A/N:Not my first story but definitely going to be my longest. :) This story is way different from what I'm used to and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Got the idea after watching a bunch of things actually. You'll see my borrowed bits of inspiration from Casper, Pushing Daises and hell there's even some Dead Like Me in here haha. Anyway, the idea has been floating around in my brain for about a year now and National Novel Writing Month popped along so I decided, "What the hell, why not?"
Mucho thanks to my awesome beta Alcandre for putting up with my myriad of mistakes and writing me the best story notes ever! Without her help I don't think my story would have seen daylight haha. So thank you, thank you, thank you!
Rating to change later. Expect updates frequently, and in the meantime, enjoy. :)
Not Completely, Altogether Here
Chapter 1 -Forgotten
Every summer my parents and I venture up to our cottage on the outskirts of the Great Gillikin Forest. Momsie and I sunbathe while Popsicle straps on some hideocious boots and tromps around the forest claiming that he's "getting in touch with nature."
I much prefer observing nature from the porch with a cool drink. He'll come back after a few hours with a sketch book full of animals he's spotted and stories of "survival." Momsie finds it adorable when in actuality it's frightfully embarrassing. He shows them to everyone!
I remember once, the summer before I came to Shiz, he came up behind me while I was sunbathing and stuck a rumpled sheet of paper in my sunlight. I removed my sunshades and looked up to find the most absurd looking drawing of a deer ever created. He corrected me later. It was actually a very large bird.
Popsicle is the worst artist in the world.
Not wanting to hurt his feelings I kept the drawing and told him he had to sign it if he wanted to be an official artist.
Oh he signed it all right.
To my darlingist daughter, the pink apple of my eye. I hope you hang this gorgeous drawing your very talented father has made especially for you in the most prime location of your new dormitory at Shiz. I am so very proud of you!
Love, hugs, kisses and whatever you kids write nowadays,
P.S. - If you're a boy and you're reading this you better turn tail and leave before I find out and come down there and-
He didn't get to finish the rest as by that point I'd snatched the drawing away. Popsicle can get a bit overprotective at times.
I smile as I reach over and touch the drawing. Momsie had it framed for me at one point but I took it from its frame and used some tape to hang it in the back of my wardrobe. Obviously the last place anyone would see it. But everyday as I shift through my clothes deciding that all the fashions don't suit my mood I read the letter again and stare at the misshapen blob my father calls a bird. In an odd way it makes me happy and homesick all at once.
Then I try to remember this past summer, a mere 12 days ago. I can't seem to remember anything at all. No sunbathing with Momsie. No hideocious boots on Popsicle. No horrendous drawings.
I don't remember how I spent my summer vacation and that thought alone worries me beyond anything. I've tried so hard to recall even the tiniest, smallest piece of those months but all I get is a massive headache and the worst case of nausea I've ever experienced. And that's including seeing Biq naked once. Let's just say someone had put a little something extra into the Oz Dust punch, combined with exhibitionist friends, equals most humiliating night of his height challenged life. It's really frustrating having that memory so vivid whilst ones I want nothing more than to relive seem so far away!
Sometimes I think if I go to bed early enough I'll dream about my lost memories. But most nights I don't dream... I don't even think I sleep much anymore. I watch the sunrise from my dorm window every morning and wonder if today will be different.
But it never is.
I walk to class and no one says anything to me. I'm wearing a last season coat in September and no one even notices! No snickering as I pass. No snide remarks about my bed hair. NOTHING!
I don't remember when everyone stopped noticing me, when I stopped being the center of attention. I don't remember the day Biq stopped holding doors open for me, or when Pfannee stopped needing my notes for Morrible's class. Hardly anyone knocks on my door anymore let alone smiles at me.
I haven't had a conversation with anyone in days. And that creepy old man by Suicide Canal does not count. That was more or less an exchange of insults. He was mean!
Thinking about him doesn't help my mood. For a while now I've felt utterly alone and depressed. No amount of shopping helps. I can't find my money purse anyway.
I think someone stole it.
I don't even care anymore! I am so past the point of caring it's scaring me a little. I never used to be so afraid. Oz, I was never afraid of anything! Then something happened and everything changed.
I...I don't remember what happened to change everything.
