The following is based on these Wicked quotes, to answer some questions:

“no, no, I’m not a harem, I’m not a woman, I’m not a person, no.”

“You think all this is new to me,” she said, sighing. “You think I am such a virgin.”

“You didn’t bleed the first time,” he observed. “So what’s to think about.”

“There was an odd shadow near the groin-for a sleepy moment he wondered if some of his blue diamonds had, in the heat of sex, been steamed onto her own skin-or was it a scar?”

“You are not a person.”

The words were spat at her. Yet his tone was flat and devoid of emotion. There was no undercurrent of feelings, no strong desire to wound. He just believed them to be truth. Yet she could not stop herself from hating him in return.

Elphaba knelt, her knees bleeding from crawling across the uneven stone floor. She adjusted her gloves, pulling them over her elbows before she plunged her hand into a cold bucket of dirty water. Ever so carefully, she squeezed out the excess and worked the worn and frayed cloth over the floor, being very careful to clean the dust from between the stones. She had made the mistake of missing that only once.

His echoing footsteps announced his return, dressed in an overcoat and carrying an umbrella. “You are not person,” He reiterated, “Therefore you do not need new clothes. Do not ask me again. Should your things wear out, you can clean the floors naked. It would probably help you to work faster,”

He gave no indication of noticing her horrified expression.

“I trust I won’t have to worry about you wandering tonight,” He smirked as fat, wet raindrops began to pelt the windows. With a chuckle to himself, he strode out the door, disappearing in a clamor of wood against stone.

The rain began to pound, sounding much like steel, like thousands of locks holding her in, nearly suffocating her. He was right, there would be no wandering tonight. This was her prison.