I don't own Wicked.

I'm hoping people read this story. I honestly think it has potential unlike my other ones. Everything is planned out on an outline (which I rarely do). I hope I get reviews to motivate me so I don't slack off. I assume if I don't get reviews, people aren't reading it so the story doesn't turn out as well as it should.

Anyway, this is a bookverse AU where Frex really hated Elphaba deeply and locked her up in the cellar so nobody would see his green daughter. Rating might go up to M if I feel the need later on. Enjoy ^_^

Nessarose Thropp sat in her chair hunched over in a deep prayer to the Unnamed God. Her brown hair was neatly brushed and hung limply at the sides of her head. Honestly, the hair in her face was slightly annoying her, but she couldn't push it behind her shoulders for her lack of arms. She was a tragically beautiful girl with the perfect nose she had inherited from her mother, and those lips that she feared would never be kissed were pink and plump. Her eyes, although closed, were a pretty shade of medium brown. Her sixteen year old figure was slim, but she obviously had some hips and normal sized breasts.

The room she was placed in was silent, perfect for her prayers. It was so silent, one could hear a pin drop on the floor. Nobody knew what she could possibly pray for so much other than arms which would be pointless for her to ask the Unnamed God for. Perhaps her deep faith in the Unionism faith was the only thing keeping the helpless girl sane in her very limited life.

Nessa turned her head quickly towards the door when she heard it creak open. She had stopped mid prayer and glared at her brother (although he couldn't see it because her hair covered her face). The twelve year old boy gently pulled her hair back for her, and her gaze softened. "Thank you, Shell. My hair had been bothering me for a while, you know," she said to him and smiled. Shell smiled at her and stood in front of her. He looked a bit nervous, and Nessa picked up on it quickly. "Is something bothering you? You never interrupt me while I pray to the Unnamed God." Shell's feet shuffled and he pulled at his fingers nervously.

"Nessa, there's something weird going on," he said quietly. He ran over to the door and locked it so they wouldn't be disturbed by anyone in the household. "I don't know how to put this lightly." He walked back over to his sister and stared into her eyes.

"Calm down, Shell," Nessa said soothingly as she watched tears fall down her brother's cheeks. She noted that he was pale and looked a bit sick. If she had arms, she would have steadied him with her hands. "Start from the beginning." The boy nodded and wiped away the stray tears.

"You know how father always goes into the cellar? Well, I followed him."

"The cellar is restricted! You know we aren't allowed down there! You're lucky father didn't catch you," she scolded, but softened her tone at the end because the boy looked troubled.

"I know, but I was curious. Anyway, he went all the way to the end of it where it was dark. He opened the door to this room-it had a lot of locks on it and it looked important, so I hid behind some boxes and stuff. Inside the room was a girl. I saw her hair, but that was it. It was black and all knotted."

"Are you sure?" Nessa questioned her brother, and he nodded three times to confirm it.

"That was four days ago. And today, I went down to the cellar by myself and talked to the girl. Well, she gave me coded messages because she didn't talk. It was quick, though, because I didn't want to be caught."

"What kind of coded messages, Shell?" Nessa asked him, letting him go on with his story that she didn't believe. She thought it was just a game he was playing. Their father was a Unionist minister and highly respected in Munchkinland! There was no way he could have a girl locked up in the cellar.

"She circles letters from books."

"Okay, Shell, this has gone on long enough." The very thought was chilling to her. She had heard stories about children who had been locked up in small spaces for years.

"I'm not making it up, Nessa. I'm twelve for Oz's sake! I swear on the Unnamed God this is true. I have proof," Shell said to her harshly, although his voice never rose higher than a whisper. "Look," he said and showed her the torn pages from the books. "Don't you see it? She circles the letters in order to communicate with me." And Nessa saw the letters circled in a brownish substance that looked like dried blood spelling out Save yourself.

"You're just trying to scare me," Nessarose's voice quivered.

"I'm not. I'll show you," Shell said and pushed her over towards the cellar. The challenge, they both knew, was to get Nessarose down the cellar.

"This isn't right," she said as Shell helped her up to her feet. "Father's going to catch us."

"Father won't know. He's out in the backyard talking to one of the neighbors." He put a hand behind her back to steady her as she shakily made her way down the steps. He led her to the darkest corner of the cellar where there was indeed a door. "She's in there," he whispered. Nessa could feel her heart beating rapidly through her chest. She noticed the many locks on the door, all of them needing keys. The whole situation was sketchy, and she was beginning to believe her little brother.

