Prying my eyes open took a fair amount of effort.
The moment that the lids separated, streams to tears trickled down my face onto the cushion.
I went to wipe at my cheek and quickly discovered that I was unable to move.
Paralyzed by the build up painfully sad emotions, I began to sob uncontrollably. 
The feeling of loss had been renewed in the others, for, what I was unaware of, was that a few of them had requested to look outside at what was left and the screen or window was uncovered again.
A vast array of stars twinkled in the distance, our own sun burning considerably brighter.  From the light of Sol, the dark silhouette of what remained of Earth hung in place, the ghost of its former self.
The majority of the chunks of land mass had dispersed to beyond visual range, as though they had been swallowed by the darkness.
Humanity starred out at their home.
Although people had begun to accept what had happened, their hearts mourning peacefully as a result of the gathering a few nights previously, the stark reminder opened up to them at that time was more than most could bear with.
The thoughts of loss and pain caused sadness and anger to ripple out of them and lodge within me.
I blinked through the tears, forcing myself to pick up the metaphorical pebbles of energy and get them moving.
It was a good few minutes before I was able to move at all.  Starting with my fingertips and toes, I began to stretch and twist my appendages, until I was mobile enough to sit up.  I shifted my movement to my back, easing my shoulder blades back and forth, bending side to side until my whole body was at ease.
Sadness continued to overwhelm me, admittedly it took me a little while to realize that it was my own sadness.
I may not have lost as much as everyone else, however I still felt the loss of everything and everyone just as keenly.
I continued sobbing as I put on my glasses, called down the hygiene tube and did my business.  The sponge from yesterday had been replaced, I used it was best as I could to absorb my tears and running nose before using it for its intended purpose.
Using the tap, I cupped my hands full of water and splashed it over my face, the way they did in those facial wash adverts that I genuinely did not believe anyone ever did.  It went all over my top and I had to spend a few minutes bent over under the larger air dryer.
I was still a bit weepy, however I was more or less able to moderate the minor fits of sudden sobbing.
I got dressed, replacing the leggings with my trousers, cursing out loud at the lack of my jeans.  Keeping my strappy top on, I simply wore my big-knit jumper over it, placing the extra clothes and my trainers into the tote bag.  Up to that point I had been given no reason to believe that I would need shoes for the discernable future.
The tharat did not wear shoes, more like thin slippers.
Getting myself a drink of water, I figured out how to call up doctor Deia’s contact information.  There was no ‘call’ button, just a message box to my great relief.  I absolutely cannot stand making phone calls, answering them is marginally easier, however I still do not like doing it.  In quite literally every situation that involves communicating at a distance, I will always choose to send a text or use a messaging app.
Without knowing what the proper greeting for messages or the alternative to saying “good morning”, I kept the message simple.
“Hello, this is Laura MacPhaid, I am awake now.”
It took ten minutes and countless rewrites before I was confident enough to send it out, which is one of the reasons I prefer digital communication, you have the opportunity to consider and alter what you say.  I over think everything and, when speaking, I always get myself very worked up over whether I am saying the right thing in the right way at the right time.  No matter the outcome, I always feel that what I said, could have been said better.
Almost instantly, the console blinked into life with the message “great I’ll be up in a few lals”.
It turned out that the communication system was treated the same as ours; quickly and informally.
I considered putting on a little makeup, however it occurred to me that my concealer, lipsticks and mascara were now a very limited commodity.  Best to use sparingly and at need.
Considering the nature of the person coming to see me, I doubted that they would be concerned with the odd spot, the colour of my lips or whether or not my eyes were framed.
I did, however, decide to brush my hair, as it occurred to me that, before the shower, I had not paid any attention to my hair since Earth.  I cringed when I considered how I might have looked whilst I was with Phillip, or with everybody else for that matter.
I had just finished making sure that I did not look like I had been dragged through a hedge backwards when the lights dimmed and rose.
I opened the door and in came the doctor with Amelia in tow.
“Hey,” my automatic, unprepared greeting got out, “uh, hello,” I addressed Deia, “what’s going on,” my eyes darted back to Amelia, “is everything alright?”
Amelia nodded and Deia said, “everything’s fine, Amelia is here to help me help you to train.”
“Right, okay,” I exchanged an amused yet unsure glance with Amelia, “where do we start?”
“By eating,” was the response, Deia moved aside from the door to allow another mobile tray to enter, this time with a bowl filled with some sort of thick liquid, probably a new alternative to soup, or possibly yoghurt.   “You have been asleep for seven auxes,” Deia spoke as she picked up the bowl without touching it.  Amelia looked about as awe filled as I must have done when I saw the same only replaced with a plate.
“I usually sleep about 6 hours, I guess seven is a little higher than average,” I said, trying to suppress a grin as Amelia waved her hands around the bowl in search of strings.
“Actually,” continued Deia as she navigated the bowl past the curious Amelia, “an auxe is closer to two hours than one.”
“Huh, okay then,” sleeping without an alarm was something that had been trouble for me in the past as, on my days off, I quite often would sleep until past four in the afternoon of the following day.  I usually would not bother going to bed that night and then retired early the following evening to reset myself.
