Unadulterated Loathing
Elphaba,
I am writing to you from Quadling Country (the Ovvels, to be exact). I received your letter regarding the unfortunate situation that you have found yourself in and the blonde roommate that you have been assigned to. Thank the Unnamed God and the heavens that they were able to find a place to hide you. I still don’t see exactly why the Head wants you in attendance, with this being Nessarose’s first year—if only you didn’t accompany us to Shiz like she requested.
However, it is your great-grandfather’s wish that you attend as well, which is the only reason that I am permitting Madame Morrbile’s request. A pagan woman, she is, or so I hear. A sorceress and supporter of tiktokism with that tiktok thing that was by her side during your sweet sister’s move in. Does she always employ the use of such contraptions? A scary place that Oz is becoming.
I do hope that you are being kind to Miss Upland, her heart big enough to allow you a place to reside during your unexpected stay at Shiz. In regards to your request that you move in with sweet Nessarose, both she and the Head think that things are better the way that they currently are. Nessa and Nanny need their own space, anyways, and Madame Morrible believes that it will do the both of you some good to be apart. You know how badly Nessarose wished to start a new life for herself, but as always, you have to use that curse within you for the attention you so badly want to steal from her.
Speaking of Nessa, she writes that she is quite fond of your roommate. Her account contradicts yours greatly. Miss Galinda sounds like an extremely lovely girl, full of the goodwill of the Unnamed God. If only you could be more like her and your sister, Elphaba.
I do hope that you are following through with my request of keeping an eye on her, the sweet Nessarose. Don’t bombard her, but watch over her. Be a good sister and protect her from the ways of the world. It is a dark place, full of heathens and the occult, of tiktokism. She is a fragile thing, you know this. Nanny is growing old, she and the staff that your grandfather Peerless, the Eminent Thropp, hired to take care of Nessarose will need your help, so I hope that you will step up and do some good. That is your sole purpose in this life.
As I said, I have relocated back to Quadling. I hope to do some good here myself while you girls are away at school. Oz is changing, like I always say, and the darkness continues to envelop the light of the Unnamed God. Sinners walk among us, and I fear for the purity of the peoples. It is my utmost responsibility to do what I can to help the greater nation and I intend to do so.
Perhaps, some time at Shiz will in fact do you some good. If you can master that darkness within you, maybe you will finally be able to see things the way that your sister and I do: through the righteousness and virtue of the Unnamed God.
Together, Fabala, maybe we can all work together to outshine the work of the devil, like dear old Turtle Heart wanted us to do. In the name of your mother, my dear Melena.
Be good to your roommate and look out for your sister and Nanny. Be wary of that Madame Morrible character, she reminded me of a fish. She is not to be trusted, I believe. Perhaps, she is an agent of the devil trying to call you to her home so that they can finally claim you. Do not let my hardwork to fix you be undone.
Your father,
Frexspar Thropp, the Godly
Elphaba folded the piece of parchment paper in half, lightly sighing as she finished reading the letter from her father. She set it down on her lap, and she leaned against a tree on the early autumn day, a light breeze rustling the leaves overhead. Her father’s words hung in the air as she thought to herself quietly, enjoying the sunlight on her green skin. She took a deep breath in, as if meditating as she thought in solace.
Her dear father was always a strange man in her eyes, even when she was a child. He was devoted to, in love with, and maybe even consumed by the Unnamed God, the all-powerful being that he held an almost obsession for. Unionism was not particularly a bad thing in the eyes of Elphaba, as she had discussed with her roomie the night prior, but patriotic unionism was. Neglecting the real happenings of Oz, like the Animal suffrage, was a sore point for her. She couldn’t understand how her father and his followers could remain ignorant, sheltering themselves in the sanctity of their devout faith.
Elphaba always knew that to her father, the Unnamed God came first and foremost. Then, it was family. They came second to him—as if his love and attention was a pedestal of hierarchy.
She never had a good relationship with Frexspar because of his religious ways and bizarre fanaticism, but she did have a sort of connection to her younger sister, Nessarose. However, Frex’s influence managed to reach Nessie, who became a devout Unionist like himself, creating a perfect mirror image of his own beliefs.
Nessa was the second child and she had skin that was a perfectly acceptable color. She wasn’t green. Therefore, she was worthy of Frexspar’s time in a way that Elphaba never seemed to be. She was green-skinned and Frex constantly reminded her that she was different.
