It was suppose to be a short story... it ended up as a monster that should have been a novel... and once I get around to it... it might just be one. I wrote this for my Creative Writing class.

The Path

Light from a full moon filtered in through the open bedroom window, illuminating two sleeping figures. A dark shadow passed in front of their door, briefly blocking out the light from the hall. A few seconds later there was a crash, the harsh sound of breaking glass and a muffled curse. Maeve was laying awake in bed when she heard the sound and her gaze jerked toward the door. She then looked to the other bed and saw her own fear reflected in the eyes of her fifteen year old twin sister. Aldez's round blue eyes were swimming with unshed tears, her red curly hair was in a tangled mess falling around her shoulders, and her skin was paler than usual.

Standing outside her parent's room, Maeve could hear hushed, angry voices coming from inside. She stopped for a moment and waited, trying to make out the voices. What could their parents be arguing about this time? Then another voice chimed in, one she didn't recognize but it sounded menacing and her mother's worried sobs grew louder. Maeve's heart was pounding in her chest but she felt compelled to move forward. She needed to know what kinds of horrors were coming from the other side of the door. Her parents needed her. She looked over to her sister, and Aldez nodded; she was thinking along the same lines. Dazed, Maeve pushed the door farther open and looked inside.

Next to her, Aldez sucked in a surprised gasp, and Maeve followed her gaze to where their father was standing next to the bed. For a moment all she could see was the barrel of the gun, pointed right at their mother. Slowly, the face of a stranger came into focus and Maeve looked away, toward the quiet sobs of her mother. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever seen her mother look so terrified.

Her father's eyes moved to the doorway, shock and fear for his family shining brightly in them. The other man looked unfazed at the girls' entrance. Maeve watched her father, not knowing what to do. Everything seemed to be happening so slowly. He was yelling something at her but she couldn't make out what it was. She thought she could see him mouthing the words use your powers but she wasn't sure.

Maeve shook her head, she hadn't even been able to call upon her powers yet, let alone get them to work on command. Suddenly, a thin layer of ice encased the man's feet, and Aldez shouted in victory. Maeve tried to use hers as well but nothing was happening. Then a gunshot rang out.

Maeve jumped in her sleep, smacking the side of her face against the rough wood of the door she was leaning against. Ignoring the pain, she glanced around her, trying to remember where she was and why her sister wasn't next to her. A wave of panic washed through her and she tried to shake the cobwebs from her muddled brain. Finally memories from the past month came rushing back, the death of her parents and her separation from her sister. The memories still haunted her but she couldn't bring herself to face it just yet. She pulled her legs up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them, blocking out the cold wind.

She was trying desperately to stay awake this time, not wanting to dream anymore, when a rough, calloused hand reached out of the shadows and grabbed her left arm. She looked into his cold, glazed stare and a terrified scream escaped her lips. She used both arms to try and push him away from her but he dragged her to her feet and into the darkened alley.

"Ah, fresh meat." His voice was slurred and the smell of whiskey washed off of him in waves.

"Let me go!" She screamed, trying to pry his fingers from her arm but his grip was too tight. She kicked out at him with her feet and made contact with his knee. His leg buckled underneath him and he lost his footing, releasing her to steady himself. She turned around but he reached out and grabbed her ankle, pulling her toward him. She hit the ground with a hard thud. He crawled over to her and pulled out a gun.

"Now look here missy-" he never got to finish his words as two hands grasped him by the shoulders and hauled him off of Maeve. He was thrown up against the wall, but in his drunken state he didn't even seem to register the pain. Instead he brought his gun up to fire at the stranger. The drunk man couldn't keep his hand steady and when he was just about to pull the trigger, a loud crack sounded and he slumped over dead.

Maeve flinched and scrambled to her feet, bent on getting out of there as fast as she could. Her heart was racing and she closed her eyes against the site of impending death barreling towards her in the form of a drunken old man. She would never find her sister and death would find her alone here on the city streets.

