~A/N~ Well I haven't updated in a while because school started and I've been busy. Please don't kill me ;-)
Now this is a depressing chapter . . . short and depressing. But I'm sorry to announce that this story will be ending soon . . . just so you know in advance.
The words on Elphaba's arm hadn't faded since they had been carved.
The Wicked Witch of The West.
The words that had caused Elphaba and her family so much pain.
She finally thought that she might have escaped the torturing that she had endured since the Wizard and Madame Morrible had ruled. Once again she was wrong to think that people could forget.
People don't know how to forgive.
It was the answer to why the rebellion was happening know. To why no one could forget the lies the Wizard had told them. To why Elphaba was who she was.
No one could forgive Glinda for forcing the Wizard to leave. No one could forgive Elphaba for defying the Wizard and in turn showing them the truth about him. Most of all, no one could ever forgive Elphaba for being green.
Her entire life Elphaba had been shunned. The only people go had been able to look past her skin were Galinda and Fiyero. Galinda; the girl who was more of a sister to the green girl them Nessarose had ever been. And Fiyero; the only person who loved her, truly loved her, and had never let her run away.
It had to stop. Elphaba had to stand up and fight, because she knew there would be less painful that way. There would still be pain, but less.
But what would be the world without pain?