Kirrily never really understood what was wrong with Glinda. When in front of people other than the palace workers, Glinda was always smiling and always bubbly and always perky. True, she showed much of this all the time. But there was something not quite right- some days she would be very sad, for no reason, and Shaila would be worried all day. When she was in front of some of the palace workers, the ones that she didn't know very well or hadn't really been working there very long, she was bright and bubbly, but at least she wasn't fake like in front of the citizens of Oz.
Like that was mentioned before, Glinda was sometimes very sad on some days for no reason apparent to Kirrily. Sometimes, when Kirrily was supposed to be asleep, she heard Glinda cry at night. She was very loud when she cried. Kirrily was always curious about this, yet she never really said anything to avoid utter embarrassment and awkward questions.
By the time Kirrily started Primary School, she could read, write, and count to 184. She was moved up to a higher grade, where she reached a point of academic success. The same could not be said for her social life. Kirrily had no friends, not even one. She never really thought she needed them, she had her books and her friends were all characters in the books. So what if the other children made fun of her? She could always hide in the bathroom and read. Her fictional friends would comfort her. Kirrily was almost immediately labeled an oddball in school, due to her knack for… well… learning. When she became impatient at the ignorance of her fellow pupils, she became very angry and it was rumored that sparks shot out of her hands when she was in a rage. There was one thing as well, one thing that the other children found especially strange: Kirrily's favorite color was green.
Such a thing probably doesn't seem important, but at this time in Oz it was. Green was, as everyone knew, the color that represented the Wicked Witch of the West. It was said that the Witch would have turned the Emerald City a different color, but wanted to keep it green because it was the same color of her skin. The people of Oz didn't want to change the color, for fear that she might come back someday and see the city a different color. There had been many discussions and debates on this topic, but Glinda had vetoed the repainting. But back to the story now.
Green was the color of the Wicked Witch, and most children were forbidden by their parents to wear it. Not only was it Kirrily's favorite color, but she wore it very often. It matched her eyes. All the children had muttered about how her eyes must've been the same color as the Witch's skin.

As the years went by, the other children had seemed to make a sport out of chasing Kirrily when the final bell rang for the day. Kirrily had always sprinted back to the palace, but somehow the others caught up with her.

That is, until the day she turned ten.

At school, no one paid any attention to whether it was Kirrily's birthday or not, so it was a fairly normal school day. In fact, everything was normal at school until they left for home. The schoolchildren streamed out of the front doors of the school, shouting insults at Kirrily as they did so. But one child's remark made her snap. The child's name was Dawn, and she seemed to be the leader of the Bully Kirrily Association. Kirrily was used to Dawn and friends insulting her, but never like this. What Dawn said insulted not only Kirrily, but Kirrily's family.

"Your mother," Dawn called, her voice rising over the crowd, "Is a blight on society! You don't even know where your father is! I bet your mother doesn't even know him! She just found work in the palace and is sucking up to Lady Glinda!"

Kirrily wheeled around, horrified. "SHAILA IS NOT MY MOTHER. I DON'T LIVE WITH MY MOTHER! I DON'T KNOW HER!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "MY. MOTHER. IS. DEAD."

And before she could stop herself, Kirrily was ranting, the words overlapping each other so nobody could tell what she was saying.

Kirrily didn't realize it at first, but the other children did. Kirrily's eyes were not the only things flashing. There was no doubt about it, sparks were shooting out of her small fingers, and at the point that Kirrily realized what was happening, it was too late. The flashes of light were growing stronger, and larger. Almost like lightning. One of these strands of light reached out and singed a hole in the sleeve of Dawns shirt. Dawn was not hurt, but she could make anyone believe anything. She started to wail. Kirrily, terrified of what she had done, who she'd become, sprinted away, tears streaming down her face.

When she arrived at the palace, she locked herself in her room and cried. I hurt her, Kirrily thought. I hurt Dawn. I'm no better than my father now.

Well then. I really need to change the description of this story, but I have zero ideas as to what to change it to. I will say (without spoiling anything) that the next two chapters or so will be about Kirrily, but something (not spoiling) will come up and the story will redirect to Glinda. Suggestions are more than welcome.

Also, I cleaned up some stuff in the first chapter because I really didn't like the interaction between Glinda and Shaila at first, it seemed awfully sappy. It's still kind of sappy, but I attempted to make it more causual.

Keep reading ;)