Jump part 2

Hey all, here's the next part of my Jump story. If you missed the first, here's a link:

http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/viewtopic.php?t=57288

And now, let us begin!

Jump Part 2

The boy’s eyes fluttered open, only to shut themselves again. A bright light shone on his face. “Where…am…I?” He mumbled. A girl’s voice answered him.

“The JCTG. Juvie for freaks.” She said. Shielding his eyes, they boy sat up. The girl was around his age. She was rather petite, with long brown hair.

“W-what?”

“You’re a bit slow, aren’t you? This is a juvenile center to freaks like you and me and the other kids behind you. But they call us ‘telekinetically gifted.’” She said. Turning around, the boy saw several other kids, on bunks similar to the one he realized he was on. Most of them were asleep.

“Me? I’m not…” He started.

“Not what? Telekinetic? They’re never wrong. You probably don’t remember much, anyway, do you?” She asked.”My name’s Susan, by the way. Or that’s what they tell me. I don’t remember anything past when I woke up on this cot. And that was three weeks ago. It’s in the stuff they shot you with.”

Susan was a talker, the boy remarked in his head. But she was right. He didn’t remember anything besides a sharp pain in his lower back.

“Who am I?” He asked.

“Like I’m supposed to know? They’ll tell you soon. They know you’re awake by now.” She said, gesturing to a security camera in the corner of the room.She was right again. Soon, a bald man in a lab coat came and stood beside the boy’s bed.

“Hello. Your name is Mark. As Susan has explained to you, you’re in the JCTG. Here, we will test your powers and attempt to enhance them. Please come with me, now.”

Mark, as he now knew he was called, blinked. He had never had so much information thrown at him before. But he shakily stepped onto the floor, his reflective jumpsuit glistening in the light. Mark followed the man down a mirrored hallway, where the man gestured Mark into a dark room. The door closed behind him.

“Mark. Good to see you’re awake.” Said a voice from the middle of the room. A lamp turned on, revealing a man in a strangely familiar suit. “Now, you see this chair? I want you to move it. But don’t use your hands.”

“Wha—?”

“Move the chair!” The man bellowed, and Marks head throbbed with a sudden pain. He looked at the chair. In his mind, he pictured it hitting the man.

It did.