A strong arm grasped her around the waist, lifting her off the ground and pushing her up against the wall. His arm came across her chest to hold her there. She kicked and screamed but his hold only tightened.

He covered her mouth with his hand and whispered, "Hush, wouldn't want to wake up any more drunks now would we?" He paused to see if that sank in and then continued. "We have to get out of here but you're going to have to trust me. I can keep you safe. Okay?"

She looked up into the eyes of a handsome blue-eyed man. It was dark but she could tell that his hair was black and his skin almost as pale as her own. He was about a foot taller then she and had a charming smile that could warm even the coldest heart. She was lost in his eyes and merely nodded.

He had the gun pressed up against her side and she looked down at it wearily before looking back up to meet his unwavering gaze. He looked down to see what had frightened her and noticed that he still had his gun drawn. He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulder, slowly releasing his grip on her. When he was sure that she wasn't going to run, he tucked the gun away back inside his belt. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "Trust me. I'm not going to hurt you."

Before she could reply he had taken her by the hand and was leading her off down the street. She fought to steady her quivering legs, the uneven brick streets making it even harder not to stumble. Several police cars drove past them and the young man pulled Maeve farther into the shadows. Maeve's heart was still racing and her mind couldn't quite grasp all that had just happened. Numbly, she let him pull her along and just prayed that he wasn't about to do away with her also.

He led her to an old apartment complex, and took her up several flights of stairs to the fifth floor. There he unlocked the door to apartment number 42 and pushed it open. He took her by the shoulders and led her over to the couch. He pushed her down on it and went into the kitchen. He came back carrying a glass of water.

"Here, drink this," he said, handing her the glass.

Maeve took it from him and quickly gulped it down.

"My name is Harry by the way. Harry Chalmers. What's yours?" He asked, sitting down on the coffee table across from her.

Several long moments passed before Harry prodded her once more, "I gotta something to call you by. Unless you just want me to call you carrot top."

"Maeve," she answered, her eyes following his every move. He hadn't earned her trust yet and she was still a little wary of him. He did save her life but he also took one in order to do it. She gulped.

"He was about to pull the trigger, I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think there was any other choice. Besides, old Joe had it coming. He's been terrorizing women around here long enough." Harry said, trying to ease her fears.

"Why did you run then?" Maeve asked.

Harry stood up, wincing a little. "Well, you see the law isn't exactly on my side. I mean look around at this place? It's not exactly a mansion. What I do to live here isn't exactly legal."

"What do you do then?"

"I steal things for a living. It's the only way to make a buck. To survive. You come from the wrong side of the tracks around here and there is no hope for you making it in the business world. But I'm sure you have experienced that first hand."

Maeve nodded, and didn't answer him verbally. Inside her head she could hear her father's voice lecturing her on the rights and wrongs of dealing with people outside of the law and becoming one of those individuals. Then again, she didn't want to make him mad. She also didn't want to be kicked back out on the streets. So instead of answering him, she glanced around at the poorly furnished room and the cracking paint on the walls. There were only a couch and one table with a small lamp sitting on the floor and an overhead light. There was one door leading off to what Maeve guessed was the bedroom. Then there was the kitchen which didn't look all that clean either.

"How long have you been out there on the streets?"

"I don't know," She shrugged, her voice light and distant. "What day is it?"

"Saturday, September 13," he replied, watching her.

She thought for a moment, "Two weeks."

"Two weeks since what?"

"Since I came here to New York."

"Came from where?" Harry was starting to get a little annoyed.

"From home." Maeve sat the water glass down on the little table and stood up. She smiled uneasily at him, "Thank you for saving my life but I should really be on my way now."

Harry laughed, "Where do you plan on going? Back out on the streets to meet up with another Joe? Hey, I just killed someone for you. That doesn't come without a price."

Maeve's eyes widened and her heart started pounding again. She slowly edged her way around the table, eyeing the front door, her eyes darting back to watch him. Without a word she sprinted for the door. Harry was quicker though and he caught her.

