He was a strange man. A mad man if you will with a just a dash of sanity. It is a pity he had such a love for humanity. Humanity was the only thing that made him truly sane. It drove him,gave him purpose.Humanity fascinated him and even at times kept him alive.He however had no name. No matter how you pressed him his only reply would be"The Doctor. Just the doctor."It was vexingly infuriating but I was taught to keep control. Calm and Assertive that was my motto, his motto was rather hard to place.Was it run like a race horse?Jabber like a maniac?Act completly smug eventhough you have no idea what you're doing?Perhaps it was screw on and carry on.Sorry that was just a sonic screw driver joke.Well never mind that, I'm here to talk about the doctor. How do I describe the mad man? In some places of the universe he is known as a hero while in other corners of the vast constellations he is considered a murderer, a troublemaker, and a predator. He is a genius, a man of all trades. Though he appears to be just a man he is a alien, alien to all who meet him, for sadly due to the tragic conseqences of a war thousands of years ago, he was left alone to be the last of his kind.War is always a tragic thing.It most often dose more harm than good and nothing good can be said of it.Yet somehow regardless of the not so great war that left him a endlessly wandering orphan he was miraculously making the most of it by being...well by being generally alive.He had this glass is half full rather manic personalilty.He had a tendency to run his words together. He spoke like a old spunky, sputtering engine that was reluctant to start.Though he claimed he had worn many faces before this one, the current face he had chosen was not particularly handsome.Was he ruggedly handsome?No far from it. Was he homley? No not quite.Shall we say whatever unseen artist had created him from the mold so to speak must have started at the chin first then worked their way up to the jaw bone. So it became a not only conspicous asset to his face but a most prominent feature that practically screamed for validation. A Chin. Here is a Chin. See me! See me! Glorify me! Ode to a Chin! Behold a chin! The artist flaunted.

No more chin. No more chin. We have had enough of the chin. Please just give up.Please do carry on. We have more important things to think of besides chins,screamed the face. Regardless he still was having the last laugh. He was still standing; he had survived. Why shouldn't he be laughing? The fact he could take his next breathe made him happy. There was much in his life, much of which I know nothing of, that must have haunted him. He was not unfamiliar with sorrow and loss. Somehow he kept smiling through it all. Though he was vexing and sometimes irritatingly frustrating, he had a this delicious charm no woman could seem to say no to. I could never love him as a woman usually loves a man. We were never close in that way. I was closer to the darkness than he could ever be. The darkness of my past was somehow connected with his own. It was a shadow he thought had fallen long ago. I unknowingly was keeping that sinister shadow alive.

First before I speak any further about the Doctor I would like to tell you of how our path's came to meet.

I remember everything was perfect. It was also perfectly dull but I loved my life all the same. Everything was predictable and I couldn't imagine my life to be any different. There was no reason to imagine. I had no need to, for my mind was a empty shell, full of nothing but ignorance. It was emptied of all malice, sorrow and pain, I knew of long ago. Perhaps life wasn't always this splendid. Perhaps all my imperfection and inconsistencies of the past wasn't all that long ago. I tried to think of the last time the sun wasn't shining. I remembered nothing. Every day was like the one before it. What was I missing? I kept feeling I had lost something like some object of significant value to me. You know that feeling when you lose your keys or that moment you stare into the open fridge without a clue what you're looking for? I was feeling that way nearly everyday. Then the voices came. It definitely was not a chorus and it certainly was not a ethereal union of heavenly music like the one our community would partake in the daily chorale. It was a cacophony of moaning, a staccato of undying pleas and agonizing imploring. Then beyond the choas came a wave of another set of voices all together. These strangely sweet vocalists were the same that sung to me in my dreams every night.

There was a orchestra playing above the din and meloncoly. The flute sang a beautifully hopeful accompaniment. The trumpets deadened the moans to a whisper. Then the cello darkened the song and the unseen choir was carried away by the moody overtone and did likewise in the same foreboding fashion.

Something is wrong. Very wrong. They wish to hide the truth but no matter where you go the truth is following you. The truth is hiding in plain sight shadowed by all the lies. The truth fights to be shown till the very end. Will you fight as well? Will you choose to fight for justice, for truth and for peace? Something is amiss. Something is off key and aloof. Something empty eats away at the edge of your common sense. A oblivion consumes you night and day. Do you investigate or do you remain happily ignorant? The chorus would sing to me with such intensity that I would stagger in my nausea.

