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I hear the sound of glass shattering and I dimly sense the flickering of pain on my arm. Then I feel his throat, warm and scratchy with stubble against my hands, and his back pressing against the wall. I’m still invigorated by the sensations of triumph flooding through me after those memories dashed into my head a few moments ago. The rage growing inside was too much to stop. My Nurse was in trouble. How could I not help her after all she’s done to help me?

He was hurting her as they’ve all hurt me.

  The haze of red across my vision clears and I see his eyes, white and wide, with their blue irises flashing crazily. He tries to speak, but chokes against my constraining hands.

How does it feel? How does it feel to have your words throttled in your throat? I wish I could ask him.

I feel pure strength pour out from my heart through my shoulders and down my arms into the very tips of my fingers. The power I have fills me with a strange sense of control, something I can’t remember ever feeling before. I see his face as it grows red, and I suddenly realize that I hold his future in my hands. But a sound from behind me pulls my thoughts away from my power. The other workers are coming. I keep my right hand on my prisoner and with a brutality I didn’t know it possessed my left fist flies out and wards off three of them. I sense one behind me and without conscious effort I hear the crunching of his left knee beneath my foot.

The other rescuers stop their approach in a state of horrified awe. I can see the terror in their eyes. Terror of me.

It feels good.

  “Max.” It’s My Nurse. Her voice is a whisper, slow and firm. But there’s fear behind it. She’s afraid of me too. I never wanted that. “Max, let him go, dear. Let him go.” She pleads gently.

I turn to look at her, and his skin grows hotter beneath my hands. One of the others lets out a low moan as he clutches his leg. I try to speak, but the words won’t come of course. The frustration of this disability releases more of that churning anger pent up inside me and my victim lets out a squeal. I realize I am pressing harder without meaning to. My Nurse lays a shaking hand on my arm. “Oh, Max please let go.” Behind her quiet tone I sense the urgency of her request, not for her sake or his but for my own.

I release him.

Instantly, I feel the cold, familiar sucking of a needle as it glides beneath my skin. Darkness comes, and I fear that I’ll lose those precious memories once again.

But this time is different. This time I don’t forget.