"Hey, wait, I told you I wasn't going to hurt you. Stay here for the night and we‘ll work something out in the morning. This is better then anything the street has to offer." Harry smiled down at her. "

Maeve nodded at him, knowing that he was right and having no desire to go back out there on those streets. The thought of staying out there in the dark for another moment sent shivers racing up and down her spine. Harry led her back over to the couch and sat her down again.

"I'll even be a gentlemen and clean my room and let you have the bed. I'll take the couch. At least that way I'll know if you sneak out on me." He winked at her and walked into the bedroom.

Later that night as she lay asleep in bed, her dreams returned to that night and the weeks that followed it. She could still feel the terror of watching her parents being murdered, and could still hear his heavy footsteps running behind them. The money, he wanted the money. Neither she nor her sister knew what that meant. They had almost made it to the stairs when he grabbed Aldez, holding her and shouting for answers they couldn't give. He aimed the gun at Maeve, intending on firing if Aldez didn't answered. Aldez waved her hands toward the gun and a few ice cycles shot out, encasing the gun and his hand in ice. Shocked, he let her go and they continued to run. They left their home and ran to the docks. The cold night air prickled her skin like a thousand little needles. Aldez was in front of her and they could hear his angry footsteps right behind them. She screamed something at Aldez but even her own words were unclear to her.

An old battered trunk came into view and Maeve glanced over her shoulder but couldn't see the man. She opened the lid and motioned for Aldez to climb inside. Just as the lid closed, they heard him run by, muttering something and yelling to people around the boat docks. Then the trunk was moving.

They had removed them from the trunk and it was dark again. She couldn't see anything and it was hard to breathe in the confines of the ship's brig. She could hear her sister's erratic breathing and she wondered if they would survive the night. Then the door to their cell opened and a shaft of bright light pierced the darkness around them and Aldez was plucked from her side. She cried out but the men merely laughed and hauled her out also. When her eyes adjusted to the harsh glare of the morning sun, she saw her sister turning one man into a block of ice. The men had become angry and lifted Aldez, throwing her off the side of the boat. Angry and hurt, Maeve lashed out, with her arms stretched out in front of her she lunged for the man. To her surprise a fireball formed in her hand and flew through the air and hit one of the sails.

Maeve woke up from her dream screaming out her sister's name. Harry rushed in, his gun drawn and his eyes darting wildly around the room.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice a little groggy from just being pulled from his sleep.

Maeve was sitting up in bed, looking around her, "Where am I?" she croaked.

Harry put the gun away and perched next to her on the side of the bed. His voice was soft when he spoke. "You're at my apartment, remember?"

She nodded.

"It's almost eight o'clock. Time to get up anyway. Get dressed and come into the kitchen. We can talk while I make us some breakfast," he patted her knee and stood up, leaving the room.

When Maeve entered the kitchen, Harry had switched on the radio and was listening to a morning drama being acted out while popping some toast into the oven. She had put her dress back on, but was kind of choking from the smell. She had never felt so dirty in her life, and she was a little ashamed to even meet his gaze.

Harry glanced her way briefly before pulling two plates out of the cabinets above his head and placing them on the counter. "I'll run into town and pick you up some things later. Get you out of that ragged old thing. Where did you get it anyway?"

"Out of a trunk I was hiding in."

"You were hiding in a trunk? Where?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"On a boat."

"Okay, why were you on a boat?"

Maeve didn't reply, looking down at the floor and anywhere but at Harry.

"You know it helps when the other person you're talking to elaborates on what the're being asked, and participates in the conversation." Harry smirked.

Maeve let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes.

"So let's test this out and see if you caught on," Harry said, looking up from his toast making long enough to catch her glaring at him. He chuckled, "Where are your parents? And who is this Aldez person?"

Maeve's eyes darkened and she turned away from him. She didn't say anything for a long time. Her mind replaying the events that those words were associated with. When she finally answered her voice caught in her throat. "They are dead. Aldez is my twin and no, I'm not elaborating."

