Atrocities of Carrie (2013) and Other Tricks of the Mind

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Horror Mystery and Lore

What an interesting thing the mind can be in an age where misfits enjoy stories that illuminate the horrifying nature of what lies in the depths of the human psyche. Man can be driven to madness when his mind is invaded, when his sanity is questioned, or when his morals have been corrupted, but what is hidden amongst his deepest darkest dreams, desires, and fears? How can we really know what is real and what is imagined—more importantly, do we dare pursue those instincts within to find the true power that could be concealed inside every single one of us?

Psychokinesis is a concept that is often regarded with derision, especially within the scientific community and yet it has been studied fairly extensively. It seems like the results from such experiments and theories are never released in any legitimate form, but instead further speculated upon—then again, perhaps that’s why we have gotten so many great movies in the horror genre that depict these people with larger than life abilities that potentially threaten the lives of anyone caught unable to defend themselves.

Paul Draper Bending Spoon
Paul Draper Bending a Spoon

The pure number of speculated types of psychokinesis is quite outrageous—name a type of object and there is probably a -kinesis to cover it. Of course, there are the more well-known versions of the phenomenon, such as telekinesis the ability to move objects with your mind, pyrokinesis the ability to create, control, and extinguish a fire with your mind. There are also ones that are less widely known, or even otherwise unheard of—like aerokinesis which is the supposed ability to manipulate air molecules to create wind, or similarly atmokinesis, which would enable the person to manipulate weather conditions.

These types of psychokinesis range into the absurd, so much so that there is even one for manipulating the perception of time, or manipulating time itself, which is called chronokinesis—not to say that these powers wouldn’t be absolutely stellar to have, but to say that they already exist in the world as we know it today would be leaving yourself open to mockery. All of these different types of manipulating objects solely with the power of one’s mind is reminiscent of the television show Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005) in which people belong to certain tribes in four separate kingdoms, select people within these tribes possess the power to manipulate the natural element that their tribe is known for. Not to say that it’s not a great television show—but the idea of these kinds of powers existing without anyone truly taking note of such amazing gifts renders the whole thing even more fictional in nature.

Carrie (2013)
Carrie (2013)

Fictional cases of psychokinesis are easily identified—after all, being able to control the world around you with your mind is probably the superpower that is most popularly wished for. Characters like the mutants for X-Men comic books and subsequent film franchise, as well as movies like Push (2009), Chronicle (2012), and more recently Code 8 (2019) have made us yearn for superpowers whereas darker movies like Brightburn (2019) show us exactly why most of us are pretty glad that these kind of powers aren’t up for grabs. In Brightburn (2019) we see what the world would have gotten if Superman were part of an evil race of aliens. The remake of Carrie (2013) as well as the original show exactly what would happen if the unpopular, beaten-down, and bullied girl ended up having telekinetic powers and eventually being pushed too far. Everyone has their own limit on how poorly they can be treated before they finally stand up for themselves.

An alternative theory as to why it isn’t widely known that these powers might actually exist is that any time this type of phenomenon occurs, it is typically mistaken for poltergeist activity. This theory suggests that some reports of poltergeists are not actually manifestations of the dead, but instead unconscious manifestations of a person’s psychic turmoil.

People Who Are Known For Their Psychokinetic Abilities

Despite the skepticism surrounding any possibility of psychokinetic abilities, there have been a few cases where people have been able to prove under scientific observation that they have the ability to manipulate the world around them in some way or another.

Nina Kulagina

Nina was one of the first Russian citizens to participate successfully in the research that the Soviets conducted when seeking to weaponize telekinesis. She demonstrated her abilities under controlled lab conditions by stopping a frog’s heart.

Uri Gellar

Known for his ability to bend spoons, but his authenticity is questionable as he was a performer in theatre and magic circles prior to his dynamic spoon-bending performances.

Ted Serios

Made famous for the concept of thoughtography—he alleged that he had the ability to transfer his mental images onto photographic film while under the influence; due to his problems reproducing this ability while sober, researchers debunked his claims.

Matthew Manning

Claimed an ability to affect electrical and mechanical devices, and had an aptitude for automatic writing.

Tibetan Buddha Statue Meditation
Photography by RKTKN

Tibetan Monks

In Tibet, there are monks that are known to have the ability to raise their body temperatures through the power of meditation, possibly the most plausible of all of the phenomenons attributed to psychokinesis, as it relates to the mind’s control over the body. Monks would sit in temperatures of approximately 40˚ Fahrenheit in a meditative state using g Tum-mo Yoga techniques, then have wet ice-cold sheets draped over them. They would be able to raise their body temperature so effectively that in most cases steam would rise from their bodies and the sheets would be dried within about an hour.

