TWENTY-FOUR YEARS AGO, AGED 6:

      The sound of laughter rang through the small house, and two young girls ran down the stairs. They were identical, matching manes of red hair whipping out behind them as they hurried towards the kitchen, blue eyes crinkled as they giggled, racing each other down the hall and round a corner into a small kitchen.

     They practically threw themselves into their chairs, both crying out a desperate, "I win!"

     One of the twins turned to their mother, "Mommy! Who won? It was me, wasn't it?"

     A young woman, Myra Jenkins, who was in her late twenties, turned around with a kind smile, letting out a quiet laugh. Her ginger hair was tied loosely into a ponytail, and she was wearing her Nurse's uniform, watching her daughters, before saying sweetly, "You both win, girls."

     "I would have won, but Carla cheated!" One of the twins protested.

     Carla opened her mouth in outrage, "Not true! Sarah's the one who had a headstart!"

     "Why must you two be so competitive all the time?" Their mother teased, placing two plates of pasta down in front of them.

     Carla gasped, as Sarah said gleefully, "You made your special pasta!"

     "Of course I did, I know it's your favourite," Myra said, watching as the twins begun eating. She smiled, eyes shining with adoration as she watched her two six-year-olds happily eat their food, "And I'd do anything for my favourite girls."

     EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO, AGED 12:

     A blood-curdling scream cut through the house, and Carla sat upright, "Sarah?"

     All she got in reply was another scream, and the girl scrambled to her feet, running downstairs, "Sarah? Sarah, where are you?"

     She burst into the living room, freezing when she saw the sight in front of her.

     Sarah was standing upright, hands covering her mouth in horror, body heaving with sobs, and by her feet was a shrivelled and twisted corpse, old and decayed.

     Its flesh was grey and clinging to the bones, eyes sunken and white hair hanging in clumps. It reminded her of a mummy, like one of the ones found in those history books, but instead of being printed on a page it was a few feet in front of her.

     Carla gagged, covering her mouth and nose, and averting her gaze.

     "Sarah?" Carla asked, horror filling her, "Sarah, what happened?"

     Sarah let out a sob, "I didn't mean to."

     "Didn't mean to do what?" Carla took a step forward, cautiously reaching out to place a comforting hand on her twins shoulder, however, Sarah stumbled away, yelping out, "Don't touch me!"

     Then, Sarah fell to the floor, kneeling down and holding her head in her hands, "I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't, I would never-"

     "Wait," Carla's eyes went wide, blood freezing like ice in her veins with dread, "Who is that?"

     All Sarah did was sob, mumbling incoherent words, shaking her head.

     "Sarah," Carla repeated, more stern this time, deperately wishing her theory wasn't true, "Who is that?"

     "I didn't mean to-" Sarah choked out, and Carla felt her heart still, because she finally understood what had happened, who the withered corpse was.

     "It's Mom," she muttered, and Sarah's cry was enough to confirm her suspicions.

     Carla felt like she was going to throw up, her blood was roaring in her ears, and suddenly all she could do was look at the corpse on the floor.

     She was going to throw up. Christ, she was going to throw up.

     Carla turned around, hunching over and retching, although nothing but bile came out.

     Slowly, she righted herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

     "Sarah," she said eventually, after a pause that could have lasted seconds, hours, minutes, years, "Sarah, we need to go."

     FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, AGED 15:

     "Well, looky here, it seems we have two lovely young ladies to entertain us," a voice said, as six clearly drunk men appeared at the mouth of the alley, approaching the twins slowly, deliberately.

     "We don't want any trouble," Sarah said warily, as the six men advanced.

     "Neither do we," a man with matted grey hair said, "So just stay quiet and be good, eh?"

     A grimy hand grabbed Carla's upper arm, and she tried to shake herself free, "Let go!"

     Sarah tried to protest, but she was backed into a wall too. Her eyes flitted over to meet Carla's, both as panicked as each other.

     A hand grabbed Carla's chin, forcing her to look into the predatory eyes of one of the men, his other hand beginning to crawl up her thigh. Carla tried to move away, fear crawling up her spine.

     Then, now enraged, the slightly elder twin raised her arms in the air. Carla looked at her in alarm,"Sarah, no!"

     In a flash, one of the men had pulled a gun, holding the barrel against Sarah's stomach, "Don't fucking  move."

     Sarah's eyes shifted to just over the man's shoulder, her gaze locking with Carla, and in that brief second, the elder twin seemed to tell Carla her plan.

