[ WP ] You have been able to read minds your entire life . One day , in a fast food restaurant , and you 're casually reading someone 's mind . However , to your surprise , they furrow their brow , look at you angrily , and say , `` Stop that ! ''

Imagine a hammer slamming down on top of your skull, attempting to break through. Imagine every moment it keeps pounding at you trying to leave its mark. The hammering continues to push harder and harder but never breaking skin, much less the bone underneath. 
 
 I ca n't think straight anymore. Every moment of concentration is lost by another distraction. Another idea just pops into my head from an unknown source and I am spent with the next hour feeling it reverberate nauseatingly through me until another one willingly takes its place. The thoughts are never my own, and the voices are never ones I recognize. 
 
 I am a mind reader. It's a rare, but sadly incurable trait that has been passed down through the maternal side of my family for generations. A mother unto a daughter, unto a daughter since ancient times. Some matriarchs in my ancestry were able to use this power to achieve great things. Their wisdom and counsel would allow their partners to achieve great wealth and power. Some generations found their powers revealed to the general public and a hunt for sorcery caused them to be exiled, or otherwise punished for the sinful trait. 
 
 In the modern generation of things, often I feel I am being punished in a much more passive and cruel way. After all I have to sit here and listen to the ramblings of the old man in the corner, sipping on a cup of coffee and making rude remarks about the high school aged cashier of the local Starbucks. I listen to the pretentiousness of the college student sipping on their Caramel Mocha about the insanity of other students for their lack of understanding semicolons. There is a special place for those who use semicolons in a creative writing assignment; that special place is literally hell. 
 
 Explaining the plight to my friends has become useless as well. When I explain I could n't sleep at night because I could hear the whispering mind of a lady walking her dog at 2AM, they believe I was simply dreaming or just hearing things. Many of my friends do n't even believe it's a real disorder that I have. I have been asked by others whether or not I have been diagnosed with a form of schizophrenia and just believe in all of this. 
 
 The rest of my friends have expressed jealousy and wish they could have such a cool ability. It seems great on paper. When I first learned of the family trait it filled me with excitement. I was really looking forward to the day that I would be able to truly understand the depth of another person's mind and thoughts. It seemed exciting, and I imagined that it could help as a career path toward criminal psychology, or at the worst case scenario I would be a damn convincing fortune teller on an east coast boardwalk. Sadly, both for myself and the sake of the stories which I tell my friends, the reality is that a lot of the thoughts I come across are n't as interesting as we like to believe them to be. Most of the things we tend to think about are n't as interesting to another outside perspective. 
 
 The true problem is a power like this does not simply contain the off switch it needs and sometimes, without realizing it I simply delve into the minds of others almost unknowingly. If it was n't for the voices being so distinct and unlike mine, half the time I probably would n't realize these thoughts are any but my own. I guess to give us the security that there is some sanity to this gift. A common courtesy from the genealogical traits I carry. 
 
 My coffee cup is empty. I suck the air out of the straw and move it around, hoping that there are a few drops left, but amidst the distractions of everyone else, I became less and less aware of my own time and place. Time to go buy another coffee I suppose. 
 
 I reach the counter and begin to place my order. Vanilla Soymilk Latte, as per usual. I see the cashier put the order in without even asking me. I've come to this coffee shop for people watching enough times, she clearly remembers it by now. 
 
 `` Will that be all?'' Asked the young cashier. I listen to the monotonous clicks of the touch screen. 
 
 Of course, I thought. She rings up the total and I offer her the money. Suddenly a voice comes ringing through my head. 
 
 `` She seems rather out of it today.'' 
 
 Am I that noticeable to others? When you read the minds of others, I suppose it's really hard to save your own face. Half the time I do n't even know what I'm thinking. 
 
 `` Stop that!'' the same voice shouts. That was the cashier. What is she asking me to stop? Or is it something else? I begin to inspect her mind further. 
 
 `` Get out!'' the voice demands. I become more confused. 
 
 `` Hey!'' Shouts the cashier. I look at her, a bit shocked and apologize. 
 
 She realized I was reading her thoughts after all? That does n't seem likely. Nobody else can read thoughts like I do. I've never seen it before. 
 
 She hands me the coffee. 
 
 `` Next time, knock on the door. Do n't just walk in unannounced. That's bad manners.'' She remarks casually. 
 
 `` What do you mean?'' I ask her cryptically, afraid to listen to her thoughts any futher. She simply says nothing and walks away. 
 
 I return to my seat, a bit distraught. My mind begins to shut down completely and the voices just begin to roam freely. I can hear many thoughts, but I have become too unfocused to really discern them this time. All I can hear is her voice, shouting back at me `` Stop that!'' and if anyone else has ever noticed this, but been too shy or uncertain who their mind was speaking to. 
 
 The voices become more and more silent, and for the first time I can clear my mind almost entirely of them. It's peaceful for a moment and I feel as if I could drift off into a dream state where I do n't have to listen to others and can simply find my own mind once again. I follow the silence of it toward my desired salvation. I feel my body fall forward and collapse. 
 
 `` How do you feel?'' A voice asks me inquisitively. 
 `` Relaxed. Calmed.'' I reply. 
 `` Open your eyes.'' The voice commands. I blink for a second and raise my head from a couch. I see my friend in a chair beside the couch I am laying on. He is scribbling something down on a piece of paper on the clipboard. 
 
 `` I'm sorry Sophia, but time is up today. Tell me more about the gift next week.'' My friend tells me. 
 
 `` I ca n't wait. There is so much more to it.'' I tell my friend. 
 
 `` I'm sure there is. Are you still involved in the psychology program at the university?'' My friend asks. 
 
 `` Of course,'' I smile. `` I want to understand the minds of others in a much better way than this. I want to understand them exactly the way you understand mine.''