“How have you found the energy since you woke up?” Deia asked as I went about sipping the warm, liquid straight from the bowl for lack of a spoon.
I swallowed what was in my mouth and tired to subtly wipe the little that had spilt down my chin before answering. “I couldn’t move at first,” I admitted, “but I focused like you told me and got it all moving again after a few minutes.”
“And how are you feeling?” she continued her questions, “are you feeling those feelings or are able to filter out your own emotions?”
I gave a disheartened sigh, “when they were built up, I could feel them all, it’s why I couldn’t move.  I felt paralyzed by pain and sadness, the confusion and fear were overwhelming.”  I gazed at my hands for a moment, “I thought that people had seemed more,” I gestured with my left hand, “at peace, I guess.”
“We saw the Earth,” Amelia spoke up, “what was left of the Earth.”  She tilted her head, a sad smile upon her face and a moist shine to her eyes, “it’s just a small, black thing you can barely see.  There’s nothing else.”
A lump rose in my throat.  I could feel my eyes take on a shine of their own as tears searched for an escape.
I cleared my throat and swallowed the lump along with another mouthful of the liquid which, I could not help but notice, tasted like what I expect buttery pasta yoghurt would taste like; not unpleasant yet far from expected.
Pushing down my shame and sorrow, I managed to force my voice out with only a slight waver in it, “how is…” I paused, how could I decide who to ask after first, “everyone?”
“Not gonna lie,” Amelia responded, “no one’s great, but I think everyone is coping.  I think we’re all just waiting for whatever comes next.  Doing our best to ignore Chasity and her little band of “humans first” followers,” she drew air quotes, “they call themselves that by the way.”
“What, like “Britain First?” I sunk my forehead into my hand, “we’re the last of humanity and the first political group that’s formed is fascist?  I’m so glad that we’re making such a great first impression.”
Amelia nodded with a roll of her eyes, “there’s been a few arguments, but they seem to be keeping to themselves for the time being, which, in itself, is a little worrying, but I don’t think they can do any real harm in the long run”
“Mmmm,” I replied whilst in though, “most sensible people thought the same about Trump in the beginning…” I raised an eyebrow, “maybe just keep an eye on them.”
“I think it’s safe to say that most people are.” 
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Deia interjected, ”but we don’t have long before I am needed elsewhere.”
She raised herself up and indicated that Amelia and I should do the same.
“To begin with,” she began with, “you must imagine the energy as an extension of yourself instead of something that you’re simply expelling.  Even after it has left your body, you can still control it.”
She brought the bowl up until it hovered just in front of me, “take a hold of it,” she said.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself, however before I could even attempt to grasp it telekinetically, she spoke quickly, “with your hands.”
We all giggled a little, it was only whilst listening to Deia’s hissing laugh that it occurred to me that Amelia could also understand the doctor.  A quick glance in the right direction revealed that she was wearing the same translation device.
Cupping the bowl in my hands, I awaited instructions.
“When you release the energy,” Deia began, “it can either be as a pulse or as a stream.  The pulse will emanate from your core and burst out in every direction, whereas the stream will flow out from a specific, focused point, your hands for example.  The telepathic abilities of those races that naturally possess it, is rarely strong enough to create a pulse that will do more that make their clothes flutter.  Typically, they will use their mouths, chests or limbs to release their stream.”
“What about you?” Amelia spoke up, curiosity overcoming her awkwardness for a few seconds, “erm, I mean, that is, your stream.  Whereabouts does it come out?  If it’s not rude to ask.”
The question was not rude for Deia answered with the same tone that she had been using, “mine comes out at my chest, a few inches bellow my jaw,” she pushed that section of herself forwards, “or occasionally the tip of my tail.  The energy that keeps me upright stays inside of me, it circulates throughout my system to allow me to keep my balance when I lock my spinal bones into place. 
“Now,”  she nodded to the bowl in my hands, “for the time being, we shall focus on the basics of the stream.  I want you to try to siphon off some of the energy from your internal current and begin to move it into you hands.”
I stared intensely at the bowl, however I did not really see it, all of my focus went inwards, gently pushing and pulling at the edge of the energy.  With very little effort, I found that I was able to draw it into my shoulders, expanding it down my arms, around my elbows, along my forearms until it pooled in my hands.
“Okay,” I said, “it’s there.”
With a slight nod, Deia said, “alright, slowly and gently, you’re going to release the energy and raise the bowl up into the air.  When you do so, allow only a small amount of energy out, you will be able to control it once it has left contact with your body.”
“What would happen if I just kept letting the energy flow out instead of just a little?” I asked.
“There wouldn’t be any change at the time,” she explained, “but it would be like turning on a tap, it would drain you.”  She looked me straight in the eye, “your energy is not infinite.  Once you have used up all that you have accumulated, it will take time to build it back up.  From what I can tell, it would take a large amount of strong, repetitive using to deplete the amount that you have, so I wouldn’t worry, you’ll be aware of when you’re reaching your limit.  It should only take a few hours for you to regain all of the energy that you would loose.  Alright, now I want you to put your hands down by your side.”
