Overcoming My Limits

At only the age of 11, Blythe Mitchell had been caught up in a terrible situation. One her family recalls as "The Accident." Her right leg was considered paralyzed and all the nerves had died, but Blythe had hope. One doctor she had consulted told her that in several years, she may just walk again.
Now, at the age of 17, Blythe is still wheelchair bound and even more curious about her "accident." It seems as if everyone but her knows what happened those many years ago. Her seemingly over-protective mother keeps silent and no one, not even her loyal maid, Macy Matthews, will tell her a thing. Which lead to another mystery. Why did the Matthews' go bankrupt after her accident? Did it have anything to do with her family?

Questions keep appearing. Can Blythe find the answers? Will she find her past, or will she finally understand the danger she's in?


17. "disasterology" -Pierce the Veil

Blythe? Blythe please wake up!”

I slowly opened my eyes to reveal a dark and damp room.

“W-where are we?” I asked.

“I-I don’t know…”

“Brandon…I’m scared.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” a man’s voice came up from behind me, “as long as you behave, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“But where are my mommy and daddy?”

“They’ll be here soon. And if they aren’t,” he cocked his gun, looking it over happily, “oh well.”


I woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. Tears stung my eyes, involuntarily.

“I shouldn’t be crying,” I told myself, wiping away the tears away with the back of my hand. “It only makes me look foolish.”

Gathering myself together, I fumbled for my chair.


Macy was just finishing up when I had rolled into the kitchen.

“There you are!” she turned around with a smile, “You hadn’t woken up before suppertime with your parents. Though I’m sure you wouldn’t want to join them anyway.”

I moaned in agreement.

“So I decided I would just keep yours warm until you woke up.”

“Thank you,” I gave her a tired smile.

Macy set the small table in the kitchen for me, humming a tune I’ve never heard before. I watched her quietly, observing her movements before turning my head to look out the window. The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. The trees swayed in the gentle breeze, their leaves dancing lazily. And for a moment, I was lost in it all; the thought that the world was peaceful and harmless.


“Ma’am?” I snapped my head up in surprise.

“Is something on your mind?” Macy asked as she took the seat across from me.

“Just—“ I was about to explain, when I remembered what happened the last time I tried to tell Macy about the ‘payments’ and my dreams.


“Blythe, you forget what you heard. Don’t ever repeat that to anyone. Leave it be.”


“It’s nothing really.”

“Oh come on, Blythe. You know you can tell me.”

No, I really can’t.

“Uhm…” I tried looking for some way to reword my thoughts. “Macy, have you ever had a wild dream?”

She laughed, “But of course.”

“I know, but… have you ever had one that seems like a possibility? Like it really could have happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, it’s a possibility that could happen, or… has happened.”

“Hmm…” she looked a bit cautious, “what have you been dreaming about?”

“Uh, like, skydiving or when mom used to be happy,” I replied, looking down at my hands. I felt dirty. I’ve never lied to Macy before.

“Sweetheart, is that what this is about? You think your mother doesn’t love you?”

“Of course she doesn’t. Look at the way she’s treated me!”

“She does it to protect you.”

“From what?” I raised my voice. “What am I up against? It’s like my life is a game and everyone else around me my opponent. Everyone else, keeping things from me and meeting in secret. If this is about me, why am I the only one who doesn’t know?”

“Blythe, listen to me now. What happens with your parents, is your parents’ business—“

“But it’s not just them, is it? It’s all of you!”

“So it obviously doesn’t concern you!”


I narrowed my eyes at her, and for the first time in my life, I felt resentment towards her.

“And to think I could trust you.” I shakily stood up, choosing to walk.

“Blythe hone—“

“Don’t touch me,” I all but hissed, “it’s about time I took care of myself.”






I collapsed onto my bed, straining myself not to break down. I thought Macy was the one person on this earth that I could trust whole-heartedly. More than my own mother.

Why do I do this to myself?

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