He even, at one point, believed his own daughter to be the devil’s spawn, but that is a different story entirely. However, because of the possibility that so often loomed in the back of his head, he tried his hardest to make Elphaba see things his way.
He raised her to become a missionary as a small child during their time in Quadling Country while Nessarose on the other hand, didn’t have to do anything. She was born with her own impediment and confined to a wheelchair from the very moment that she was able to move and think. Though, it seemed to Elphaba, that Nessa was never able to do either of those two things on her own. She was spoiled by their father who tended to her every need alongside Nanny and Elphaba herself. Nessa always acted as though she wanted independence, but Elphaba always knew that she relished in the lifestyle that she was provided with. What she wanted, Elphaba thought, was free will that Frex did not provide her with. Shiz was a perfect escape from her doting father’s grasp. She was already too far gone, nevertheless, too brainwashed by the church.
It was perhaps her time as a child laborer of the Unionist church that made Elphaba see things the way that she did. The religion and its practices often felt like chains binding Elphaba to something that she didn’t want. She had led a difficult childhood in both Quadling COuntry and Munchkinland, not fitting in because of the way she looked, and she saw firsthand the contrast between the church’s teachings and the reality of the rest of the world.
Elphaba Thropp was a through and through atheist from her adolescence onward, never using the Unionist way to try and forget the happenings around her as her father and sister did—like so many Ozians seemed to do too, she thought, recalling her conversation with Galinda.
Elphaba’s power—whatever it was—made Frex fearful of her from the moment she was born and furthered his belief of her being the devil reincarnated, rising up from Hell to get back at him for his worship of the Unnamed God. He always called it a ‘curse’ or the ‘curse within’ Elphaba, hailing it as demonic.
Nothing or no one should wield power like that. Sorcery was witchcraft and therefore, the devil’s attempt to dethrone the Unnamed God.
But, Elphaba so often thought, if something is all good, then it cannot be all powerful. And if it is all powerful, then the Unnamed God cannot be all good. Not only that, but if the Unnamed God, if he is as powerful as the preachers like her father protest, then he, she, or it should not fear the potential of an individual who opposes his power or questions his existence. It was a fundamental contradiction that gnawed at Elphaba’s mind: a being who created the glorious land of Oz and reigned over its citizens was still fearful of what they could do, even within the context that he himself created.
None of it made sense to Elphaba who faced harsh words from her father just because she asked him the questions that he didn’t have the answer to.
When Nessarose was finally accepted into Shiz University, Elphaba, who did not pursue a higher education because of her devotion to Nessie and her father’s own expectations, accompanied her younger sister on her voyage to her orientation. When things did not go according to plan and the head of students affairs, Miss Coddle, began pushing Nessarose’s chair without her permission and was even told to stop, Elphaba’s power consumed her as it had several times before.
Everything around her froze before being flung around, across the courtyard and into the air. Poor Nessa, in her wheelchair, was raised into the clouds before Elphaba pulled her safely back into her grasp. This all caught the eye of the former dean of sorcery and new Headmistress of Shiz Hall, Madame Morrible who approached Elphaba and offered her a place in her seminar.
The viridescent girl tried explaining to the Head that she was not a student and only at Shiz to help her sister move in, but Madame Morrible refused to hear her out. She proclaimed that Elphaba was the most talented girl she had ever come across and demanded that she stay at Shiz. Morrible promised to help Elphaba control her power that was untamed due to her lack of training.
‘Many years I have waited, for a gift like yours to appear,’ were the words that Morrible used to make Elphaba truly reconsider her situation.
Her whole life, Elphaba felt that her unexplainable powers were a burden, or a ‘curse,’ like her father always reminded her. It was ingrained in her that she was different. And because she was different, she was bad. Yet, here she was, with this fish-like woman she only just met, offering to give her the help she sought. She even referred to her abilities as a ‘gift.’
Years of being ostracized and misunderstood by those around her made Elphaba agree to Madame Morrible’s terms, prompting the Head to speak to Frex and then write to Elphaba’s great-grandfather, the Governor of Munchkinland to permit her stay at the University.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Elphaba finally felt that she could use her curse—no, gift—to do good. She could help those in situations similar to her own. She could even work with the Wizard of Oz himself, as Madame Morrible said. Things were looking up for Elphaba who finally felt that maybe she could be accepted by others. If she did good, they would love her. She would help them.