Movies that Illustrate the Darker Side of the Psychokinetic Powers

The Paranormal Journal of Ezekiel Kincaid Entry 5: James and Alice

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Interruptions.

They are a part of life but I still haven’t grown accustomed to them. In fact, I hate them so much I stopped taking walk-ins years ago…

It was a Tuesday morning and I had just poured a fresh cup of coffee. The aroma was rising in my nose as my computer booted up for the day. I was about to sit down and work on putting the final touches on the first draft of Johnny Walker Ranger: Demon Slayer, Vol. 2. I didn’t even get to sit my butt in the chair when the doorbell rang.

“I moved outta neighborhoods cause of crap like this.” I glanced at the bottom left of the computer screen. It was 7:59 a.m. “Better be Girl Scout cookies.” I placed my mug next to my computer and walked towards the door.

I turned the knob and pulled. The sunlight danced across my night-laden eyes and I squinted. I raised a hand over my forehead to shield my face from the light. I blinked a few times to focus on the shadowy figures standing before me. They came into view and I saw a man and woman around my age.

The man stood with his hands crossed in front of him. He was lanky, had scraggly facial hair and donned tattered jeans and red Dr. Pepper shirt. The lady had short brown hair with round features. She was wearing a white tank top and cut-off jean shorts.

I eyed them up and down. “Look, a homeless man and a hooker.” I motioned at the guy with my head. “Good thing you’re not an add for Dr. Pepper, cause if you were, I’d never drink the stuff.” I started to close the door.

The lady thrust her foot forward and stopped the door.

“Mr. Kincaid, please,” the man said and placed his hand on the lady’s shoulder.

“I don’t do walk-ins. Hold on, let me get my secretary so you can make an appointment.” I peeked over my shoulder. “Hey, Janet!” I paused for a moment then looked back at them. “She must be out. Sorry, you’ll have to reschedule—never.”

“Please!” The man raised his voice. His eyes rounded and a look of desperation flowed over him. His lip quivered. “I’m a friend of Trisha’s.”

The name punched me in the gut.

Trisha.

She came to me on a whim. She was having nightmares about an entity with the head of a goat skull, body of a feline, and tail of a serpent. To make a long story I short, I used my ability to save her from being cult stew.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at them for a few moments. “Fine.” I eased off the door. “You got five minutes to make sense or you’re gone.”

“Thank you,” the man nodded and came in.

“Stubborn jackass,” the woman said then walked over the threshold.

“Don’t mention it, Roxanne,” I huffed.

“I hate that song!” She snapped back.

“Who hates that song?” I snickered.

I stepped in front of them and made my way into the kitchen and arrived at the coffee pot. “Anyone want some? I just put it on.”

“Yes,” the man said. “We would both like a cup.” He gave the woman a brazen glare.

“We would.” The woman’s voice was flat, monotone.

The couple moved toward my table. He pulled the chair out for her and let her sit. He took his place next to her.

I poured them each a cup of coffee and placed it before them on the table.

“Thank you,” the man said and took a sip as the steam snaked around his face.

I pulled out a chair from the table, turned it around, and sat down with my arms draping over the back. “Your five minutes start now.”

“My name is James,” the man said. “This is my wife, Alice.”

I acknowledge them with a nod.

“You helped Trisha, and now I need you to help my wife,” James said.

I glared at the woman as she wrapped her lips around the cup. “Someone looks like they think I’m a fake.”

“Excuse me,” the woman strutted her head back like a turkey.

“Yeah. I seen that look a thousand times,” I said.

Alice wrapped her hands around the mug and glanced down, her eyes heavy. “I—I do have a hard time believing any of this.”

I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. “Number one, its early and I don’t like morning interruptions. Number two, its early and I don’t like morning interruptions. And three, I don’t like interruptions so get on with it. You either want my help or not.”

“My wife has lost something very important to her,” James said.

I rolled my neck then rubbed the back of it. “Dear Lord, please?” I lifted my eyes while my head was lowered. “I’m not a psychic lost and found. Get out.” I waved my hands at them.

“Told you he was a fake,” Alice said and pushed her cup away.

James gripped her wrist. “Just wait.”

“If I was a smoker, I would light one up right now,” I said. “The mood calls for it.” I placed my forearms on the table and interlocked my fingers. I breathed in deep and exhaled. I could hear the ringing of my computer as updates and messages dinged off. I shot a glance over at it then returned my eyes to my audience. “People usually call me a fake to try and manipulate me to do what they want. Doesn’t work on me. If you think I am a fake or a circus side show, you can drag your ass out the same way you came in. We are done.”

I stood up from the table and kicked my chair back. “You want a prediction? You both will die one day. How’s that?”

Alice placed the back of her hand over her mouth and gasped. James hung his head.

“Alice, stop.” James lifted his eyes to me. “She doesn’t mean it.” He glared at Alice. “Tell him.”