Harry nodded, "Fair enough. A twin, huh? She died also? On the boat?"

"Yes, well, they say she is but I don't believe it and I thought I said I wasn't elaborating?"

Harry chuckled again and popped the toast out of the oven. "Butter? Jam?"

"Both," she stated, staring at the two pieces of toast.

"Been a while since you ate huh?"

She merely nodded. He handed her the plate and watched her inhale both slices in a record-breaking thirty seconds. He couldn't help but smile.

"What?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Nothing, nothing at all," Harry said, putting his hands up in surrender. "Anyway, down to business. You owe me one life. A night's sleep and a shower. Oh and two slices of bread."

"Are you serious?"

"Completely. How else am I going to get you to agree to stay here and be my partner? We have a lot of work to do."

"Partner? I don't think so," Maeve said, shaking her head.

"You have something against what I do?"

"Slightly. I know what it's like having something you hold dear stolen from you out of the blue. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." Maeve said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We aren't talking murder here, just a pocket here and there, maybe a painting. Well, if we hit the big touch, then you would be set for life. Or maybe you could just be the decoy. Something tells me you would make a good one."

He was rewarded with another glare for that last comment. He continued on trying to persuade her. "Think about it, very little is required. Just guts. And somehow I think buried underneath that Irish temper is someone with a very strong will. I'm a good judge of character." He smiled at her but her glare was firmly in place. His smile faded and he grew serious once more. "The most important thing is that you will be off the streets. You'll be working the streets in a stealing kind of capacity but at least you won't be sleeping on them. And you will have food, and clothes." He paused for a moment.

"I'm listening."

"Okay, think about it this way. What has life given you? A rotten hand I say. This way you aren't waiting for the hand to be dealt, you will be taking it for yourself. Picking and choosing your own fate." He pauses for a moment and thinks. "Or look at it this way, either join me or stay here and starve on the streets. Or worse, be killed by one of those drunken men who were wandering around last night." He waited for a beat and then added, "Besides what else are you going to do?"

Maeve chewed her bottom lip, weighing her options. She couldn't live on the streets forever and she had already found that the merchants around here didn't hire homeless orphans off the streets.

"I need to find my sister," she mumbled to herself. The rescue teams at the docks had informed her that there were no other survivors than those that were on the boats. Maeve didn't believe them, she would know if her sister was dead. She had grown up being taught good morals, and she could almost see her father's disapproving gaze at her even thinking of teaming up with a con man. However, spending any more time on the streets could prove to be hazardous to her health. Sooner or later she knew that her luck would run out, and she would come face to face with another cold-blooded killer intent on spilling her blood.

"Fine, you have a deal." She nodded her head, accepting what was being offered to her and praying that she wasn't making a big mistake.

"Okay, look, this is all you have to do. Just watch your surroundings, pick out a person who isn't too observant." Harry looked around for a moment and then pointed to a man wearing a black hat. He was having an intense conversation with two other men. "Look, see those men over there? Completely oblivious. They aren't even paying attention to the fact that they are blocking the sidewalk and ticking off several hot headed New Yorkers by making them walk in the streets."

She followed his gaze and watched the men, nodding her understanding. Maeve appeared to be calm but inside she was shaking like a leaf. This was the last thing she wanted to do. "Survival of the fittest," is what Harry called it, and Maeve just kept reminding herself of it. "This is the only choice life has given you, take it or die on the streets." She thought to herself bitterly, recalling Harry's words.

"Now just remember what I taught you and go for it!" Harry pushed her forward and she stumbled a little.

Squaring her shoulders, she confidently set out to do what needed to be done. "You're doing this for room and board, nothing wrong with that." She grumbled to herself. Deep inside the guilt ate away at her soul but she was able to push it back just far enough to do what she thought she had to do.

