This just a quick one-shot I wrote to get out of my system. I hope you like it...but how will I know unless you press the REVIEW button? I'll just fall into a deep swirling spiral of depression because I know I'm a failure at writing fanfiction because no one reviewed! If you want to see Mindy happy, press the little button! Pleasies?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Wicked, or Elphaba, or The Wicked Witch of the West, or any other names she goes by.

READERS OF JUST FOR THIS MOMENT: I COMPLETELY INTEND ON UPDATING SOON, BUT I SEEM TO BE TRAPPED IN THE WRITERS BLOCK WORLD! ONLY YOU CAN HELP ME BY REVIEWING!

*Note* I have only read through this once so if there are any grammatical errors, feel free to tell me. But don't forget to tell me what you thought either!


My Name Is Elphaba...

My name is Elphaba. Elphaba Melena Thropp…or should I say, my name was Elphaba. There are times I wonder whether or not I actually ever had a name.

On the day I was born, I was referred to as "it". During my mother's pregnancy my parents decided to choose a name once they saw their precious new born to see what name was fitting. I was not given a name the day I was born, my mother and father did not hold me in their arms and smile at each other, declaring that they would call me "Elphaba". They waited for a full week, almost as if they were waiting to see if I would die so they wouldn't have to give me a name. When it became apparent I wasn't going away, my father walked into the lounge where my mother was knitting and said "Well…I suppose it's time to give it a name." My mother simply nodded and named me the first name that she pointed to in her baby name book. That is the reason I am called "Elphaba".

As a young child, my father got my attention by saying "hey you!" but never by my name. At age three I walked over to my mother and tugged on her dress.

"Mama…what is my name?" I asked her with wide eyes. She smiled slightly down at me and said "Elphaba my dear, your name is Elphaba." My eyebrows furrowed as I tried it out. "El…phaba."

On the first day at school, my father reluctantly dropped me off, I know now that he didn't want me to attend school at all. For the first two years of my baby sister's life, I realized that he called her either "Nessarose" or "Nessa" but still simply referred to me as "you".

When the teacher called out "Elphaba Thropp" during attendance, I shot my arm proudly into the air, only to hear snickers and whispers. I looked around the room of my peers and noticed all eyes on me. I put my arm down slowly and looked at a boy sitting next to me.

"Excuse me? Why are they laughing?" I asked politely. He pointed a finger at me and laughed heartily.

"You're green! Greenie!" He said. I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"No my name is Elphaba!" I told him, offended that he couldn't get my name right. The rest of the class began chanting "Greenie! Greenie! Greenie!"

"My name is ELPHABA!" I tried to shout over the class. The teacher then took the time to settle down the class, but I swear I heard a small chuckle escape her lips.

That was the day I started to build up my defensive wall against the citizens of Oz.

Throughout my school years and my college years at Shiz, I was known by several names. Artichoke, Green Bean, Greenie, Green Freak…each one less creative then the next. I suspected that half of the student population never learned my name; I was simply the "green girl". There were times when I lay awake in my dorm room, unable to sleep, and I would ponder the reason why nobody knew my name. There were times I wandered if I even had a true name, my mother had called me Elphaba…was it yet another title that was given to me? To family I was one name; to the rest of Oz I was another. Which is the one to live by?

Then came the day my name vanished from existence. The moment the words 'wicked witch' slipped through Madame Morrible's thin lips, I was branded for life. The name "Elphaba Thropp" no longer existed as far as Oz was concerened. Not that it ever did really. I had a title, a label, and everyone in Oz would know me by it; The Wicked Witch of the West. When I'm dead, nobody will remember me as Elphaba Thropp, they won't even remember me as the green girl they went to school with, I would forever be The Wicked Witch of the West.

What is a name? Is it the word that was written on your birth certificate? Is it the word you respond to when someone calls it? Is it simply what everyone knows you by? My name is Elphaba Thropp…or is it? I can't be sure anymore. I'm not sure I ever truly had a name. Perhaps the wicked don't deserve names.


Hey! What is this button over here? *examines button* Maybe if you press it something WONDERFUL will happen! It's worth a shot! Press the button! I dare you!

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