One day, Elphaba swore, there would be a celebration throughout Oz all to do with her. She would do great things, but on her own accord. She wouldn’t work in tandem with her father and his zealous ways, rather, she’d be working with the Wizard to help all of Oz and each one of its citizens.
Elphaba would learn that she couldn’t stay with Nessa who had been provided with a private suite because of her ailments, living in the Pink Dormitory with Nanny who would continue on as her live-in maid. With all housing full as the school year was already set to begin, Madame Morrible promised to pull a few strings to help her new pupil in her highly prestigious seminar in which Elphaba would be the only student.
‘You can room with Miss Galinda,’ said Madame Morrible in her soft voice as they entered the suite of Miss Galinda Upland, a Gillikinese aristocrat of the Upper Uplands. Galinda was evidently displeased when Morrible and Elphaba entered her private room without permission, but as Headmistress of Crage Hall, Morrible had the authority to impose changes as she saw fit. Therefore, the green-skinned Munchkinlander would be forced to live with the blonde beauty of Frottica. Galinda didn’t try to fight anymore than a few sighs and backhanded comments, her Ama not present to try and rebut Morrible’s actions, either. A part of Elphaba did wish that dear old Ama Clutch had been present that day though. She was the only one capable of convincing Madame Morrible to house Elphaba elsewhere. It was almost like it was fate.
When Morrible left the girls on their own, Galinda asked Elphaba if it was her who caused the commotion in the courtyard, having watched on from afar. Elphaba played coy before setting up, what was now, her side of the room. Galinda, in a fit of rage, demanded that Elphaba tell her the magical secrets that she possessed. Elphaba, not even sure herself of how power worked, found herself overwhelmed once more and the balcony door of the suite was slammed shut by an unseen force that sent a rattle throughout the rest of the suite.
They wouldn’t talk directly to one another for weeks. Instead, Galinda would try and avoid being in the room as little as possible. Elphaba found herself almost feeling bad, remembering that Galinda—or rather, her parents—paid for a private suite, but she soon discovered her roommate’s true character.
Galinda oftentimes didn’t look at Elphaba and when they saw each other on campus, she and her friends snickered at her. With each passing day, the divide between Galinda and Elphaba widened further, with Elphaba beginning to loathe her roomie and everything about her, no matter how small it may have been.
The only good thing about Galinda and living with her was her chaperone, Ama Clutch, who was a sweet old thing that did her best to make Elphaba feel comfortable. The growing connection between Elphaba and her Ama evidently upset Galinda. Elphaba just slightly relished it, though, smiling every time that Ama Clutch affectionately referred to her as ‘duckie.’
She detested everything about Miss Galinda. Every little trait about Galinda was despised by Elphaba. Galinda’s beauty; her wealth; her high-pitched voice; her all pink wardrobe. Mostly though, Elphaba loathed Galinda’s ability to float around like a butterfly, effortlessly charming everyone around her, even if she was doing nothing to earn their respect. Elphaba loathed how Galinda seemed to bask in the glow of adoration and acclaim, drawing attention and admiration without ever having to prove her worth.
She hated Galinda’s superficiality. She hated that she lacked any depth of understanding of the struggles that others faced. For example, Elphaba so often remembered how Galinda made a fool of their history professor, Doctor Dillamond. Because of his lack of upper front teeth, the Goat was incapable of properly pronouncifying Galinda’s precious name, rather referring to the blonde as ‘Glinda.’
In response, the treasured flower of Frottica berated the Goat for something he could not control in front of the whole class. This infuriated Elphaba to no end and she, in front of the other students, looked at Galinda and said, 'Maybe the pronuncifi-cation of your precious name is not the sole focus of Doctor Dillamond’s life.’ She had to stand up for him, he was already facing enough backlash for being one of the last Animal professors at Shiz.
Shortly after, Doctor Dillamond found a chilling message waiting for him on his chalkboard. ‘Animals should be seen and not heard!’ it said. This sent a shiver down Elphaba’s spine that moment and each time that she thought about it.
Not only was he facing enough mistreatment for being who he was, but Galinda had the audacity to berate him for something so small just moments prior.