Whilst she had been talking I had pushed the bowl up and off of my hands, the release of energy coming to me as naturally as moving any part of my body.  I could feel the energy that held the bowl aloft, like a distant tingle, an invisible body part that I was still in control of, even though it was not physically connected.  I had to keep it moving, the energy, not the bowl, otherwise it would dissipate and the bowl would fall.
At the doctor’s instruction, I cautiously lowered my hands to my side.
No change occurred.
As long as I kept the energy moving beneath the, what I think was some sort of thick plastic, bowl, it would stay in place.
“Good,” Deia looked impressed, “very good, you have excellent control, Laura.”
“Just call me Jean Grey,” I gave a silly laugh, which Amelia snorted at.
“Jean Grey?” Deia appeared puzzled, “you wish to change your name?”
“Ah, no, sorry,” I hastily spoke, “it’s a character from a comic book, a story.  There was a woman who could move things with her mind, I was just momentarily comparing myself to a superhero.  Although,” with a sad sigh I said, “I expect I’ll be using my power for more practical things than preforming daring heroics.”
“Well,” Deia attempted some bedside manner, “I’m sure that you will help many people, human and otherwise.  Once you have learnt to control it at any rate.  I want you to try moving the bowl around a bit.”
I nodded and focused.
Although focused was not the right word.  I merely had to think it and the bowl began to float along the path I was imagining for it.  Up, down, left, right, even in a mobius motion, the remnants of the soup dripping onto my outstretched hand which, do not judge me, I licked up for lack of a cloth.
Placing the bowl gently down onto the tray, I grinned as Amelia gave a few impressed claps.
Deia nodded in agreement with the minor applause, “that really is very impressive.  I have to admit that I wasn’t expecting you to be so adept this quickly.  You’ll have to forgive my skepticism.”
I smiled awkwardly, “well, it’s not like there’s a precedent for this, I think I’m just overly aware of my own body and abilities.  Plus I’ve always been really quick at picking things up, especially if I’m good at them, it helps when I’m trying to figure out whether I want to do something or not,” I shrugged my shoulders, “I guess this is just another thing that I can do, it’s just a bit more practical and useful than being able to make string bracelets or walk on my heels… or talk like a chipmunk.”
“Yeah,” chimed in Amelia, “that last one’s really annoying.”  She cast a cheeky look toward Deia, “don’t start her singing either, she will, literally, never stop.”
I gave her a look of mocked outrage, “hey, I can sing!”
“Yeah,” she shot back, “but once you start, it’s impossible to get you to stop!”
I opened my mouth to protest.  Unfortunately, there was no arguing the fact that for, if it were not for societal obligation, I would probably sing instead of speak.
“Okay,” Deia seemed a little irritated at another tangent that we had gone off on, “I am sure that you will find this new ability a lot less irritating for others.  Now, I’d like you to lift the bowl off of the table.  The energy that you were just using dissipated once you stop focusing on it, am I right?”
I nodded and she continued, “you need to take the energy to move it from within yourself, release it and guide it to where it needs to be used.  You will need to figure out how much to send out, naturally too much won’t make much of a difference, but not enough and you’ll find yourself sending out more than necessary to make up for it.”
This time I chose to try expelling the energy from my chest.  It pooled just above the area where my wind pipe split off to either lung.  I pulled it out and directed it towards the bowl.  The amount of time that it took to leave me and reach the object was so fast that it felt more as though it had simply appeared there.
“Whoa,” I exclaimed out loud.
“Fast isn’t it?” Deia looked amused.
Amelia looked confused so I explained the speed that I had just discovered.
As smoothly as before, I lifted the bowl off of the tray.
“Alright,” the doctor gave her instructions, “raise the tray up to meet it.”
Without knowing the weight of the tray, it took a little while to figure out the right amount of energy to lift it.  I say a ‘little while’, I actually meant a few extra seconds.
“Good, now I would like you to do the same to your friend.”  Deia’s last instruction took me by surprise, however I figured out that this was the reason for Amelia having been recruited for the task.
I looked at Amelia, “ready?”
She looked a bit apprehensive, yet she nodded.
I siphoned off a larger amount of energy, again, I had to guess, so I took more than I expected would be necessary.  Amelia is one of my slimmer friends (yet is the one who goes on about needing to loose weight the most) and the amount that I sent out was far too much.
Unsure of where would be best to position the energy, I began to circle it around her feet, hips, beneath her armpits and behind her head.  When she moved I would shift the positions to compensate.
“Can you feel that?” I asked her.
“Had you started?” she responded, giving me my answer.
“Yeah,” I laughed a little, “starting now,” I said as I lifted her off of the ground.
She squealed in surprise as she found herself elevated above Deia and myself, beginning to giggle as I tilted her upside down.
I could feel the energy beginning to fade around her, however instead of setting her down, I fed the flow, instinctively raising my hands to direct it.  Such a movement was not needed at all, however I think it had a placebo effect on me, letting me feel more in control.
“And, return her to the ground,” Deia cut the fun to an abrupt end.
I gently lowered Amelia to the ground and let go of the energy surrounding her.
We both burst into excited laughter.