She looked around and her gaze fell on the window display of a woman's clothing shop. An idea struck her and she went with it, pretending to be in complete awe of the dress before her with its low waist line and extremely ugly floral design. She was so engrossed in her observation that she bumped into the back of the businessman.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" She cried out, moving around him, she had quickly lifted his wallet on impact, and was now holding it in her hands behind her back. She smiled sweetly at the man, and he tipped his hat.

"No problem miss, guess it's my fault for standing in front of the display!" The man turned away from her and continued his conversation with the other men.

Maeve nodded and turned on her heel to walk back to Harry, but she tripped over her own feet, and landed on the ground with a small yelp. The wallet went sliding across the pavement. From around the corner Harry was banging his head against the wall.

The men turned around to see what had made the little yelping noise. The man looked down at Maeve, and saw his wallet lying on the ground. His hands went immediately to his back pockets to make sure that it was indeed his wallet that was laying there.

"Hey! She lifted my wallet!" He bent down to grab a hold of Maeve's arm to stop her from fleeing.

Fear clutched at Maeve's stomach and she fought in his grasp, "Please, let me go! I had no other choice!"

"And my choice is to what? Let all the ruffians in the world have a chance at my well-earned money! Police!"

She struggled to pry his hand from her arm but he wouldn't budge. Desperately, she held out her left hand and prayed that for once her powers would work. A small round ball of flame appeared, and she burned the man's hand with it. He howled in pain and released her. She quickly scrambled to her feet and dashed off down the street.

Maeve glanced over her shoulder to see if any of the men were following her. They were but she was a ways ahead of them. She was running by an alley when a hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her towards them. She came face to face with a very worried Harry.

"What the hell was that back there and why didn't you just fry that drunk the other night?" Harry waved his arms around a little, pacing back and forth.

She wrenched her arm from his grasp and glared at him, "Because! Usually I can't get it to work on command!" She huffed angrily, stalking off.

"Well, I guess that would make sense," Harry said, shrugging. He jogged to catch up with her. "So what? You're like all those other *freaks*? Born with unusual powers, or talents?

"That was a nice try though, beautiful delivery... we just need to work on your exit." He smiled at her, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Six months had passed and Harry had kept his word. She had a roof over her head, clothes and food. For the first time since she ran from Ireland, she felt safe. Secure in the fact that she belonged somewhere.

Harry had been teaching her the tricks of the trade, and so far Maeve had proved to be quite good. She often thought about Aldez and it was that thought alone that drove her forward. Harry insisted that this life was the only answer to getting the money she needed to establish a life for herself and to find her sister. From what Maeve had seen in these last months she was inclined to believe him. Harry also constantly reminded her that she owed him. She did feel somewhat indebted to him. Because of him, she had come out a stronger person and capable of fending for herself.

Harry had also taught her the finer points of breaking and entering. One of Harry's favorite things to do was steal art from wealthy art dealers. Today he planned to hit the home of one Jonathan Cruiz.

He laid out a sketch of the place in front of them, "here is our entrance." Harry explained, pointing to a window on the third story. "No, one sleeps up there and they shouldn't hear the noise from downstairs." Maeve winced at the thought of once again breaking into another person's home while they slept. Coming out she always felt like she was no better then the man who had broken into her own home almost eight months ago. She quickly pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand. There was no time to be living in the past.

"Where did you get these sketches from and all this information?"

"I told you. I have friends in high places." Harry replied, "Now pay attention. After we get in, I'm going to the second floor. There is a room there with art on display. I have a painting to steal. Rumor has it that an office is located on the first floor with two thousand dollars worth of diamonds in it. That's your goal." Harry said, pointing out which room it would be on the map.

Lightning lit up the night sky, guiding them through the trees that outlined the back of the Cruiz estate. At the far corner, Maeve made a fireball and melted the bars of the iron fence, making a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. Once on the other side, Harry pointed up at the balcony on the left side of the house and Maeve nodded. Slowly and carefully they made their way towards it.

They had barely made it half way there when they heard the dogs approaching.