     Her arms, still raised, suddenly swept downwards before Carla could do anything, and several things happened at once: there was a bright light, a loud bang, and a gust of strong wind that swept over the alley.

     Carla threw herself to the ground, shielding her head with her arms and holding her breath.

     Slowly, Carla cracked her eyes open, ears ringing in the eerie calm that followed as she staggered to her feet. The six men were no more than shrivelled figures, curled up on the floor, skin like old and decaying leather, devoid of hair.

     They looked the same that her mother did.

     Then, Carla's eyes settled on another figure, slumped on the floor.

     "No," Carla whispered, voice hoarse and weak, no louder than the gentle breeze the blew her hair back from her face.

     Sarah was lying down, red hair fanned about her face, matted with blood. Her abdomen was covered in the dark red liquid too, and Carla fell to her knees by the body, not caring that her jeans were getting soaked with the crimson liquid, "Sarah?"

     Sarah took a hoarse breath, chest rattling, and her hazy eyes unsteadily focused on her twin, "Carla?"

     "It's me, I'm here," she said desperately, "It's going to be okay. I'm going to get help."

     Carla's hands hovered over the wound, before covering it with her palms, trying to stem her sister's flow of blood, but the hot, sticky liquid seemed to seep through her fingers impossibly fast and thick.

     Sarah exhaled, slowly shaking her head, "It's too late."

     "No, it's not," Carla insisted, her vision blurring due to the tears welling in her eyes, "It's not, okay? Things are going to be fine, you're going to be fine."

     "It was a stupid move," Sarah muttered, the barest of smiles flickering on her face.

     Carla nodded, letting out a broken sob, "Yeah, it was. Why did you do it?"

     "Because they were going to hurt you," she said, before lifting a hand to cup Carla's cheek, leaving a smeared and bloody handprint.

     "Yeah, but now you're the one hurt!" Carla snapped, hands still pressing down on her stomach, tears cutting tracks through the blood and grime on her cheeks, "You can't leave me, Sarah. You- You're all I have left."

     "I'm s-sorry," Sarah said, voice slurring slightly, clearly growing weak, tears shining in her own eyes, "I'm... I'm so sorry."

     "Don't apologise!" her twin cried, briefly squeezing her eyes shut, "None of this is your fault, okay?"

     Sarah's eyes fluttered.

     "No, you can't leave me," Carla pleaded, "Please, Sarah. I cant do this without you."

     The girl's eyes flickered to meet Carla's, and a soft, gentle smile worked its way onto her mouth, "Y- Yes you... can. I..." she took in a shuddering breath, and Carla paused with baited breath to hear what she said.

     Then Sarah's hand went limp, falling from Carla's cheek to the floor, her eyes turning glassy and unfocusing, chest falling as she let out a final breath.

     "No!" Carla cried, moving to cradle her sister's body, holding it close.

     "I love you," Carla said desperately, pleadingly, praying that Sarah heard, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, no. Sarah, you can't leave me. No!"

     She dissolved into sobs, barely coherent pleas and apologies falling past her lips. She begged anyone or anything that could be listening to bring Sarah back.

     An infinity passed, Carla hunched over Sarah's body, sobbing until her chest felt as though it was about to collapse, and the blood on her body and clothes had dried.

     Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking down at the body in her arms. It was time to move on. Sarah had made her promise that if she were to die, Carla would burn the body.

     That's wbat they had done when their mother died. Carla burned the house to the ground, ultimately faking both of their deaths.

     Her hands heated up, to such an extent flames enveloped her palms and fingers, licking at the glowing flesh, and soon engulfing Sarah's body. Carla felt tears run down her cheeks again, seemingly sizzling on her skin that was now hot.

     She didn't want to let go. She didn't want to move on.

     She held Sarah's body tight, as the flames ate away at it, but a confused cry made her head snap up.

     A woman was standing at the mouth of the alley, screaming at the sight in front of her: six shrivelled and decaying bodies lying on the floor, and a girl crying, covered in blood as she cradled a flaming body.

     Knowing she had to move, Carla stumbled to her feet, covered in blood, before letting out a sob and running to the end of the alley, slipping through a small gap behind a builing, and moving through to a side street.

     She ran as fast as she could, cries wracking her body, occasionally tripping over her own feet through her tears.

     Here she was again, running from the horrors that came with powers, her feet slamming of the paving, breaths uneven and choked.

     She didn't know where to go, or what was going to happen, but Carla ran and ran, until she could run no more.