Alice placed her hands on the table and cleared her throat. “I am sorry I offended you.” She wouldn’t look at me. “Please, I need your help.”

I grabbed the back of my chair, lifted it, then slammed it down and scooched it toward the table. “Fine.” I sat down.

“Tell him why you are here, babe.” James set his cup down on the table.

Alice adjusted in her seat. “Someone very close to me—well who used to be very close to me—gave me something when we were young. Two white stones.”

“Who gave them to you?” I asked.

“My younger sister, Rachel. I was eight and she was five when she gave them to me. I carried them everywhere. They were special because she used her own money to buy them then gave them to me as a birthday present.” Alice teared up. “She died fifteen years ago in a car accident. Since then I have been looking for those stones and can’t find them.” Alice wiped her eyes. “So, Mr. Kincaid, I need to find them. They are all I have to remember her by.”

I gave a slow nod. My heart was moved with compassion and I all the sudden wasn’t annoyed by her anymore. I stretched out my hands across the table. “Let me see your hands, Alice.”

Alice was hesitant. She looked to James for assurance and his expression told her it was all right. Alice placed her hands in mine.

“First, I am going to prove I am not a fake.” I closed my eyes. “I am searching your memories.”

Alice gave a slight twitch when I started.

“I see—your childhood.” My countenance fell. “So much pain and sadness.”

Alice let out a soft whimper.

“Someone. They threw things at you. A red thermos.”

Alice went to speak but I cut her off.

“No. I’m confusion two things. I see a red ball, two black eyes, and a thermos—”

“Lock.” Alice said.

“Yes.” I nodded.

We opened are eyes and gazed at one another.

“I was bullied bad. From elementary through high school.” Alice began to cry. “The bullies—”

“Shayna, Julie, and Amanda,” I said.

Alice pulled her hand away from mine and placed it over her lip. Her fingers trembled. “How did you—”

“Tell me what happened.” I held her other hand tight.

“One day at P.E.,” she swallowed. “They cornered me with those red rubber balls you use for dodge ball. Then they pelted me with them. Shayna hit me right in the nose and blackened both my eyes.”

“What about the locks?” I asked

Alice closed her eyes and bit her lips. “When I would run up or down the stairs in the hall. The kids would throw locks at me. The brand was thermos.”

“Dear Lord,” I said and shook my head. I stared at her with mixed emotions. Part of me felt sorry for her and the other part of me wanted to track those people down and shove the locks into every open cavity of their body. “Give me your other hand. I need to keep searching.”

Alice reached so I took hold of her hand. Her fingers and palms had grown clammy.

I searched her memories again. “You’re one constant was your teddy bear, Clark.”

Alice teared up again. “Yes.’

Then I was in deep. Her memories were flashing before me. “Alice. I see you as a child. You are in the woods. You are burying your toys.” Then my voice changed. It was that of Alice when she was a little girl. “It’s okay, no one will find you here. You are safe.” My voice returned to normal. “Alice, what is this?” I opened my eyes.

Alice’s body shook as she sobbed. “How did you know I buried my toys? I have never told anyone that. Not my mother. Not my sister. Not even James. I had forgotten.” The look on Alice’s face was one of amazement and sorrow. “I am so sorry I doubted you.”

I held out my hand to stop her. “Why did you bury your toys?” I asked.

“Because the kids. The bullies. They would steal my toys or destroy them. So, I started to bury them.” Alice said.

I closed my eyes again. “I saw young Alice again in the woods next to her buried toys. “I see you holding two white stones. You buried them with your toys.”

Alice jerked her hands from mine and placed them over her mouth. “My God. I did! I remember! I buried them there because Shayna tried to steal them from me at school one day.”

“There still there.” I told her. “Do you remember where the place is?”

Alice nodded. “I do. My mother still lives in the same house I grew up in. I remember the stop between the two trees.”

I looked at Alice then at James. “Take her there. She will find the stones.” I stood up from the table.

James reached across to shake my hand. “Thank you,’ he said. His eyes were wide, and his face beamed with thankfulness.

I clasped his hand. “Glad I could help.”

Alice ran and gave me a hug. “Please forgive me for doubting. Thank you so much.”

I pulled her away and smiled. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t been to see if they really are there.”

“Oh, they are.” She gave me a half smile. “I remember it clearly now.”

I saw the couple to the door and gave James my number. “Call me if she finds it.”

“Will do,” He took the slip of paper with my cell number.

We said our goodbyes and I returned to my computer to work on Johnny Walker Ranger: Demon Slayer, Vol. 2.

Four hours later my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Kincaid, it’s James.”

“Yeah, hey James.”

“Alice found the stones right where you said they would be.”

“Good,” I smiled. “Glad she found them.”

“Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.”

I hung up the phone and kept writing.