The Young Woman In The Wheelchair

The young woman sighed softly as she stared out her window longingly, a warm summer breeze blew across her face and through her hair.  She breathed in the enticing smell of the salty ocean mixed with funnel cake that the breeze brought into her room.
    I wonder what sand feels like between your toes, she wondered as she continued to stare at the sparkling blue ocean that lay a simple walk from her home.  
    The golden beach was dotted with people and she longed to join them.  She longed to run along the shoreline, to splash in the water and feel it caress her skin.  She longed to dig her toes into the sand and feel what she could only dream of feeling. With her condition though, those thoughts were out of the question.  She shut the window and gave one last longing glance before turning away.  There was no use in torturing herself.
    She sighed and spun her wheelchair around before rolling herself over to her laptop.  She ran her delicate finger over the touch pad and the computer hummed to life.  She surfed the internet for a little while, checked her email, and the news.  She began growing bored though and closed her laptop in annoyance.  She rolled away from her desk and stopped in front of her full length mirror that sat in the corner of her tiny room.
    The girl in the mirror was a natural beauty.  Her medium hair was so brown it was almost black and it held soft waves as it settled on her shoulders, framing her slender face perfectly.  Her pale skin shone in the midday sun that leaked through her window and her hazel eyes shifted colors as she continued to stare at herself.  Her delicate features seemed solemn as she continued to stare.  Her small and tight figure held lean arms, and a smooth waistline, but after that she was anything but beautiful.  The girl in the wheelchair stared at her useless, atrophied legs with hatred.
    "Stupid things! Why won't you work?"  She exclaimed and stared at them harder.  She began to will them with her mind to move, like she had often begun to do lately.  It was no use though, they hadn't moved in thirteen years and they would never move, no matter what she did.
    It was an accident at the age of five that had made her the girl in the wheelchair.  Her father was a severe alcoholic.  He was quick to anger, and abusive to both her mother and herself.  Their house was a terrible place to be for a five-year-old; for anyone really.  
     Just one shove was all it took.  She ground her teeth together as she fought the angry tears that welled up in her eyes and threatened to spill over.  The memories of that night thirteen years ago crashed down on her like a ton of bricks.  She saw the scenes reflect in the mirror, clear as day.
    Her father had just gotten home from work, and her mother had not yet gotten dinner on the table.  He was already drunk and impatient, screaming that her mother was useless and picked up the kitchen knife.  She couldn't sit on the sidelines any longer.  She had jumped up to her mother’s aid, not caring what happened to herself.
    Her father yelled something at her and shoved her with all his might.  After that, all she could remember were bits and pieces.  There had been screaming, the sounds of a beating, the smell of blood, then pain that consumed her tiny torso.  It was all branded into her memory, never to be overlooked or forgotten.
    That day, her mother had finally had the ability to put her abusive husband in jail.  He died a year ago in the place he belonged.  Now she and her mother lived by themselves, their lives were light and easy, but her useless legs were always a reminder of their wretched past.
    A sudden crashing noise brought her back to the present.  She flinched in fright at the familiar sound as she turned around quickly and stared at her window, a huge gaping hole now occupying it.  A baseball rolled across the floor and stopped in front of her.  She grabbed the ball and rolled up to her busted window, flinging it open quickly.
    She look out and down at the street below just in time to see two small boys running off in fear.
    "Hey! You two, get back here!"  She yelled futilely.  It was no use, she couldn't chase after them and by the time she got downstairs, they would be long gone.  
     "Damn kids," she grumbled and stared at the baseball in her hand.  She gripped it to the point of her knuckles turning white. 
    She scowled as she stared at the hole.  "At least THAT’S fixable," she grumbled and turned from the window.
    "Miss, are you okay?"  A man's voice asked from below.
    She turned and rolled back up to the window to see a very handsome young man standing on the street below.  Even from her second story window she could see him very clearly.
    His medium brown hair was tussled out of his eyes attractively, and worked well with his sharp features.  He wore basketball shorts and a sleeveless tee that showed off his toned arms and shoulders.  An iPhone was strapped to his bicep and headphones dangled around his neck.  Sweat beaded along his well-tanned skin and ran down his nose.  His jade green eyes were wide with concern as he looked at her and then the busted window.  