"Maeve! Do something!" Harry hissed.

"I am not going to torch some dogs!" Maeve cried.

"If you don't then they'll be having us for dinner!'

Maeve rolled her eyes and sighed. Already the house was waking up. "How badly do you want that painting?"

"Badly. Come on Maeve, I know you don't enjoy this as much as I do but just think of what we could do with this money. Maybe we could take a small break and search for that sister of yours."

That was all Maeve needed to hear. She glanced over her shoulder to see that the dogs were gaining on them. She stopped and held out her hand. Once again a little ball of flame appeared. She threw it in front of her and a wall of fire separated them from the dogs, catching a wooden shed on fire. "Oops." She shrugged, "Sorry guys but my sister comes first."

Harry nodded, mildly impressed, "you're getting better."

"The more I use it the stronger it gets." She replied, shrugging.

With the whole house distracted by the flames, Maeve and Harry made their way to the side of the house where the balcony was. "See why I need you Maeve? Good for a distraction." Harry smiled.

"Yeah yea yeah." Maeve replied, rolling her eyes and waiting for Harry to throw the hook with the string attached up to the third floor balcony. Shielded by the side of the house, the two of them climbed effortlessly up the rope one at a time.

With the distraction in place outside, the home was completely empty. They descended the stairs and Harry left her at the second floor to sneak into the Art Room, while she continued down to the first level where the office was located. At the bottom of the stairs was a door, and Maeve pushed it open, and found herself standing in a very elegant looking office with marble furniture. She kneeled down by the safe and put her head to lock. Slowly she twisted the dial, listening for the clicking noises. When she was sure she had the right numbers, she twisted the dial, stopping on the correct ones and opened the safe. She reached inside and pocketed a couple hundred buck and was just picking up a bag full of diamonds when a voice startled her from behind, "You know this line of work is only going to get you killed."

Maeve jumped, making a startled yelping noise and turned around to find a girl standing there, no older then herself, with big brown eyes and wearing a soft blue nightgown. Maeve stared at her in confusion for several long minutes, completely lost for words and that was unusual for her.

"Staying with Harry isn't getting you where you want to be. Your sister is farther north you know," Her brow furrowed and she thought for a moment. "Although the location is kind of unclear. But the image of you lying dead with a hole in your chest is quite clear to me though."

"How do you know Harry?" Maeve asked, totally astonished. "You've seen my sister?"

"Your mind, you were thinking about him. You think that you owe him this since he saved your life. Then you remember your family and you hate yourself for what you do. Then you argue with yourself that at least you have a roof over your head. The thought of your sister however I sense is always present in your mind and in your heart." The girl made her speech without any hint of emotion on her face. "My name is Haley by the way. Haley Cruiz. It's nice to meet you Maeve." For the first time she smiled.

"What are you?"

"You know just as well as everyone else in this world. I'm just like you, a variant but born with a different power." Haley said.

"What exactly is that power?" Maeve asked, a little curious.

"I can see into your mind, see the decisions that you are going to make and the consequences surrounding them. And let me tell you, Harry is a bad decision to stick with."

An loud noise started buzzing through the house and Maeve jumped again, startled by the noise. "What was that?"

"That would be the alarm in the Art Room." Haley replied, turning her nose up in the air and putting on a snobby British accent. She looked down at Maeve and laughed. "Harry isn't so good after all. But you better get moving. The fire department is already on their way with the police I'm sure and now they won't just be looking at lightning for the probable cause of the fire."

Maeve and stood to leave but Haley stopped her by reaching out to place her hand on Maeve's shoulder. "But before you go there is just one thing, just to make sure you don't go back to Harry out of some sense of you owing it to him."

