“Why does my second grade teacher look exactly like you?”

I asked the question and then wondered if the answer was going to do me more harm than good. I could feel the sweat collecting under my shirt.

Dr. Wright took a moment to let my breathing reach a stable rate before she responded. “My job is to enforce the rightful sovereignty of every living thing. You’re not the only one, Sam. People go through this all the time. They simply mistake it for mental illness. Nothing is wrong with your mind.”

“What?” I was stuck. I couldn’t comprehend anything Dr. Wright was saying to me.

“Sam, you need to focus. You are under attack, but I can help you.”

“What the hell are you? What is this place?” I asked.

“This place is a physical manifestation of me.” She smiled. “It’s funny how language can limit understanding,” she said.

She paused for a moment, assuming I’d find this as amusing as she did.

I didn’t.

“There aren’t many proper words in the English language to describe how or what I am,” she continued. “So I’m just going to level with you. Every person I treat sees me as someone that they trusted as a child. Sometimes it’s teachers, like me. Sometimes it’s mentors or family members… whatever it takes for them to subconsciously lower their guard. My secretary is also me, as is this building, as is the furniture you are sitting on.”

I jumped up.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Dr. Wright laughed. “You can sit down. I come from another dimensional plane, just like the forces that are attempting to invade you. I’m not what you consider to be God; however, that word does characterize some of my attributes. I am not all-powerful, but I do have some degree of omnipresence. The best way I can describe myself is that I am a healthcare professional for sentient beings. I am a doctor.”   

A part of me wanted to run out of the office and never turn back. The reality of my situation collapsed onto me like a 500-ton pile of bricks, and naturally, I was paralyzed beneath them. I didn’t move or speak for what seemed like too long and instead stared vacantly at Dr. Wright as she waited for my response.

“Sam?” she asked, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry.” I snapped out of it. “This is just a lot to take in.”

“I understand completely. Everyone I see usually has a similar reaction.”

Even though the rational side of my mind was still in denial, I considered the validity of Dr. Wright’s claims. She had an explanation for the weird feeling I seemed to get when I came to her office, and the seemingly identical expressions of both Dr. Wright and her secretary all served as supporting evidence.

“So, if none of this is real, and if you and this whole building are just a manifestation of an alien or something, then how do you know so much about me?”

“If you’re asking about how I was able to get a hold of that picture…”

She smiled.