Reagan Economics

A Lesson in Telekinesis

Saturday night at the hospital psych unit was unusually quiet. Considering it was also a full moon, it was scarily quiet. In the medical field, there are two words you never said out loud. They were quiet and bored. Say either one of these out loud and your coworkers may decapitate you, no questions asked.

Needless to say, I only thought the word quiet. I never said it out loud. I needed it to be like this. It gave me more time to spend with Jeremy.

Tonight, we finished building my mental defenses. Jeremy tried attacking them repeatedly to find a weak point, but found none.

"Exo, your shields are impenetrable to the likes of me, but there are those much stronger our there. You must practice at keeping your shields up at all times. The more you do it, the stronger your shields will become."

I asked Jeremy about others like us. What other different types of psychics existed?

"Besides Empaths, Empties, and Futurists like me, I only know of a few more."

He told me about three different ones. His description of a type that could put thoughts in people's heads gave me goosebumps. He called them Pushers and regarded them as extremely dangerous.

Another type of psychic, he called Feelers, could feel other people's physical sensations and pain. He said that most of these go insane by their mid twenties and either committed suicide or heavily self medicated themselves into oblivion.

He spoke of a very rare psychic that could move objects with telekinesis. He called these Tellies. "I have never met one before in person. I only know of their existence," he told me. "There is said to be a few psychics that fit into more than one of these descriptions. I believe you are one of those."

"Why do you think that?" I asked .

"Because I have literally seen parts of your future and you are far more than just a ....."

The door suddenly flew open and Lisa was on the other side. Her eyes were wide and she looked a little pale. "Exo, we need your help in room 203B!"

I followed Lisa to the closed door of 203B. You could hear a female voice shrieking inside.

"The nurse's assistant is in there and she can't get out. There is something against the door!" Lisa yelled.

Turning the knob and pushing against the door, I found that I could barely move it. The screams coming from inside the room were escalating. My adrenaline was pumping as I told Lisa to get back.

Slamming into the door with all of my body weight, I managed to open it about six inches. It was enough for me to see a bed side commode wedged between the door and the cabinet.

The nurse's assistant inside screamed .

          TERROR          REPULSION

I concentrated on putting all of my force against the door. I strained so hard, I felt lightheaded and all I could think was I had to move this thing, so I could open this door. I couldn't let this woman be hurt.

Suddenly, it felt like something had popped loose in my brain. I heard a rattling sound between my ears, then a scraping sound from inside the room.

The door abruptly gave way and I fell through it, stumbling over the bedside commode that was now two feet away.

When I looked up, the vision that was burned into my retinas was disgusting. Melissa, the nurse's assistant had herself squashed between the patient's bed and the wall in an effort to protect herself.

The patient was Allen. He was a sixty-two year old man with a history of schizophrenia. Allen was currently naked except for his socks and had obviously crapped in the floor and then picked it up. That was not what was so disturbing. The shocking thing was, he was using his own excrement as lubricant to manually stimulate himself.