"Hey, it's me, Shell. Remember? I talked to you earlier today. I brought my sister down with me, her name is Nessarose. Can you knock on the door so she knows you're in there?" Shell questioned bravely. Nessa wished she had hands to cling to her brother, but instead, all she could do was focus on her heart and pray that it wouldn't come out of her chest.

The person behind the door knocked three times.

"Shell, this is messed up. Please tell me you and your friend what's his name are playing a horrible trick on me. I'll forgive you and I won't say a thing to father. Just please stop this. You're really scaring me," Nessarose felt her knees going weak, but refused to let herself fall because there was no way to catch herself if she did.

"Nessa, I'm not playing a trick. There's really a girl back there and we have to save her. Besides, there is no way I can reach half of the locks on the door." He was right.

Heavy footsteps approached them, and Nessarose was faced with her father. He looked scary, and unreal. He had never looked this ferocious in all of her sixteen years that she has known him. "So, Shell, you found your other older sister, didn't you?"

"Sister?" Nessa managed to speak up. "We have a sister?"

"Now, Nessarose, my beautiful girl, I know you weren't responsible for coming down here. After all, you can't get up and down stairs all by yourself," he said sweetly to her, but it was sick. Frexpar turned to Shell and glared at him. "You, on the other hand, are in big trouble."

"Father, you really have our sister locked up back there?" Nessarose questioned bravely, but she was terrified and her voice showed it.

"She's an abomination. It had to be done. But you shouldn't have found her," Frex spat at his son and violence ensued. To save his sister from being hurt, Shell ran up the stairs with his father chasing him. Nessa slumped to the ground and brought her knees to her chest and cried. She could hear violence going on upstairs, but she couldn't picture what exactly was going on. She heard shouts and a lot of thumping, but other than that, she was clueless. She looked over to the door and found a ripped page from a book beside her. Luckily, it was right side up so she could read it. Do not be scared. But get out of here and save yourself. Run away.

"I can't," Nessa replied and spoke to the girl behind the door-her sister. "I have no arms. I can barely walk on my own, let alone run. But I promise that Shell and I will get you out of here somehow. We're going to get help, I promise you that. As much as I love father, he can't do this to you. He says you're an abomination, but I can't find myself to believe it." She jumped when she saw green fingers reaching for her from underneath the small crack in the door. Perhaps it was just a trick of the light? Regardless of the girl's skin color, Nessa wasn't completely shocked. After all, she was deformed herself. She managed to kick her right shoe off and touch those fingers with her foot that was covered by tights. "Do you have a name? Mine is Nessarose as you know, but sometimes people call me Nessa."

Moments later, a paper was shoved under the door. Looking at the letters, she sounded out the name. "Elphaba," she said, testing it on her lips and forming the name in her mouth. "I like it. Elphaba is a lovely name," she said. Nessarose wished she could wipe the tears away falling from her eyes because she hated the stains they made on her delicate face. "Shell and I are going to get you out of here. We will get help. I don't know how or when. Regardless, I am going to try my best to get us out of here and then the three of us can live happily. I'm very tired. I think I'll shut my eyes for a moment, but only for just a moment because Shell might be hurt. But then again, what can I do to save him? I can't even save myself."

She prayed to the Unnamed God before she fell asleep on the floor, haunted with nightmares of herself being locked up in a small room for Oz knows how many years.

Shell limped his way to the bathroom in pain from his father's beatings. He had a feeling he'd get caught sooner or later. Despite the fact he was bleeding, bruising, and scarring, Shell refused to cry out in agony. He was twelve, close enough to being a man. He dabbed the alcohol at his cuts, refusing to let out a sound of pain. There was no way he could even complain about a thing knowing that his oldest sister had been locked up since she was three years old, a fact Frexpar Thropp had accidentally slipped in his rage. He had also mentioned that the girl was probably around nineteen. It hurt Shell that his sister hadn't been able to run and play with the other children and have a normal childhood.

Shell finished tending to his wounds and began to go down towards the basement. He had always respected his father albeit his Unionist ways were quite strange. But at that moment, Shell hated his father with everything in his being. The man made him sick to his stomach. He found Nessarose slumped over and sleeping on the floor. Luckily, she didn't weigh much, so he lifted her into his arms and brought her up the stairs into her room.

He stared down at her sleeping form. "We have to leave," he whispered to deaf ears. "I'm twelve. I can find work, get the law enforcement to take care of father, and I'll take care of my sisters, just like mom would have wanted."