Trying to think about it makes me feel dizzy and I need to sit down. Looking around the quad I notice Biq sitting by himself, eating an apple. I look down at myself and try to smoother the wrinkles from my coat. They stay of course and I sigh letting the material relax against my body, the trim brushing just above my knee. I head over towards Biq. He looks like he hasn't been sleeping, too. Heavy ugly purplish bags sit under his eyes. He's a depressing sight indeed. But the comfort of familiarity is enough to have me greeting him as pleasantly as possible and then sitting as far as humanly possible from him on the small bench. I'm not too far-gone to realize the social implications of this encounter.
The bench creaks under my weight as I shift to face Biq slightly. Momsie always told me it was polite to fully engage others in conversation and sometimes the simplest way is to give the impression that you truly are paying attention. I usually did this with Biq when he would be telling me something ridiculous, like how my hair looks beautiful today or something equally nonsensical. As if it doesn't look beautiful everyday, thank you Biq. Meanwhile I'd really be trying to hear what that gorgeous Winkie Prince was talking with Avaric about behind me. But that was long ago. No more Winkie Princes, no more love struck Biq.
My life is an utter disaster. Might as well try and make nice with Biq since I can't seem to fall any lower.
"Um," I clear my throat, trying to think of something, anything to say. Biq moves his head slowly, gaze resting on my lap. "Good apple?" Oz, someone kill me now and put me out of my horrendifying nightmare. I have lost all social graces!
Biq, thank his soul, doesn't bother to respond to my idiotic question. He simply sighs after a while, tosses his apple core to the grass behind him and leaves the quad entirely.
If this same scenario hadn't happened dozens of other times I would have been surprised. But it has and so all I can do as I watch Biq's retreating slumped form is sigh myself. I look down to my hands. Freshly painted pink nails shine up at me. Why do I have this sudden feeling that even my nails are laughing at me? I look up at all the other people milling about the quad. Are they laughing at my failure too?
They don't even notice me.
I spend my afternoon in classes. I always sit in the back nowadays.
I go to lunch and just sit and watch Pfannee, Milla and Shenshen laugh about something or other. I pick up on bits and pieces of their conversation. Something about green people. Maybe they've just gone completely crazy without me there to keep them sane because talking about green people sounds like an absurd waste of time. A part of me is jealous as their laughter grows louder but the bigger part doesn't care. It's been so long since I've talked to any of them it doesn't really matter anymore. I don't even bother grabbing a tray of food; I'm not hungry today.
Their laughter lowers as a girl in a wheelchair enters. She looks way too poised and stiff as she maneuvers over to the tea trays. Must be a new student. Once she's passed my ex-friends start whispering and pointing. Shenshen can't keep her eyes off the girl in the wheelchair. She was never very good at being discrete. Pfannee kicks her from under the table and Shenshen lets out a very loud groan in response.
The dinning hall falls silent, as does the color on Shenshen's cheeks.
"Sorry," She squeaks, giving a small apologetic wave of her hand. Pfannee looks as if she's about to strangle Shenshen if she says another word whilst Milla hides her face in shame. "Really hot tea today." Shenshen laughs.
It takes a moment before the noise level returns to normal. Pfannee is still glaring at Shenshen; her lips have practically disappeared in her scowl. Shenshen shrugs meekly.
No one bothers to sit with me for the rest of dinner.
Heading back to my dorm I play with the small key in my pocket. A girl passing me in the hall looks at me with a funny expression planted on her face. I give her an equally ridiculous expression back. First person to notice me in weeks and all I get is that? No thank you!
I bring my key from my pocket and go to open my door.
But muffled voices carry from inside my room to my ears and I am stilled. What's going on? Why are there people in my room? My hands start shaking from fear, and then from anger. The voices are distinctly feminine and they are arguing. I press my ear to the door to hear them better.
"…two years behind everyone else just because you were too afraid to leave Father's side!" One is shouting, the voice sounds gruff.
"I couldn't just leave him, Elphaba!" The other sounds very shrill. "So what if we had to postpone Shiz! We're here now and this dormitory is awful! We should have just taken up Madame Morrible's offer to stay in her private rooms!"
"I'm not staying with that woman! She's vile!"
"This room is vile!"
My room is not vile!
I've heard enough!
I'm in motion in an instant. Key is forced into the door, unlocked, and then thrown open in hopes of scaring off the two girls inside.
I'm about to open my mouth to give them a piece of my mind when I notice a couple things all at once.
One being that the wheelchair girl is starring at me in horror. Yay for me!
Two, that the other girl is green. GREEN.
But I'm not so concerned with all of that because number three is by far the most inexcusable thing to ever happen to me.
All my stuff has been replaced with gaudy grey university stock furniture!
I can't help the horrifying scream that escapes me.