Life Without Memory (Book 1 of the Magical Machine Series)
Chapter 8: Visions of Power

Time seems to slow own and drag the more I have to sit herand not move. I have all the time in the world to do nothing. To let Nathanwait on me. To think.

I test those strange blocks in my mind that I’ve been tryingto ignore. I’ve been feeling strange since Nathan reset my legs and I had that light headed moment. It’s as if there is a strange buzzing behind my eyes,something waiting to be used.

Does this have something to do with the blocks?

The more I focus on the blocks, the more I realize a couplethings. One of those things is that some things are constantly flowing behindthose blocks. I can feel the floor under my hand, but if I dig on of my nailsinto my arm, all I feel is the gentle touch of a nail against my skin, andthere is some other feeling being immediately forgotten behind those blocks inmy mind. I think I should feel something else, in fact I am certain I should befeeling something else.

I can feel it, a thread like the threads that bind myclothing, flowing away behind that block. I pull my finger away from the skinof my arm, and notice a red mark in the shape of my nail.

The thread becomes thinner, almost invisible. I rub myfinger against the mark, and for a second it gets thicker again.

I go to try again, and Nathan grabs my hand. “Hope, why areyou inflicting pain on yourself?” He looks worried, as if I am doing somethingwrong.

“Pain? Is that what this mark is called?”

He frowns. “Pain is… It’s that intense feeling of – of…” Hedrifts off. He seems to be struggling to explain this word. “It’s – It’s thefeeling you get when you make the mark on your skin. It’s a burning feeling.”

“A burning feeling?” Maybe this is the feeling that is beingimmediately forgotten. Should I have felt this when you reset my legs?”

His eyebrows furrow. “Yes. You should have felt thissensation when I reset your legs. In fact, it should have been so bad that youscreamed of passed out.”

I nod. That makes sense then. I had noticed in the back ofmy mind that a very large thread was going behind the block when he reset myleg. Maybe that was the reason that I had gotten that strange feeling. I was probablyoverfilling the area behind these blocks.

“Hope?” Nathan’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear what I just asked?” He is still holding myhand, preventing my from testing my theory again.

“No, what did you just say?”

“I asked, can you not feel pain?”

I nod. “I think so. I was testing this. I thought that maybeI was missing something. There was a ghost of a thought that I should have feltsomething.”

“Please, stop testing this. Let’s just assume that for somereason you can’t feel it, and you can be grateful that you can’t feel it. Evenif you can’t feel it it’s not good for your body.”

I shrug, “Ok, I’ll stop.” I’ll stop while he’s awake. I willcontinue testing my blocks later, when he is asleep and I can’t sleep. Hesleeps so much now, and I struggle to sleep now. I’m not sure why, but now Ifeel more alive than I used to. Everything seems to be in more focus, and yettime drags immeasurably slowly.

And yet it continues. The light goes on, food comes threetimes while the lights are on, and then the lights go off.

Each time porridge comes, Nathan makes a mark on the flooron the other side of the cell.

But he seems to be losing focus. He moves around the cellwith a noticeable lethargy. He moves as if by wrote, barely even speaking to meanymore. Even now, he is walking back and forward across the cell in front ofme. He seems to notice nothing as he walks. The chill of the cell doesn’t evenseem to bother him anymore.

I’m surprised he even noticed my experiments.

Bread tumbles through the door, and he picks it up throws mea piece, and chows down on it. Why can’t I be in that state of non-existenceanymore? I used to be a master of passing time by just letting it flow by, butI can’t do that anymore. I’m fully aware, fully awake now.

I gnaw on the bread because it is habit to chew thetasteless stuff.

He is pacing again, back and forward in front of me. Youseem sad. Do you pity him? You should feel happy for him. He probably barelynotices the days anymore. I think he keeps track more out of habit than out ofany care for the time passing.

It’s been twenty porridges since he broke my leg. I knowthis even though I can’t see his marks. I’ve been keeping track.

That feeling behind my eyes. The buzzing behind my eyesbothers me. It’s as if something wants to be released from behind my eyes.

When he reset my legs, that feeling of reaching out…

I imagine reaching out to him, and I imagine little hands,reaching out to ward him, and the buzzing is soothed, though my head feelstight and pinched. Gently, I tap his should with one of the little hand I cansee reaching out, and he jumps.

I snatch back to myself, and the hands disappear. Thebuzzing is less, but I feel that strange light sensation for a moment.

Nathan is looking wildly around the cell. Did I actuallyjust touch him with my hands, or is this a dream and it is all my imagination.

I laugh, unable to help myself, and Nathan glares at me.“Why are you laughing, I swear someone just tapped my shoulder.”

I shake my head, “You looked funny, looking all around likethat. So you are imaging things now…”

I couldn’t tell him about my visions, about the hands I hadseen and manipulated.

He shakes his head, “No, I swear, I wasn’t imagining it. Someone…”He shakes his head again, “No, Somethingtouched my shoulder.”

He shudders and I look down at the floor. I can’t explain whathad just happened. I shouldn’t have laughed though. I think – I think I caused whathe felt.

He looks around, as if he expects to see something elsearound him, “Did you see anything or anymore, a wispy shape, maybe a ghost?”

I shake my head and stare at my feet. What had I done? What amI? This ability. It wasn’t – I don’t know.

The pressure in my head is making it hard to think. I holdmy head in my hands; my head feels too heavy to hold itself up.

Nathan’s hands are on my shoulders. I look up enough to seehim sitting next to me, holding my shoulders, his face lined with worry.

“Am I worthy of such a look,” I laugh but it adds to thestrange pressure, so I stop.

“Hope, what’s wrong? You never feel pain, right?”

I try to shake my head, but it’s too heavy, so I revert towords, “Pressure, I feel like my skull is too small, like my brain is pushingagainst my skull.”

“Is there anything… I think if you just lie down and sleepit should help.”

“Mmm,” I can’t say more. Sleep sounds good. I feel myselffalling, but something is holding me up, gently lowering me to the floor. Him.