A/N: This is multi chapter story number six, and part of my very first trilogy! I really, really hope you enjoy this.

The teenaged boy hurriedly stuffed his necessities in his ruck sack. He heard his three sisters sleeping peacefully: the eldest in room at the front, to keep watch, and the youngest two in the room just behind the first. His was the room right at the back; and it was the scariest in the 'house' too.

He and his sisters lived in a cave. They were orphans, and this was the only place that the memories of their previous care wouldn't come back to them. Because he was the youngest child, and the only male at that, he wasn't gifted with life changing powers. His sisters were the people that got them out of trouble, again and again, and all he was told to do was 'run and don't look back'.

So tonight he was going to follow his sisters' advice. He was sick and tired of being the one that his sisters mocked; sick and tired of having to be saved every time something horrid happened to them. He was going to show them that he could be independent – and he was going to start a new life eventually, if he was lucky.

After putting on his black hoodie and tracksuit bottoms and tying the laces on his black trainers, he slung his bag onto his shoulders. He crept past the doors of every room. At the entrance to the cave, he paused and listened. He listened for any sign of his sisters waking up. Three whole minutes past and there was nothing; not a sound.

So he sighed, tried to toughen himself up, and took a step outside the cave. This was the start to his life of independence. He took a breath and walked. The night was pitch black dark. There was no moon, and only a couple of stars.

It was perfect.

The pathway of the cave split into two after trailing for two kilometres. Before it split, it was surrounded by bushes and trees. The raven haired boy remembered what happened five years ago, when the mocking of his sisters really started. One of the trees looked like some sort of monster, and he remembered that he fashioned an axe out of an old piece of wood. He chopped down the tree and scarpered. When his sisters found him, hiding behind a hedge, they didn't scold him for running away like he thought they would. Oh, no. Instead they jeered at him, and dragged him back to the cave.

Ever since that day, the memories stuck deep in his mind, like someone and used honey to stick them in. He was seventeen now, and still he remembered how scared he was of that particular tree. It made him laugh now, but when he was thirteen, or maybe it was fourteen, he was very ashamed.

He reached the split in the pathway. He stood with his hands in his pockets, brooding on which path to take. The left path was the safest – and the least creepy. It went through the forest. The forest where he and his three sisters used to play together when they were younger; before his sisters' powers developed.

They used to tell him tales about how they ran around in the forest and played tag, how they used to camp out alone at the bottom of the forest, how all their lives were much better than they were now. He sighed, longing for those memories to become a reality again. He wanted to right the relationship between himself and his sisters.

But he couldn't. They had come too far in their mocking ways to back out now. He sighed and shook his head to rid himself of the memories; they wouldn't do him good now that he planning on running away from his only biological family.

He shifted his gaze to the path on the right. The path that led to the graveyard. The graveyard where his mother was buried. His mother died when he was only five, and every year, he was taken there to see the only woman who loved him, according to his middle sister. When he was a little older, at the age of ten, he used to make trips there when he couldn't take any more from his sisters. He used to talk to his mother before breaking down, and sometime he swore he could hear her say, 'hold it out. Don't let your three older siblings bring you down.'

Shaking his head once again, he started to pay attention to the three words swimming around in his mind: forest or graves. Forest or graves? Forest? Or graves? In the end, the graves won his mental battle.

The path on the right was a shortcut, which meant that he'd be further away from his sisters faster. He would be able to pay a quick visit to his mother and tell her what he was doing. The thought of speaking to his mother for the final time (goodness knows when he'd be able to see her again.) spurred him on. He leaped into a run and in a few short minutes he was met with the old and battered gate of the graveyard. His feet ached and protested but he paid them no concern.

He pulled his hood back up again, after it bounced off while he was running. He leant over and unlocked the gate, and pushed it open. He weaved his way through the graves at the front. His mother was buried right in the middle of the yard; his sisters always had to be the centre of attention.

He found the grave where his mother lay. He stood there for a second, and then he dropped to his knees, taking off his ruck sack and putting to one side. He didn't remember her enough to cry over her. However, from what his sisters told him, he felt his memory coming back bit by bit.

"Hi Mum," he whispered. He was only met with silence. "I've come to tell you about my plan. I'm leaving them." He didn't say his sisters' names: he knew his mother would know who he was taking about.

"They've been doing my head in, never letting me be by myself, and they were always, always making fun of me. I hated it so much. So I packed my stuff up and scarpered." After a pause, he sighed.

"I need to go now, Mum. Remember, I love you." He stood back up again and picked up his bag.

He walked away, and after walking at least five feet, he looked back at his mother and sighed. He was almost in tears. He bit his tongue; he couldn't afford to break down now. Before he could though, he ran.

He ran all the way out of the graveyard, and out onto the streets. He was grateful that it had just gone past midnight: the streets were empty. He slowed down, ducking his head. He slipped into a narrow alleyway and walked right to the back. It was deserted, desolate, and he couldn't help but break into a relieved smile.

He set up his sleeping bag and blanket, and sat down. He took off his trainers, and sighed after the pain from walking for so long subsided a little. He leant his back against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping to get to get to sleep. Except, that was not to be.

There was a loud bang, followed by millions of screams. He opened his eyes and was met with something that had not registered on his planning radar all this time.