[ WP ] You have telekinetic abilities and use them quite frequently . But in reality you just summon some sort of entity to move the object for you . These entities are getting sick of your shit .

`` It's getting worse,'' Mrs. Whitehead said. She drummed her fingers against the table, sending a shiver through the teacups and saucers. `` She's hurting herself now.'' 
 
 `` She knocked over her own dresser, mirror shards everywhere,'' Mr. Whitehead said. He pulled down his sleeves and gestured at his own knobbly wrists. `` I heard the noise and burst through the door and she was bleeding everywhere. Gashes, huge gashes.'' He shuddered and buried his head in his hands. `` She swears she's not doing it anymore. But what else could it be?'' 
 
 `` Mm-hm,'' Doctor Vronsky said, eyes opaque behind his glasses. He raised his teacup to his bushy mustache. `` This is quite common. Poltergeists. A violent manifestation of the patient's psychic energy. Certainly, she is not even aware what she is doing. I trust there has been unresolved tension in the home?'' 
 
 `` There's nothing-'' Mrs. Whitehead started to say. 
 
 `` It's my fault,'' Mr. Whitehead moaned. `` I've been pushing her, I wanted her to put her powers to good use. She's just a child! I should n't have -'' 
 
 `` You've done nothing wrong!'' Mrs. Whitehead said quickly. She turned pleadingly to Dr. Vronsky. `` He's done nothing wrong. Nothing that would cause Cassie to...'' She put a hand to her mouth and bit her lip. `` You must believe us. We have n't done anything wrong.'' 
 
 Mr. Whitehead stayed silent and stared blankly into his teacup. 
 
 `` Yes. Well,'' Dr. Vronsky said, rising to his feet. `` I believe it is time for me to see the patient for myself, yes?'' The Whiteheads made no move to rise, Mrs. Whitehead leaning over her husband's and rubbing his bent back. 
 
 `` She's upstairs in her room,'' she said quietly. `` With the maid.'' 
 
 Dr. Vronksy nodded and took his leave and plodded up the staircase, cursing his knees with each step. He stopped outside Cassandra's door and rapped on it twice. `` Cassandra? It's Dr. Vronsky. I'd like to talk with you, if you do n't mind?'' 
 
 The door flew open and the Whiteheads' portly maid rushed out. `` God help you deal with her,'' she muttered as she brushed by Dr. Vronsky and disappeared down the stairs. Dr. Vronsky peeked into the room. 
 
 It looked much different from the last time he had visited Cassandra. Her dresser was gone, of course, the gruesome scratches on the floor marking where it had been. All the picture frames and knickknacks that had hung in her room were missing, the walls redecorated with cracks in the plaster. The glass in her windows was gone as well, newspapers taped over them. Dr. Vronsky glanced upwards and saw that her lamp had been ripped from the ceiling, frayed wires dangling from the jagged hole. Cassandra sat on her bed in the middle of the destruction, heavy bandages wrapped around both arms. 
 
 `` Cassandra,'' he said. `` May I speak with you?'' 
 
 She looked up at him with dark vicious eyes and Dr. Vronsky for a moment felt taken aback. `` They hate me,'' she said. 
 
 `` Who hates you, Cassandra?'' he said, pulling up a chair. 
 
 `` The bogeys. They all hate me now. Every time I wanted them to do something, they'd do it. And now they hate me for it. Is n't that stupid, Dr. Vronsky?'' Her voice seethed. `` If they did n't like listening to me, then why did they do it in the first place?'' 
 
 `` Interesting,'' Dr. Vronsky nodded, making a mental note of the name she had given to her powers. `` And as for you, Cassandra? Do you hate anyone? Are you tired of having to listen to other people?'' 
 
 Cassandra's lip curled up into a sneer. `` You think it's me doing it, do n't you? Just like mommy and daddy. I keep telling them it's the bogeys doing it, but they never listen.'' 
 
 `` Cassandra, please. You have been hurt.'' He gestured at her bandages. `` This situation can not be allowed to continue, do you agree? Regardless of who is responsible for this, you must do your best to stop it. Tell me about these'bogeys'. Perhaps together we can find a way to make them behave.'' 
 
 Cassandra touched the tip of her tongue to her teeth. `` No,'' she said. 
 
 Dr. Vronsky frowned. `` And why not, Cassandra? Were you not happier when these bogeys did not hurt you, when they simply did as you command?'' 
 
 Cassandra collapsed back on the bed, letting her long dark hair spill over the edge. `` It does n't matter if I was happy. They were n't happy. And that's what matters, is n't it?'' She sat back up abruptly, leaning into Dr. Vronsky's face. `` We ca n't both be happy like this. So let's everybody be miserable. That's fair, is n't it?'' 
 
 `` Cassandra,'' Dr. Vronsky said, edging up in his chair. 
 
 `` Doctor,'' Cassandra said. `` Would you like to meet the bogeys?'' 
 
 The newspapered windows were shredded open, the afternoon light bursting through. Cassandra's bed shuddered and crept across the floor, its bedposts shaking and ripping themselves to splinters. Dr. Vronsky barely got to his feet and felt a dozen claws tearing at his chest, digging into his shoulder, dragging him down. He felt his knee give way underneath him and collapsed to the floor, screaming. His shirt was torn open, claw marks gouging into his chest. `` Cassandra!'' There was a voice underneath his own screams, some inhuman chittering shriek that sounded in time to the claws cutting into his flesh. `` Do n't do this! Do n't do this! Cassandra!'' 
 
 `` I do n't care if they hate me,'' Cassandra's voice sounded. Something had slashed across his forehead and his eyes were filling with blood. `` They can hate me all they want. They still have to do what I say.'' 
 
 Dr. Vronsky felt a weight on his chest be yanked off and hurled across the room. More plaster crumbled from the walls. Through the veil of blood he could make out Cassandra, standing now, walking towards him. `` I like you, Dr. Vronsky. You've always been nice to me. That's why the bogeys hate you.'' 
 
 `` Cassandra!'' he moaned. His chest burned. His knee was a throbbing mass of agony. He could hear voices, people rushing up the stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Whitehead. 
 
 `` I really do love my mommy and daddy,'' Cassandra said. Her voice sounded on the verge of tears. Invisible claws snagged at her hair, caught on her skin, made blood pool beneath her dress. `` But we have to be fair! We have to be fair!'' Dr. Vronsky squeezed his eyes shut and heard Mrs. Whitehead screaming. 
 
 `` So let's everybody be miserable together.''
