Paranormal Twins: The New Beginning

I tried listening for Rachelle’s voice, but all I heard was the roar of flames. Everywhere I turned there was a blistering wall of red and orange. I could hardly breathe from the smoke going through my nose and collecting in my lungs. I stumbled around the house blindly, barely recognizing the place I’ve lived in for 2 years.

I finally heard out-of-breath coughing on the other side of the wall I was running my hand against. I felt for the door. The handle was burning. I kicked the door open and saw the silhouette of Rachelle on the other side of flames. I backed up and jumped through the fire, not giving myself time to think of a different solution. I was engulfed by the flames.

I landed and fell onto my knees on the other side of the flames. Not taking the time to check for any burns I received, I quickly stood up, broke the window to the outside, grabbed Rachelle’s arm, and pushed her through the window to the outside. We ran to the gate and I lifted her up over the gate, wanting to get as far away from the house as possible- as quickly as possible.

We managed to run down to the next street before Rachelle fell down, coughing hard. I rubbed her back as she doubled over, trying to release the smoke from her lungs. I didn’t feel any of the smoke’s effects and, as I took the time to look into a car reflection, was surprised to find it didn’t look like I took any fire damage. My clothes were singed, and I was slightly red from the heat, but nothing like the damage Rachelle had. Her face was red and her arms were burnt, and her hair was singed and black with soot. Her clothes were practically falling off of her from the holes burned into them. She was better than she could have been, though, so I was thankful for that.

When she was completely over her coughing fit and she could breathe normally again, she sat up. She leaned against a car, trying to replace the smoke with fresh oxygen into her lungs. We waited there for another few minutes before I helped her stand up and walked slowly away from the house. After we took a few turns and were out of the sight of our burning house, Rachelle asked what happened.

“One second I was doing my homework and the next… Smoke was coming through the door…” She kept having to stop and take a breath. “I heard dad screaming and… Mom was already drunk and passed out in bed… I couldn’t wake her up…” She cut herself off. I bit my lip, not knowing what to tell her. I didn’t know for sure what happened myself.

“I… I think I did it,” I said, hesitation in my voice. She looked at me and slowed her walking in shock. She was searching my face, trying to tell if I was lying, or if it was an accident, but she knew by the tone of my voice that neither was true.

“Our father…” I started, “He is… Well, he was… Wasn’t…” I stuttered and took a breath. “He was not a good man.” I hesitated a second time, but I decided my sister was old enough to understand. I walked to the side of the road and sat down on the curb. She sat with me. “At night, after he came home from the bars, he would… Well, originally he was violent. He would hit me. Yell at me. Kick me. Whenever I did anything wrong. A bad grade, burnt food, anything. Even if it wasn’t my doing. Then… Last year, he started to… Touch me. At first it was an arm or a leg, gentle, not like the punches he would throw. I thought he was going to stop abusing me. I thought it was getting better. Then it started being more touches, different places, more… Intimate.” I shuddered at the memory, and hesitated on telling Rachelle. But when I saw her face, confused and worried, I continued. “He started molesting me. I never told anyone because… Mom was always drunk and asleep, not that she would care anyway, you were so young, and… I was afraid that if I told authorities, dad would try to come after you...” I could feel myself tearing up and I hid my face behind my hands, embarrassed that I ever let it happen.

Rachelle noticed my tears, despite my struggles to hide them, and put her arm around my shoulders. I stiffened up and moved away. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. Especially not with what I was about to tell her.

“Tonight… Well, he brought me up to his room. I was scared, and I remember his getting closer to me, and then... I remember running through the house, seeing everything ablaze. I ran to find you and get you out to safety. You were the only thing I cared about after that.”

I looked down at my hand and thought about the fire. The flames. Suddenly a quick flame sprang from my fingers before disappearing with the wind. Rachelle gasped in shock and stood up, backing away from me. I stood up as well and tried to gently take her hand, but she recoiled away. Like I would intentionally hurt her. I pulled my hand back and let it hang at my side.

“Rachelle… Please… Don’t be afraid of me… I don’t even know how I did it… And even if I did, if I could… I could never hurt you.” She watched me, hesitantly, before nodding. She knew me. She knew when I was being serious.

We walked in a circle around our neighborhood, a few feet in between us at all times, before ending up back on our street. The house had collapsed in on itself and the fire department was trying to put the fire out.

“Do you think they got out?” Rachelle asked quietly. I looked at her gloomily and bit my lip.

“I… I don’t think so… That fire… It was strong...” I said in response.

Rachelle nodded slowly. “Is it… Is it wrong that I’m a little relieved…?” She asked quietly. I shook my head.

“I am too. I never want to see them again.” I responded, glancing back at the house calmly.

“So… What do we do now…? Are they going to put us in a home?” Rachelle asked. I looked at our house, in flames, to the firemen trying to put out the fire, to the policemen asking our neighbors how the fire started. I looked at Rachelle and hesitantly reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away, and I took it in mine.

“We’re not going into foster care. We’re not being sent to a home. We’re going to run away.” She looked up at me and nodded, squeezing my hand. I never felt so calm in my life.

Together, we ran.