"Are you alright Miss Sky?"

The Chorale director asked me during one of my episodes.

Yes this perfect community known as Galio had regular choir practices for all who had a gift for music. I, without a doubt was highly gifted in that department. I was always praised for my gifts.Was i always praised or was that what everyone wanted me to think? Yet lately music was not the same for me. Singing didn't seem to have the same effect on me that it usually did. What was I singing for? Singing usually left me with a feeling of upliftment and purpose. I was proud of what my voice could contribute to the choir. I would practically be brimming with purpose whenever I left a Choir session.

I was useful. I liked feeling useful.

Singing also gave me a sense of control. Lately I'd been questioning who was really in control of my life. Was I in control or was somebody else orchestrating the strings of my destiny? Perhaps my destiny had not quite played itself out and someone was stopping it from unfolding itself. Whoever this someone was must have be a very desperate individual.

"I'm fine. I just have these... what do you call them?Lightheadedness episodes. Nothing serious". I answered while I rubbed the back of my head rather awkwardly.

Last week it had been a headache. Was he seriously going to believe me this time as well? The week before this one I had no doubt come up with some other pathetically poor excuse.

"Do you mean dizzy spells Miss Sky? Last week you had a case of migraines. You know if this keeps up I really think you ought to see a doctor."

Splendid. He didn't believe me. I mean why should he when I was such a obvious liar?

Was it something about my eyes that gave me away?

"Doctor. Oh no, I don't need a Doctor...as I said it's nothing serious. Nothing to be worried about. I'm fine...really I am. I'm just-"

"Well I am concerned, very concerned, concerned over you and your well being. Health is important. I wish for you to be healthy the moment you arrive for these sessions to the very moment you leave. Please Savana you have to understand why I...worry about you. You're my star pupil. I'd hate to lose you to anything... unfortunate."

His voice had practically melted in concern for me. How I wished I could run.

There was a delicate edge to his voice that made my insides double up. He actually cared for me and he had admitted it on the spot. Why did I feel like I was falling off a bridge? Why did I feel as if someone had pushed me off a cliff?

"I wish I could..help you...somehow".

His pale grey eyes watered slightly as if it gave him great pain to say those words.

Just a brief update: This guy who's almost to tears over me is named Gulliver. He's a good guy overall but he gets a bit confused when under pressure.

Everyone refers to him in public as Mr. Mosero even though I'm pretty certain he isn't married.

Close friends however call him Gull.

He unfortunately has one those faces that looks as if the skin is on too tight. He's not exactly gaunt , he just has these super high cheek bones that dominate his face.

He has a overly sophisticated way of talking. He tends to over enunciate his words a lot.

I think it's kind of a cute quirk of his.

He's well educated and well dressed. He has class and he's obviously no slacker. Is he the perfect man? Yes in some ways he is. One thing I've learned, nothing is perfect. Everything and everyone has a secret. A secret flaw to hide away from the world. There are of course other worlds. This is a secret in itself.

Even the humans have such truths hidden from them. Aliens are made merely to be a myth thus eliminating the concept of life on other planets. Those that have claimed to have seen such extraterrestrial beings are either labeled delusional or considered absolute fanatics. Some are even locked away in order to be kept from causing disorder and disruption and possible confusion.

Gaining Control over peoples mind's is harder than you might think. It takes subtlety and strategy to hypnotize the human mind. Did I mention to you of my origin? No.Oh well that can come later yet what I can tell you is I am not in any way human. Human history is fascination of mine. It is a most fascinating culture in which to study.

Where was I? Oh yes we were talking about mind control!

Mind control as I was saying can take time. Sometimes it takes multiple attempts before success. If one wishes to have even a chance of success in the manipulation of the mind you have to first appeal to the individual you wish to control. You need to allure them; pretend you have their best interests at heart and you are completely devoted to protecting their well being. You also have to disguise the threat of their future enslavement to you. If you are truly successful your subject will have no knowledge of your intentions. Ignorance is a vital tool. The more ignorance your subjects have the more power you possess. How do I know all of this?

I know because I too was under the power of mind control. The thing is mind control only works if you know nothing of the fact that you are being manipulated.

I was the only one that found out besides Gulliver. Gulliver was a intellectual; So it was only natural that he found out the truth before me. The thing is why hadn't he told me sooner? If he cared so much for me why did he allow me to discover the truth all on my own?