"I wanted something to remember her by. All that was left of her were those shoes- and now some wretched little farmgirl has walked off with them!"


They weren't, actually. The shoes weren't all that was left of her.

But of course you wouldn't know. You were the one who abandoned her.

I know, I shouldn't judge, I've never met you. Still, I find it hard to think any other way. Forgive me for saying it, but you left her confused and unhappy and broken. What kind of sister does that?

I'll try to explain without getting too snappy. You deserve an explanation, I suppose, and I'm the best one for it.

You wanted something to remember her by?

How about the ring, the little silver one with the amber-colored stone? It was her mother's, she told me. Your mother's too, I guess. She- Nessarose- wore it constantly, on a chain around her neck because it didn't properly fit any of her fingers.

She had a locket, too, a little gold one that she wore on a bracelet. I don't know whose picture was in it, but I know she kept it close. Something else. What of that?

And what about the little dark blue leather-bound journal she kept near her bed, and the pale pink flower she kept pressed in the pages? She dropped the thing once, that's how I know about the flower. I picked it up for her, and the flower fell out of the cover, so I picked that up too, and put it back, and handed her the journal. She just gave me this look- as if I'd picked up the book and read it, instead of just given it back to her, and then her face sort of collapsed, and she sighed, and tried to laugh, and said, "I guess I can't have any secrets here," and thanked me. I turned to leave, but I glanced back around. She'd put the journal down, and sunk her face into her hands, but just then she looked up and saw me watching her.

I left. I didn't think she wanted me to see her cry.

All I can do, I guess, is tell you that there were sides to Nessarose Thropp that few have ever seen. The Governor of Munchkinland, yes. But behind that, a young woman in love with someone who did not love her, and behind that, even, the girl who was upset, confused, scared, even, that her sister had left her without a second thought.

My poor, poor Nessa…

You wanted something to remember her by? Hmph.

The shoes weren't the only thing. Doubtless she had a strange childhood, motherless and crippled and, well, with you being as you were. And you missed a part of her life when you left her.

But for her sake- because you were her sister- I'll try to forgive you, Elphaba, and I think I can.

And-

Well…

You wanted something to remember her by?

Believe me, you're not the only one that loved her.


Everyone deserves someone who loves them, hmm? Review!

-Sandy