Frexspar Thropp was essentially a good man. He went to work, made money for his family, and took care of his girls like any father should. Even though it was obvious he favored one over the other, no one took the favoritism to heart, and dearly accepted Frexspar into their society. Besides, the girl was a freak; who could blame the poor man?

His youngest daughter, Nessarose, was a joy to have, though. She was crippled ever so sadly but never whined nor complained in company. She was a proper lady, and was admired, despite her terrible misfortune of being confined to a wheelchair.

Frexspar enjoyed buying Nessarose things to make her feel special. After all, she was special. He would buy her pretty dresses and shoes, and tie back her lovely brown hair with ribbons. Nessarose's underskirts were silky satin, while the actual dresses were made from the best of materials that he could afford. He spared no expense to show his love, and Nessarose gladly took in his praise and love, but shared all her fortunes heftily with her sister, whom never received much affection.

Elphaba wasn't the girl that Frexspar had ever wanted. She was catty, rude, obnoxious, and a terrible smart-alec to all who addressed her. He hadn't always been so disparaged by her presence, although the green skin had constantly been rather discomforting. The real trouble with the child, though, had started soon after she'd begun to chatter, and notice the reactions she gained from most people.

She truly had been an awful thing to raise, and he had been relieved when she'd received her acceptance to Shiz University, a fine school, where she could show off her only good quality; her smarts. But the day when she received her letter had also been relatively sad, as Nessarose had also got one. That meant his little girl would have to go away from home, but he wasn't worried, as her sister would undoubtedly care for her.

But, after what happened few days before their leaving for Shiz, Frexspar never trusted his daughter Elphaba again.

And, for the first time, he truly hated his green daughter.


Yes, I decided to keep writing. I posted one thing, and it occured to me that I can't just post one thing. It's like eating Pringles; you can't eat just one, because it's almost unholy.