There was a flash of bright light and Maeve was sent spiraling into another state of being. A series of images assaulted her and she flinched backwards, trying to move away from the cause but Haley went with her keeping the connection. The images were hazy but she could see herself in another mansion. It was dark and she was moving slowly through the house. She looked to be a little older. This time she was with Harry. They had just made it into the art room when an alarm was tripped off. Harry grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her back the way they came. A man stepped in front of them holding a shotgun. Two loud shots rang out, one hitting Harry and the other hitting her square in the chest. Another flash of light and the images shifted. She was on a bus bound for Coney Island. The scene lasted only a minute before they changed again and she saw her sister. The two of them were hugging. They were at a carnival of some sort. Then everything faded to black.

Maeve reached out to steady herself against the desk. She looked up at Haley.

"Now keep in mind these are only brief images of things that will happen with the choices that you make. Nothing is really set in stone and most of what you see may never really happen. They just could if you stick on this path. Even if you change your life some elements could stay the same depending on how far off the path you go. It just depends." Haley warned her.

"How do I know that's really going to happen?" She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, you could go back to Harry and get killed later on, or you can just get on the bus! Because without a doubt she will be waiting for you when it stops at Coney Island."

The sound of the front door being thrown back against its hinges vibrated throughout the whole mansion. An older man's gruff voice demanding answers from a scoundral on the stairs rang loud in clear on the first floor.

"Maeve!" Harry shouted.

Maeve pushed herself off of the desk and ran out into the hall to find Harry struggling with another man. They were wrestling over a small handgun.

"Haley! Get back into the study!" The man shouted, looking at his daughter. Haley didn't move from her position in the door.

"Maeve! Use your powers!"

Those same words uttered by her father echoed through her mind and she hesitated. Memories of another man who had broken into their home flashed in her eyes. The death of her parents. Deaths that occurred by an act so similar to the one she was doing right now. Guilt churned inside her stomach and for the first time in six months she let herself really think about what it was that she was doing. Nothing in the world was worth inflicting so much pain on other people. Regardless of what they had and she lacked.

She shook her head. "I can't. I wont." She whispered.

His eyes met hers and they were cold and deadly. "I thought I could count on you. After all that I have taught you?" He paused for a moment, "I wont forget this." He gave Jonathon Cruiz one more hard push and wrestled the gun from the man's hand.

Maeve watched as he aimed the weapon at Haley's father and a sickening feeling welled up inside her. She no longer saw the strange man standing in front of her, but she saw the image of her own father. Acting on instinct, she formed a fireball in her hand and hurled it towards Harry's arm.

"Gosh darn it! Maeve! Not my favorite jacket!" He yanked the sleeves off of his arms and threw it on the floor, using his feet to put the flames out. By the time he looked up again a swarm of policemen had gathered in the house.

Two hands seized Maeve by the shoulders, and pushed her to the ground. She struggled against their hold, but they applied more force. Her hands were roughly pulled behind her back and cuffed, effectively preventing her from using her powers.

"Police! Get down on the ground!"

Maeve looked up from her position on the ground to see Harry being handled in the same fashion. Tears sprang to her eyes. She had no idea what was going to happen to her. Following Harry hadn't led her anywhere close to her sister. In fact it had just set her further back.

Haley kneeled down next to Maeve, placing her hand on her shoulder, and whispered in her ear, "don't worry, everything will work out okay in the end and before you know it, you'll be on the right path."

Once again Maeve was sent into that strange state of being. More images assaulted her mind. One of Haley talking her father. Telling him that Maeve was the same age as she. An impressionable 15 year old, influenced by someone older, someone who made her feel secure in a world where she was all alone. While that didn't make what she did right, she still deserved a second chance at a life. One not lived behind bars. Finally her father nods in agreement, and agrees to drops the charges against Maeve. There is a flash of light and the images change. Maeve sees herself sitting on a cement bench. Thinking about the past year, and vowing to stay out of trouble. Then the guards come, and Haley is there with her father. A flash of light again, now she sees herself on the bus. She is looking out a window, watching the scenery go by. There is a contented smile on her face. A sign for Coney Island passes by and her smile brightens. Something in her knows that Haley is right. Now she is on the right path.