Haley stood in the disaster area that was the kitchen, breathing heavily, wondering about the abrupt departure. As her anger quickly dissipated, the room ceased its vibrating, and the memories that seemed to be hers now played back in her head.
You stupid little girl. This is all your god damned fault. Your parents call you every week, and send you money, and are proud of you, and she's got none of that. So what if she's a nosy bitch, make your shields fucking better and move on, don't make things worse.
She looked down at her arm, at the mess in the sink and on the floor, and over to the oven which was now starting to emit a bit of smoke.
"God damnit," she muttered to herself, grabbing oven mitts and pulling out a sheet of now-blackened cookies.
Yeah. This was all real mature, Haley. You're in control of your powers. You're ready to learn to fly and be an X-Man. I'll bet they never have to control their emotions.
Haley busied herself cleaning the kitchen for a good half hour, the whole scene replaying in her head, before she finally left and went back to her room. The tears started as soon as she shut the door, and continued for some time.