She hated Galinda. She hated everything about her. Galinda Upland was everything that Elphaba despised about the greater world, but to an extent, she loathed her ability to remain blissfully oblivious to the plight of those around her.
She unadulteratedly loathed her. Elphaba loathed everything about Galinda.
“What does your father say, my little Horror?” asked Nanny, who sat on the bed of flowers beside Elphaba, also leaning against the tree. She held a couple of yarns of string and a needle, expertly passing it through several threads as she weaved some fabric together. The elderly woman wore all black and her silver hair was pulled up into a bun under her bonnet.
Elphaba glanced at the folded letter, then at her childhood Nanny who had always called by the now infamous nickname. Apparently, according to Nanny, Elphaba’s first word was ‘horrors,’ which brought great terror to both her parents. Maybe, that was another reason why Frex was so set on his belief of Elphaba being a demon of sorts.
“He says to look out for Nessa…” she paused before continuing, “and be good to my roommate.”
“Oh, my little Horror, don’t you worry about Miss Nessarose, she is my concern, not yours,” she smiled a forced grin, then looked over at Nessarose who was seated beside them in her wheelchair. “But, as for your roomie, I was talking to her Ama the other day—a lovely lady, really—she said that you are a good girl. Odd, but good. That’s my little Horror,” said Nanny proudly before turning her attention back to the fabric that she was weaving.
“Must you always call her that horrendible name, Nanny?” asked Nessa. She looked down at her sister and Nanny, towering over them in her wheelchair as they sat on the ground beside her. Perhaps, Elphaba thought quietly, Nessa felt powerful in this moment, being able to look down at others for once—those who she believed to be lesser than her.
Elphaba didn’t mind the nickname. She had actually grown to like it. She loved Nanny. It was Nessarose though, in her devout Unionist ways, hoping to not hear words that she deemed as ‘horrendible,’ or unholy.’
“Alright, alright, my Nessarose,” said Nanny with a simple shrug. She didn’t bat an eye at either of her girls, both of whom she raised as if they were her own.
Elphaba just sighed and looked out at the rolling hills before them that were illuminated by the golden beams of sun.
“Fabala,” called Nessarose like a master calling her servant. The younger sister waited until Elphaba turned to face her, summoning her by her familial nickname. “Father writes that he wishes that you’d be better to Miss Galinda. I couldn’t agree with him more. She is practically a saint for all that she has done for us. She is a lovely girl,” she said matter-a-factly before adding: “Even if she is a Lurlinist.”
Of course. Classic Nessa being Nessa. Not only was she admiring Galinda for no real reason, but she had to bring religion into the discussion somehow.
But, like everyone else, Nessa loved Galinda. She spoke of her so highly. It made sense, though, given Nessarose’s character.
In some ways, Elphaba considered that Nessa longed to be like Galinda. Flaunted and adored. Who wouldn’t want to be like her? Oz, who wouldn’t want to be with her?
Regardless, all that Galinda had done for Elphaba was act as a roommate whom she loathed. She did nothing for her that made sense for her to be compared to a saint. Nessa and her religious approach.
“Oh, hush, darling!” said Nanny. “I too am a Lurlinist and I care for you no differently than any nanny would. Now, eat your oranges,” she commanded as though Nessarose was a child.
Nessarose rolled her eyes and did as she was told, grabbing a slice of the citrusy fruit. She ate it and said, “It is true, though, Elphaba. Galinda is such a nice girl. She wants to master the magicks—as hedonist as it is. You would think that you’d get along so much better, given your similar experiences with witchcraft.”
Elphaba shook her head. “Miss Galinda is not a nice girl.”
“She allowed you to live with her!” Nessa replied.
“She did, my little Horror,” said Nanny as she continued weaving, not noticing the side-eye that Nessarose gave her for using such a word. “We can be grateful to her for that.”
“Not with compliance,” said Elphaba dryly. She wasn’t mad. She was annoyed with her sister’s frequent and unwarranted praise of others, especially someone as bad as Galinda. Then, she remembered the conversation from the night before and how they stayed up late just to talk. It had been their first conversation and Elphaba found herself unable to think about it through the night until she finally fell asleep. Something about it was warm, even if Galinda was as bad of a person as she thought.
