confusifying | wicked | book 3/3

Nessa

After Elphaba got me out of bed this morning, I quickly ushered her out before the cold symptoms returned.
Mother's sat at the chair in front of my desk and in sat behind it.
Carefully, I get everything into an accessible position for tomorrow.
Pens, specifically three of them, books, folders, tape, rulers and an assortment of random stationary.
Harley is on her annual leave, she's not coming back for a while, so Elphaba has to keep coming in the mornings and evenings.
We've discussed Mother doing everything instead, for the time being but I said no.
I don't want her to have to worry about all of that.

I gaze down at the desk, a rush of nausea and fatigue hits me like a brick.
I place my elbows upon the desk and prop my drooping head up with my hands.
A heavy sigh escapes from my mouth, Mother looks up at me and tilts her head to the side, she echos my sigh, accept hers is more sad and concerned.
"Nessa."
"I promise I'm fine." I reply hastily, recognising her tone of voice, everyone uses that with me.
It's a mix of love, care and a dash of I know what's best for you.
"Nessarose you look awful, your in no state to even be out of bed." Mother's words rattle around in my already busy head.
I have to get out of bed.
Every morning.
Every day.
It's routine and I like routines very much, and if one day I just don't get out of bed, I may never get out again.
That's why I hate the holidays, it's gotten me out of my routine, this is my first holiday as a principal and I don't particularly like it.
I enjoy my job and practically all it entails.

"I'm okay." I whisper defeatedly, my arms begging to shake under the weight of my head.
"Elphaba told me, about the medicine." Mother mumbles briskly, attempting to run through her words quickly "about why you get sick all the time."
I'm not particularly happy that she's told mum that, it just gives her all the more reason to pity me and that's the last thing I want.
I used to thrive off of pity because I truly believed that people only spoke to me because they felt sorry for me, and I don't want it to be like that with my mother.
Mother sees the uncertainty on my face.
"Please don't be angry with your sister, I was just worried about you." Mother whimpers.
"I'm not angry" I mumble, wincing at the sharp daggers of headache in my head.

Mother leaps from her seat and hovers uneasily beside me.
She gently places a hand on my back, just between my shoulder blades.
"It's okay." She whispers softly, her voice kind and caring.
I nod my head but begin to cry.
I start to shake, I feel ill and scared, I'm supposed to be helping adolescents achieve their goals and I can't even keep my head focused on one thing.
I just can't mess up, not now.
Mother wraps her arm around me tighter and I lean into it, still crying, I look through blurry eyes down at the desk, I begin to look for something to focus on.
When I was younger and needed to calm down, I'd either pinch myself to stop crying or I'd count things.
One of those seems less destructive than the other.
I have three pens, two books, a half used roll of tape and a ruler, various other things catch my tearful eyes but I don't attempt to count them.
I focus instead on mothers touch, it's gentle, warm and loving.
She has her arm around me but it's not quite classified as an embrace.
We haven't hugged yet, I don't think I'm ready.
I know she is, but I just don't want to move to quickly.

A few minutes pass, mother leans back from me and hovers next to me, her hand still on my back but she's not as close to me.
"How are you feeling?" She enquires gently.
I open my mouth to speak but close it abruptly, my head starts to pound again and all I can think about is how much I'm shaking.
Every year this happens and every year I'm not ready.
"Cold..." I splutter at last "I'll go and get a blanket."
Mother taps me by the hand on my back.
I look up to meet her soft eyes.
"You stay here, I'll go and get it."
And with that, she flounces off into the lounge, returning moments later with the same grey blanket from my arm chair.
The blanket is gently placed around my waist and legs, I sit up abruptly.
"Have I put it on uncomfortably?" Mother asks frantically.
"No, I can't feel..." I stop myself from upsetting her, I rethink my words carefully, "no, it's fine."
I smile at her emptily but she seems satisfied with it and beams back.
I carefully pull the blanket up slightly more as to not let it get caught in my wheels.
I look slowly around the room, desperately trying to think of something else that I could do to prepare for tomorrow.
Mother right, I feel awful, I can't let the rest of the staff see me like this.
I'm genuinely debating on asking Harley to end her vacation days early.
But I can't ask that of her, it's too much.

"Everything alright nessarose?"
I nod my head slowly, my mind not completely caught up with speaking.
I can't ask Elphaba to come because I need her to know that I can cope on my own.
Because I can cope on my own.
Albert could come, but I don't want to stop him from being with Elphaba, the same with Fiyero.
Glinda is much too important to come here as I'm not asking Dr Dillamomd for help, he's busy enjoying his retirement.
I wonder if Boc could come and help for a bit.
It would be nice to talk to someone who isn't my mother.