    "I heard the crash and then someone yelling as I was running by, is everything okay?"  He asked as he stared at the vexed girl; the baseball clutched tightly in her hand as she rested it on the windowsill.
    "I'm fine, just two delinquents causing trouble," the young woman called down.
    "Well, I'm glad you're okay.  What are you going to do about the window?"  He called up as he stared at it.
    "I'll call someone about it tomorrow, as long as it doesn't rain I think things will be okay," She said and smiled, thankful for this his kindness.  Her mother wasn't due back until late tonight, and she would know what to do with the window better then she would.  A sudden rumble of thunder filled the sky and the young woman cursed under her breath.
    "If you'd like, I could come in and help tape up your window, so it'll hold against the rain until it's fixed," the young man offered.
    "It's fine, I can do it myself!”  
    "Please let me, after all it was my little delinquent brother who busted your window," the young man said with a smile.
    The young woman sighed and looked at the window, she really didn't want to fix it herself.  "I'll buzz you in, I'm apartment 10B."
    "Alright," the young man said with a smile and disappeared under the awning.
    She quickly turned around, rolled out of her tiny bedroom and entered the hall of her small brownstone apartment.  She passed the cozy living room and updated kitchenette before coming to the front door.  She waited by the intercom system, and stared at the key rack until she heard a beep from the speaker.  She quickly pressed the white button and a faint buzzing noise reached her ear.
    In a matter of minutes, a knock came at the door.  She undid the lock and rolled back, saying, "Come in."
    The door swung open slowly and the young man from outside hesitantly stepped inside.  His eyes widened in shock at the young woman in front of him, for he had not known she was in a wheelchair.  She had seemed so normal and moved about so smoothly from when he had seen her through the window.  His eyes suddenly wandered from her legs to her face.  Aside from the wheelchair, he could also see her more clearly.  She was very beautiful and his heart raced as he wondered what her name was.
    The young woman in the wheelchair grew self-conscious as he continued to stare.  She began to sexiness guess letting him in; she should have known all he would do was stare.  She had half a mind to ask him to leave, but she needed to patch up the window.  Before she could snap at him for staring, she realized he was staring at her face, not her legs.  She cleared her throat and the young man blinked, a small blush coloring his cheeks.
    "What do you need to patch up the window?"  She asked as she turned her head away, a soft blush creeping into her own cheeks as she found herself enjoying his gaze.
    "Do you have cardboard and tape?"  He asked, his attitude carefree as he threw a glance at her; he really wanted to know her name.
    "Easy enough!”  She expertly turned her wheelchair around and rolled smoothly into the kitchen.  
     She moved around with such ease and grace, it mesmerized the young man.  He couldn't take his eyes off her as she moved so independently around the small space.  She soon held cardboard and tape in her lap, and a tight smile covered her face at his amazed expression.
    "What?  Never seen a cripple do things for herself?"  She asked stiffly with a smug edge in her tone as she rolled past him, just narrowly missing his foot with the wheel.
    "It's not that, you just seem so comfortable in your wheelchair.  It's cool watching you get around in it," He explained as he took the cardboard and tape and approached her window.
    "Oh, well, thank you," The young woman said as she looked at his back with a calculating look.
    He wasn't treating her the way she was normally treated by people when they saw her handicap.  He didn't seem to be looking at her like a cripple, he wasn't even giving her pity.  He was treating her like she had working legs and it intrigued her.  She suddenly wanted to get to know him.
    The young man felt her eyes on his back as he worked.  This slowed his progress, for he was wondering why she would be staring at him so intently.  He finished the deed the best he could before standing up and smiling proudly at his work.  The now busted window was covered with the cardboard and the duct tape was holding it snugly in place on both sides of the window.  No rain would be getting it.
    "There you are, that should do for now.  I suggest you call your insurance agent soon, so that you can get that fixed," He suggested and handed her the roll of tape.
    She accepted it and placed the roll on her slender arm like a tacky bracelet.    "I'll have my mom do that when she gets back, thank you so much for your help," the young woman said.