“You haven’t even given her a chance, Elphaba!” pouted Nessa who ate another slice of her orange.
Nanny nodded in agreement and said, “I agree with your sister. You don’t even give her the time of day according to Ama Clutch. Not that I blame you, but we should at least be kind to her for what she has allowed.”
“Well,” Elphaba began, “We talked last night. A long conversation about religion. We talked about Unionism and Lurlinism, actually. Then, we talked about all that is wrong with the world and why it happens,” she said in a more animated tone than she usually spoke.
“Elphaba, must you be so pessimistical?” Nessa asked in a berating fashion. “Have you nothing more to talk about than your dark, pagan ways?”
“What else is there to discuss? The glory of the Unnamed God?” Elphaba asked absentmindedly, slumping against the bark of the tree more than she already was. She knew that this comment would anger her sister, but she didn’t care much. She loved her sister, but not her ideals. She couldn’t care less about her sister’s feelings regarding religion, especially with Oz’s current climate.
“Okay, that’s enough from the two of you,” said Nanny as she cut in between the two girls. “Little Fabala, I’m glad that you’re taking a chance on Miss Galinda, even if there are brighter things to talk about. We don’t want you scaring the poor flower to death. Now, you two fix this,” she added, trying to mediate a nonexistent argument between the girls who were more like daughters to her than
Nessarose shook her head, a look of disgust on her face. Elphaba looked at her, noticed the facial expression and sighed. “I’m sorry, Nessie,” she said apologetically, calling her sister by the personal nickname that she referred to her by.
“It’s okay for now, Fabala,” said Nessarose, a satisfied smile on her face.
And this routine was all too familiar. Nessarose expresses any sort of disappointment in Elphaba’s behavior and the older Thropp sister would have to apologize to maintain the fragile peace between them. This is how things had gone since they were children. This is how they were raised. Nessarose always won. She had everything she ever could have wanted.
Elphaba could never shake the bitterness, but she always bit her tongue, nonetheless.
“Oh, that reminds me!” said Nanny as she seemingly remembered something that almost slipped from her mind indefinitely. She reached for a black trunk beside her and handed it over to Nessa. “This came with your letters. It’s for dearest Nessarose.”
Elphaba watched curiously as Nessarose set the box on her lap, her eyebrow furrowing as everyone was curious to know the contents of the trunk. Nessa’s fingers delicately traced the latch before lifting it up, making the box shift open in a gentle, cracking motion. As the lid swung open, a soft glow emanated from within.
Inside was a pair of shoes. Not just any kind of shoes, but heeled slippers. They were silver and had bright blue sapphires and lime green emerald intricately embroidered into them. The footwear gleamed and glistened under the sunlight, each of the jewels shimmering like tiny stars that had been stolen from the night sky.
Elphaba felt a twinge in her chest, an immense feeling of both envy and resentment washing over as she recognized the familiar pair of glorious slippers. She watched as Nessarose pulled the shoes out of the trunk and held them up for everyone to see as if she and Nanny hadn’t already gotten a good look.
Nanny’s eyes widened as she gasped and said, “Great Lurline! Miss Melena’s silver slippers!”
“Mother’s jeweled shoes!” said Nessarose in awe as she admired the heirloom.
They should have been Elphaba’s.
She was the eldest.
She actually knew their mother, even if only for a short while.
Nanny shot Elphaba a glance, as though she too knew that they belonged to her rather than Nessarose who had already been given so much in the past.
Elphaba leaned forward and peeked into the box, as if she were looking for anything else in the trunk for herself, but she knew better. Nessa was her father’s favorite. She did find a piece of paper at the bottom of the trunk that she picked up and read aloud, “A gift for my darling pet, Nessarose. So that they all could know how beautiful you are down to your toes.”
She cringed, but hid it well. She hated the way that her father spoke to and about Nessa. It was almost demeaning.
No, it was demeaning.
It contributed to this.
“Oh! Father is so kind!” said Nessa. She handed them over towards Elphaba. “Fabala,” she smiled, but didn’t say anything more. Elphaba knew what she wanted her to do, though.
Dropping to her knees, Elphaba took the shoes from Nessarose and lifted up her white dress. Then, she removed Nessa’s flats and slid the silver slippers onto her feet.
Nessarose leaned forward and gasped, staring at the jeweled shoes that now adorned her feet. Her black and white striped stockings contrasted nicely with the diamond adorned footwear.
