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?


11. "i could watch you forever" -skrillex

Just two more minutes. Two more minutes until ten o’ clock. I was jittery in my seat, anxious to chase after Brandon. I’ve already waited a good 13 minutes; just two more and I’m home free with no broken promises. I glanced at the clock again; 9:59am.

“Damn it!” I yelled, fisting the t-shirt I had put on several minutes ago. Sixty seconds can feel like so long when you’re waiting on something.

Right as the clock struck ten, I scurried over to the edge of the bed, searching for my chair. As quickly as I could, I hopped in and wheeled over to my bedroom door. Jiggling the handle, I found it locked.

“Locked?” I asked in disbelief. “How can it be locked from the outside?” I kept jiggling it with no affect.

How else am I going to get out of here? I thought to myself. I looked around the room, sighing once I found the answer. I pulled back my curtains and unlocked my window. This was a bad idea. Actually, it was a terrible idea. I said a quick prayer for safety. I swung open the glass, leaning out. It was a good 15 feet to the ground…great. I hiked my left leg over the window’s frame, trying to find a foothold. Settling my foot on a thin ledge, I forced my right leg to follow. It complied, doing that unusual twitchy thing it always does. I clearly didn’t think this through because now my only option was to jump. I mentally face-palmed myself. Bracing myself for impact, I took a tiny leap. I landed hard on my left side, hurting my hip and shoulder. I winced at the pain and tried to shrug it off. As if misfortune was already on my side, it started raining.

I crawled through the bushes, pricks and thorns scraping my arms and legs. They tugged at my clothes, ripping holes. By the time I reached the front door, I was a bloody mess. I reached for the door handle, gripping it tightly. I pulled myself off the ground, wobbling from pain and unbalance. I pushed open the bulky wooden entrance, still holding the door for support. I was then face to face with Macy, Brandon, and my mother and father.

“What do you mean, ‘she knows?’” my mother shouted before averting her attention to me. “Blythe?”

They all just sort of stood there watching me for a moment, not sure if it was actually me. Even when I nodded, they continued to stare. Brandon was the first to rush to my aid.

“What happened?” he reached for my hand.

“Don’t touch me.” I demanded through gritted teeth. For the most part, this was all his fault. I could feel the hurt look on his face as he slowly backed away.

“Blythe, honey,” Macy stepped over to me, “how did this happen? You look, uhm, beaten.”

I could only imagine how I looked; soaked-through pajamas, blood-bathed, and my hair practically pasted to my face and neck. I took a deep breath, lifting my sight to everyone.

“I…” I started, “I jumped out of my window.”

“Why on earth would you do such a thing?” mother questioned, not even coming to assist me.

“Maybe because my door was locked,” I shot Brandon an angry glance. He shrugged his shoulders guiltily. It stabbed at my heart that he would do such a thing. Even after our early morning adventure.

“I regret that,” he sighed. Mother snapped her head in his direction.

You locked it? What were you doing around there?”

“Why would you do that?” I ignored my mother’s question.

“It was for your own good.” He spoke quietly.

“For my own good? Are you joking?”

“Well, I—“

“Bullshit! Complete and utter bullshit!” I screamed.

“You watch your mouth young lady,” mum pointed a finger at me.

“No! I’m tired of being your perfect little lady. I’m doing things my own way! Now,” I looked back over to Brandon, “Is that seriously what you thought?”

He looked up at me, his eyes a bit glassy looking. “I was just trying to do what was best for you. I need to avoid you, Blythe.”

“Why? Are you so stupid as to not acknowledge my feelings? Even after this morning?” He looked back at the floor as Macy and mum and dad stared, confused.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?! I kissed you. I was willing to give myself to you.” I fell to my knees over the threshold. “I. Love. You.” I gritted my teeth as I said those much-needed words.

“You…love me?” he crouched down next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“I never took you for such ignorance.” I spoke quietly. He hugged me tightly. Giving in, I hugged him back, staining his clothes with blood splotches.

“I thought the same of you,” mother said before delivering a backhand to my face and pulling me by my hair away from Brandon.

“What are you doing?” Brandon protested.

“Get out! Both of you are fired, and don’t even think about ever coming back!” she yelled, grabbing a pistol from her coat pocket.

“Stop you sadist witch!” I yelled.

“Not until they leave. Give yourself to him my ass. You’d be dead before I ever let him touch you.”

Macy shoved Brandon out the door for his protection, soon following after. I laughed a bit inside, knowing she had already lost this battle. Knowing they had gone, mother handed my father the gun.

“I hate you.”

“Well as of now,” she hissed, “the feeling is mutual.”

My dad hauled me off to my bedroom, throwing me on the bed, then slamming and locking the door. I got up and crawled to the window. Looking out, I could see Macy and Brandon walking through the brisk morning rain. Then, Brandon turned back to the house. Seeing me in the window, he mouthed the only thing I’ve ever wanted to hear:

“I love you, too.”

I pressed my face to the cold, glass pane. He was gone. Gone forever.

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