An Escape from the Chaos (Sean)

[Alanna Darlington]

Alanna found herself wondering aimlessly. At this point she just wanted to get away. She had slept poorly the night before, so many things on her mind, and as a result existing near people was far more irritating than normal today. Her mental barriers were weak and that meant that every nearby thought was grating on her nerves. Being around more than one person was beyond exhausting. 

So she had wandered off. There was no destination, no plan. Just a throbbing headache that commanded her to put some distance between her and everyone. Soon the pain began to subside as she was able to find some of that blissful solitude she so desperately needed. It was only then that she was able to think clearly. 

She hated her power. Truly despised it. How could she ever hope to have a halfway normal life if she couldn't even stand to be near a small group of people? How was she ever supposed to exist outside of Hammel? Sure, she was getting better at controlling her power, some days she almost believed she had a chance at an ordinary life. But then there would come a day like this. A day she didn't feel well, a day she got emotional, a day she was just around too many people for too long. A day that crumbled all that control into nothing and left her feeling just as vulnerable and hopeless as when her power had first manifested. 

There were those who had it worse - she knew that. Yet still... there was a part of her who wished she hadn't been given this particular life. This particular power. Maybe it could be useful, maybe it could be used to do good. But it had brought so much bad into her life too that she wondered if there really was any upside to her ability. 

It was moments like this that where her mind so crowded with her own thoughts that anything more would be entirely overwhelming.

Alanna had been walking aimlessly as her mind ran rampant. It wasn't until she found herself in that familiar spot by the lake that she stopped. She wanted more - she couldn't deny that. She wanted to be able to leave her room without headphones, to sit through classes without getting a headache and overhearing half the thoughts of her bored classmates. Her gaze drifted out over the blessedly deserted lake. More than that even. She wanted friends. She wanted to not feel alone.

Would she ever have that? Could she ever?

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean disliked camping. He was too tall to fit comfortably in a bunk-bed, even in an adult-sized bunk-bed, and he would far prefer to be at home sharing a comfortable bed with Josh in the privacy of their home, as opposed to rooming with three other faculty members in a somewhat drafty cabin at the campsite in New Hampshire.

Still, every year the psychiatrist volunteered to chaperone the annual Hammel retreat. Every year, he disappeared into rural New Hampshire for five days with the students and other staff members, to take a break from school, to provide a change of scenery, and to take on a support role. Also to do a bit of sailing or kayaking if the opportunity presented itself.

As someone who had graduated from Hammel nearly forty years ago, and who had possessed his telepathy for more than forty-five years, Sean had impeccable mental shields. He was also capable of seeking out the minds of others, and he recognized the distress and frustration of a young telepath in need.

After all, once upon a time, he had been that young telepath.

He had donned his jacket and his boots, leaving the staff cabin to find her. He tracked her easily, although it took a while to catch up with her; at fifty-seven, nobody could accuse him of being as spry as he had been in college. Still, he eventually found her at the edge of the lake, and he raised his mental shields to offer her a bit of respite from the onslaught of thoughts.

“It gets easier,” he offered, in lieu of a more traditional greeting, as he came up beside her near the water’s edge.

[Alanna Darlington]

Alanna's mind was ensnared in a tempest of negativity and a familiar hopelessness began to settle over her. Why was she still trying so hard? Wasn't it obvious by now that she couldn't do it? She could never be normal. Anyone she tried to befriend would come to loathe her for her accidental mind-reading and no one would ever want to spend time with someone who couldn't even leave her room most days.

She should really just stop caring. That was the simplest answer. The only reason she got so upset at times like this was because she got her hopes up. Because she still wanted those connections with others. Which was completely ridiculous really. She should just resign herself to her life as a recluse. Stop wanting more. Then it would stop hurting so much every time she was reminded that that was impossible.

It was then that she heard a voice as another came beside her. She glanced up in surprise as she realized the voice belonged to none other than Dr. Neville. Alanna hastily turned away, rubbing her eyes to rid herself of the tears that had begun to form there, hoping that he wouldn't see. It was only then that she dared to tentatively glance up at him together.

"It does?" she asked softly, disbelief in her voice. She knew in theory that things should get easier of course, but so far her life experience had only given her powerful and frequent reminders that far outweighed what she knew should be possible. Even if it could get better... could she really keep trying for that long without going crazy? "How?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean did not impose on her, did not continue staring down at her once she looked away, did not move too close or otherwise infringe upon her personal space. He merely remained where he was, waiting for her to respond. Then she did, and he responded.

“It does.” That the psychiatrist could promise, just as his own trainer had promised him four decades ago. Unlike Robert, Sean did not have the same set of skills; he tracked the psychic students, he checked in with the psychic students to offer emotional support and tips about living as a telepath in a non-psychic world, but he did not train the psychic students. That had never been his forte.

However, he could speak from personal experience. Back when he had been a student at Hammel, he had taken great comfort in hearing about Robert’s trials and tribulations. That always provided him with a sense of solidarity and hope, made him think that life could improve and that maintaining shields and controlling his powers was not the Sisyphusian task he first believed it to be.

“With practice,” he explained, crossing his arms over his chest to ward off the child in the mountain air. “With enough practice, it gets easier to maintain mental shields. Once you have the shields, everything falls into place because you can finally hear yourself think.”

He couldn’t emphasize enough the importance of that blessed peace, when the thoughts of other people stopped beating relentlessly at his mind because he found a way to keep them out.

