Emmie fidgeted with the hem of her shirt nervously, nibbling on her lip. Her eyes were trained outside of her seat's window as she tried to find something to focus on other than everyone else's emotions. It wasn't an easy task. She had done as much as she could, plugged her ears up with overly loud headphones, sat as far away from everyone as possible too; but she could still feel them. That was something she couldn't help. Her mother had told her earlier that morning that she should just keep to herself and try to stay quiet, it might help. Her father had told her the complete opposite; to mingle so she could get control over it. Easier said than done. Emmie wished that she could have gotten her mother's ability to read thoughts instead of emotions. How much would that help her in life?