I hear a bubbly voice saying my sister's name, and it jolts me back to reality, which is a nice name for the cold hard place where my family is dead and it's all my fault. Or maybe not quite. A cyclone? I think…Cyclones don't just…appear, do they? Madame Morrible must have done this. It's not cyclone season…But still, if I hadn't been so wrapped up in Fiyero, in my own happiness, maybe the vision would have come sooner. I could have been here in time. I could have…yeah, Elphaba, you could have not been born. You could have not been green. But that's not your fault. That's your parents' damn fault. It's their genes. It's them who decided to have a kid. And you know what, Father? I scream mentally, I didn't make Mother chew milkflowers! That was YOU! Maybe if you weren't so damn obsessed with appearances our freaking family would still exist! IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I think, and I find myself yelling it.

"It's not my fault! It's not! It's yours, Father! Are you the hell happy now? Precious little Nessa is dead! You're dead! You're all dead! And you're never coming back! It's just me now, do you hear? It's just Elphaba!"

Glinda turns from where she stands, by my sister's makeshift memorial.

"Who's there?" she calls fearfully. "There's tigers and lions and bears in that forest," she says to herself quietly.

"And witches," I answer loudly, stepping out.

Glinda trips over her own fanciful shoes and falls in a glittery heap.

"Elphie!" she says.

"What a touching display of grief," I respond, suddenly bitter.

"I don't think we have anything further to say to one another," says Glinda sniffily, turning up her nose at me like I'm a overcooked turnip. Damn it, she just makes me mad. She thinks she's so entitled. Well, shouldn't I be entitled to something? Just one thing? Just once in my life? And all of a sudden I'm mad again, over Nessa's stupid shoes that I now realize Glinda must have given to the girl in the woods. Damn it. I raise my eyes to the sky. You can't even give me something in death, can you, Father?

"I wanted something to remember her by, and all that was left were those shoes, and now that wretched little farm girl has walked off with them." I don't know where this is coming from. I can hear myself, I'm so angry I make myself want to scream. But Glinda shows no reaction. "So I'd appreciate some time, alone, with my sister," I finally say. Glinda moves away respectfully, I'll give her that. I walk up to the house and sink to my knees, my black skirts unfolding around me like flower petals.

"Nessa, please, please forgive me," I murmur, begging her, begging my father and my mother and anyone I've ever cared about because surely I've done something bad, or not done something good, to everyone?

I can feel Glinda's presence at my back.

"What?" I ask coldly. She lays her cool, lily-white hand on my shoulder, where it contrasts with the black fabric of my gown and the green of my neck. I feel a sudden rise of angry jealousy in my throat, and work like mad to shove it back down.

"Elphie," says Glinda cautiously, "You mustn't blame yourself. It's dreadful, it is, to have a house fall on you, but accidents will happen."

Suddenly, the way that sounds, it makes me certain.

"You call this an accident?" I say sarcastically, rising to my full height and laughing almost insanely. I'm scaring myself. I should go crawl in a hole until I can breathe normally again.

"Yes!" insists Glinda. But then, she thinks better of it. "Well, maybe not an accident…"

"What do you call it then?" I ask harshly. Is she in on this with that…that…viper? No. No, she can't be, not even after what I suppose I've done to her would Glinda sink that low. She can't sink, for goodness' sake, she floats in a bubble!

"A regime change," says Glinda after a moment. "Caused by a bizarre and unexpected twister of fate." She giggles. I want to hit her.

"You think cyclones just appear out of the blue?" I press.

"I don't know, Elphie! I never really…"

"No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!" I cry angrily, surprised at the vehemence I keep finding in myself.

"I'm a public figure now!" she protests. "People expect me to…"

"Lie?" I supply.

"Be encouraging!" she refutes weakly. "And what exactly have you been doing, besides riding around on that filthy old thing?" she asks me hotly, gesturing toward my broom. I forgot I was even carrying the thing.

"Well, we can't all come and go by bubble!" I shoot back. "Whose invention was that, the Wizard's? Of course, even if it wasn't, he'd probably still take credit for it."

What would you ask him for, Elphaba, if you could ask anything?

"Yes, well," says Glinda. "A lot of us are taking things that don't belong to us, aren't we?"

That raises every hackle I have. For one, damn it, Fiyero is not a thing. People are not things. Animals are not things, either.

"Now wait just a clock tick," I protest. "I know it may be difficult for that blissful, blonde, 'brain' of yours to comprehend that someone like him could love someone like me, but it's happened, it's real!" I don't realize how loud my voice has gotten at first. I don't know where this boiling hatred is coming from. I don't hate Glinda. What is wrong with me? But the stranger controlling my mouth keeps going, stealing my thoughts and spinning them into words. "And you can wave that ridiculous wand all you want, you can't change it! He never belonged to you, he doesn't love you, and he never did! He loves me!" I don't know how or why, but he does!

All of a sudden, there's a stinging pain flying across my face. My hand goes to my cheek. Stunned, I drop to my knees. She slapped me. Suddenly, this whole scene is just ridiculous. I try to laugh normally, but it comes out as a cackle, which just makes me cackle even harder. When I can manage to speak, I stand.

"Feel better?" I ask Glinda.

"Yes," she huffs.

"Good, cause so do I!" I scream, slapping her back. Then, we both go insane. Glinda whirls her wand at me, and I my broom. We fence for a moment before dropping our respective accoutrements on the ground and really going at it. Glinda is grabbing my clothes and scratching at my face, and dear God, is she trying to bite me? But I am just as bad, I've lost control of myself and I'm screaming and slapping and scratching and, oh, Lord, fighting like a girl! I know better than this! But the truth is, I don't want to hurt Glinda. I just really want to slap her again-

-And there's guards, Gale Forcers, in their uniforms like Fiyero's, grabbing my arms and pulling me back and I'm kicking and screaming and yanking but it does no good, there's too many of them.

"Let me go!" I scream.

"Let me go, I almost had her!" screams Glinda, and I realize a phalanx of guards has surrounded her, "protecting" her from me. Please.

But then one of them says, "Sorry it took us so long to get here, Miss," to Glinda, and then it hits me and I wish I had hurt her worse.

"I cannot believe you would sink this low! To use- no, to cause- my sister's death as a trap to capture me? Murderer!" I shriek, and I start fighting like a wildcat again because I swear if I got my hands on her I would tear her apart.

"I never meant for this to happen, Elphie! I'm so sorry!" Glinda cries, and I realize she's sobbing. But then, suddenly, Fiyero is flying through the air above us on a vine.

"Let the green girl go!" he yells.

Remind me to kick him later for calling me that. Honestly. El-pha-ba. Three syllables. Is it really that hard?