[Alanna Darlington]

Alanna worried her lip between her teeth for a long moment, unsure how to respond. Usually such assurances were easily discarded. They were given by those who had no experience with a power like hers, and some didn't even know what exactly her power was. She knew it was natural to believe things would get better, that that was the default response to the struggles of another. But when living a life of such difficulty... it was hard to be so optimistic.

Yet... Dr. Neville wasn't like the others. He not only knew of her ability, but he shared it. If anyone knew the truth of her fate, it would be him.

That wasn't entirely fair though. Mr. Wright - well, both of them - encouraged her that things would improve, and she did believe them. She trusted them. It was just that at times like this... it was so easy to believe the worst.

She nodded as he spoke of practice. "I practice a lot," she admitted. "I've gotten better at creating those mental shields but... they're still so easily crumbled..." Her voice trailed off as she sighed softly. She understand what he meant though. Those mental barriers were the key to controlling her power. They were just so difficult... Sometimes, Alanna wondered if she was just stupid. If she struggled with things that should be simple. Her trainers had never been anything but patient and kind to her, but she looked around at her classmates and found herself wondering why no one else seemed to struggle so much. Were they all better at hiding it or was it really just her?

Alanna looked up at the school psychiatrist once more. "Was it this hard for you? When you were my age?"

[Dr. Sean Neville]

“I’m sure you do.” Sean did not need to be informed of that, simply because he had lived that same experience. When telepathy was uncontrolled, the telepath in question suffered. They suffered physically due to fatigue and pain, they suffered psychologically due to the constant barrage of thoughts and often the inability to sleep which took both a physical and psychological toll as well, they suffered emotionally because they were often ill-prepared for what they learned through telepathy, and they suffered socially because their peers judged them for what they could not control, and because the world around them was not created for telepaths. Any telepath with even a shred of self-preservation would do everything in her power to learn control and to deafen the noise. “They take a long time to master, and, even then, they’ll always take less to deconstruct than to construct, because it takes energy and focus to build or to sustain something.”

He thought for a moment and then said, “I don’t know if you’ve ever met someone with crossed eyes before. If you haven’t, someone who has that sees in two different directions, and they get vision therapy to learn to train their eyes the way most of us see without thought or effort. Eventually, after enough vision therapy, someone with crossed eyes learns to correct their vision without much thought, even if it’s never their default. Mental shields are like that. The more you work on them, the easier it gets to build and maintain them, and it eventually becomes close to reflexive. You wake up and you shield, or you get ready to leave the house, and you shield; it becomes routine.”

Sean shifted his gaze, looking down into her eyes when she turned back towards him. “At your age? No, but I manifested when I was twelve, and so I had another two years of training under my belt.” He also had to contend with a secondary power that created havoc in its own right, but it proved less chaotic than the ever-present telepathic barrage. He then shook his head to himself, caught up in reminiscing about his time at Hammel. “But when I was fourteen? I was a walking migraine, and everything was always so loud.”

[Alanna Darlington]

Alanna nodded as he pointed out the obvious. Controlling her power would always be hard. She would always struggle to maintain control, to keep her own thoughts seperate. Sometimes she still lost herself in the swarm of thoughts that barraged her, especially at school. There were always people around, crowded way too close. If her barriers crumbled... well, there was little hope for her then. Once her shields began to crack, it was nearly impossible to rebeuild them.

At first his talk about vision therapy seemed... well, a little off topic honestly, but then she began to understand. It was a small relief to learn that one day it could become second nature, even if someday seemed an infinity away more often than not. "I wish getting to that point was faster," she admitted softly. He probably already knew she felt that way - after all, how could someone with this power feel any different? It was torture more often than not.

Her green eyes met his, curiosity in their depths as he began to speak. When he said no, her heart dropped - so there was something wrong with her - but as as he explained, she began to feel a little better. She had manifested rather late really, compared to most people. And telepathy was a difficult power to master after all. She almost smiled as he admitted that when he had only had 2 years of training he had been just where she was. "That's exactly it," she agreed, her voice sounding almost joyful. After all, if you had to be miserable, it was always better to not be alone in it.

"How did you manage to get through your classes?" she asked after a slight pause, her voice more serious, but edged with that same curiosity. Finally she had the chance to talk to someone who had gone through what she was and could give her real answers. She wasn't about to waste such an opportunity. "There are just so many people all at once... I can barely focus on my own thoughts let alone on what the teacher is saying." Honestly, dealing with classes was probably one of her biggest struggles. "And the cafeteria! It always seems to be so crowded. Usually by the time I manage to get my food, my migraine is so bad I can hardly stand to eat it."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Sean wanted to provide her with a sense of hope, since he was living proof that one did eventually learn to control telepathy and adjust one’s life accordingly. It had been so difficult as a student, but he had managed to learn and to graduate and then to live his life for nearly forty years outside of Hammel.

The psychiatrist shrugged slightly. “What other options were there?” He knew that the question could sound glib, but he meant it strictly as a matter of pragmatism. He either forced himself to absorb Robert’s lessons to the fullest or else he would have spent the rest of his life at Hammel. Since it would have been for powers and not for grades, he would not have been able to venture far from the school, which would have meant additional years stuck in Pilot Ridge, long before Vermont had become liberal and before the advent of modern communication technology.

Realizing that this was not the most helpful answer, he moved on to practical tips. “I tried to eat during off times in the cafeteria, to buy myself a bit of privacy. Back then, we weren’t allowed to eat in our dorm rooms, so you have an advantage there.” Not a social advantage, but one that made coping a bit easier if the cafeteria truly proved too intense.

“Do you get on with your trainer?” That was key. Without Robert, Sean never would have made it as far as he had.