Molly played with the cigarette that she held between her fingers. It wasn't lit, yet. But even the presence of the stick provided comfort. She was fully awake and in the library, filling out the last of the paperwork she needed to transfer and finish out her Masters in Education. And even if she hadn't been wide awake and still adjusting to time in the states, she wouldn't have slept anyway.
A woman in Colonial dress wailed on and on about her husband and her children to the point where Molly wished she could reach out and strangle the wispy tart. Reasoning with someone this long dead didn't do anything. Higher functions tended to drift away with the years, leaving something that was more of a memory than a literal ghost driven only by whatever it was that bound them so fiercely to this side in the first place.
Stressed, around Molly shadowy, wispy shapes condensed, some of which looked extremely human. The fact she was giving them shape again without the want to do so just irked her more, and increased the effect. There was no fine control anymore. No off-switch. No bloody balance.
With shaking hands she reached for lighter, the voices of the dead getting louder. She didn't think she could wait until she got outside or by an open window for a puff or two. She had seen the post about it, and the thought of another shrink was laughable. They numbered in the dozens over the years, and plenty did indeed have psychic powers and Molly in return had more than her fair amount of training in keeping the damn mind readers out.
She flicked the lighter on, the dead swirling around her some even visible to normal humans with no training at all.