“Oh, Elphaba! Aren’t they simply wonderful? Nanny? Don’t they look lovely on me?”
Both of the other women nodded in unison, though didn’t say a word. Elphaba wasn’t the jealous type, she was used to this type of thing. But those shoes should have been hers. Nanny simply stared in admiration, watching the jewels sparkle under the golden sun.
It was a few clock-ticks before Elphaba spoke up and snarkily said, “They’re beautiful, Nessa. Why don’t you go show the fashionista Miss Galinda? Nanny and I care very little for the little things in life. You always said faith or fashion."
“Speak for yourself,” said Nanny as she kept her eyes locked on the shoes that gleamed before her very eyes.
“Don’t be like that, Elphaba!” Nessarose said with a pout. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
That triggered something in Elphaba, but she stayed well composed. She always did.
“I am happy for you, Nessa,” Elphaba replied, her voice a little sharper than it usually was and more shrieky and banshee-like than she intended. She grabbed her bag from off the ground and slung it over her shoulder before walking off, leaving Nanny and Nessarose alone under the Quoxwood tree as she headed back to campus.
"Oh! Fabala!" Elphaba had heard Nessarose call, but she didn't turn back and answer her call this time.
There was a certain amount of sorrow present in the green girl’s heart. It was a feeling that she knew that she shouldn’t have felt. She was raised to believe that she shouldn't hold any harsh feelings towards Nessarose.
Nessarose needed extra love. She needed extra attention. To Frex and Nessa, though, that meant that she needed to be showered in gifts and attention. She needed everything done for her, even if she could do it herself. Elphaba was her servant, Nessa was the master.
Galinda and Nessarose, to Elphaba, were so similar. Despite their very obvious differences, it was clear why they liked each other as they did.
Elphaba knew how dumb it was to get upset over a pair of footwear. Elphaba didn’t even like fancy shoes, hardly caring for fashion very much. Galinda on the other hand, put too much effort into fashion for Elphaba’s taste (as beautiful as she may have looked in those pinks, light reds, and pastel purples) and Nessarose always said that one’s devotion to clothing was a ‘sin.’ She deemed glamorous clothing as a distraction to more important things, like the Unnamed God. Frex held the same beliefs. Religious nuts.
'Faith over fashion,' Nessa always said. Frex would always smile so proudly. At least he got his teachings through to one of his daughters. His favorite, no doubt. Good for him.
Good for them, thought Elphaba.
Yet, here Nessa was, so proud to take the jeweled shoes that once belonged to their mother, Melena---whom, Nessa didn't even know. A family heirloom passed from mother to daughter to represent the lineage of the Thropp Eminence, skipped Elphaba entirely.
Instead, per usual, Nessarose was given everything. Frex favored her too much sometimes.
Nessarose had no right to those shoes; they were Elphaba's.
Frex had no right to those shoes, either; they were Elphaba's the moment that Melena died.
They weren't Frex's to give. They weren't anyone's to give, other than Elphaba. Great Oz, had Nessa asked her for them (should they have been given to Elphaba as they were meant to be), she would have loaned them to her without a doubt.
Those shoes should have been Elphaba’s. They were rightfully hers.
I’ll get those shoes, Elphaba thought. Someday.
In the future, those jewels would be on her feet, instead. She would get them. Maybe to spite Nessa. Maybe to spite Frex. Maybe to give herself the validation she always wanted.
She knew how petty that may have been, but she didn’t care. The years of her father’s favoring of Nessa had carved deep wounds into her heart and she could only take so much of it.
As much as she hated to think about it, Elphaba knew that within a couple of hours, everything would be back to normal and Nessarose would continue to be victorious and on top, unbothered by Elphaba’s jealousy which would continue to be suppressed.
Elphaba would let Nessa win. Just like she always did. That was the one thing that her father taught her how to do.
She loathed Nessa. She loathed Galinda.
She loved Nessarose, even despite everything. It was her fault that Nessie was the way she was, after all. That’s what her father told her. Maybe, that was the real reason that he hated her.
She hated Galinda, though. At least, she told herself that she hated her.
She hated Galinda Upland. She would be the recipient of all her loathing. That is where she would direct her hate for today. Galinda Upland was the bane of her existence.