Shrink

And there she was, sitting in front of the shrink, not wanting to say anything lest he decide she was insane. After all, Alisha knew all too well that having come from another world and not remembering any of her earlier memories—or Lily's memories was problematic.

"Did I erase her existence by coming to be in this body, or did she come into being when I entered this world." Alisha thought to herself as she continued to glare at the shrink, wondering what her aunt would do when Harry started attending Hogwarts, as that would be something Petunia wouldn't want even a shrink knowing. "At least I didn't end up in this world as a baby. Those stories where the person falls into fandom and is aware that they're a baby are super creepy. Why am I even thinking about that?"

"So, we can play this game where you talk to me about what's going on, or we play the game where I schedule another appointment."

Alisha stared. This was the man who wanted her to play with little kids' stuff, but now that she was thinking about it and wishing she'd thought about it when she first entered the room, the little kid stuff would actually have been age-appropriate for her as she now was. "So..."

"Do you not know where to begin?"

"So, I don't quite know why my aunt thinks I'm not acting like myself. When she walked me to the bus stop, I told her that I didn't even know what that meant."

"Oh? Care to elaborate."

"Simple. To me, I'm acting like myself."

"So you find it odd that your aunt is saying that you're not acting like yourself?" The man continued to sit in front of her, holding his notes. "For starters, she's concerned that you haven't been talking the last few weeks, except to say some weird things, such as your older brother being locked in the cupboard and you needing to rescue him."

Alisha chose not to respond except to frown at the man, wishing she could go home. "And by that, I think I mean the other world. How long do I have to put up with this? Actually, I don't have a way home, so the answer to that is infinity."

"Which I would consider being a wonderfully active imagination during play, except she's noted you've not played with your older brother or cousin either these last few weeks. You've avoided them."

And as he started noting she'd been avoiding her family members close to her in age, Alisha blurted out, "I'm allowed to play with them?"

The man—the psychiatrist, stared. Or at least it felt like he stared for an extended period rather than simply briefly pausing before his next question. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Because they're strangers."

"Strangers?"

"Oops." Alisha slunk down in the chair, now really hating this world, wondering if it was some kind of punishment. And, there was the feeling that in the few weeks she'd been there, she was slipping into the rut of living a nine-to-five kind of life again. "Um..."

"Does your family currently feel like strangers to you?"

"I don't want to say. You'll give me some kind of funny diagnosis, and I'm not mentally unstable. I have a perfectly sound mind, despite what my aunt thinks."

"Oh, your aunt doesn't think you're insane if that's where you're going."

"That doesn't sound right," Alisha frowned at the man.

"And you say that because?"

"She keeps giving me weird looks."

"Well, as she's said, you're not acting like yourself, right?"

"Right, but..." Alisha frowned, wondering what that meant, her not acting like herself, given that she knew nothing about Lily. She tried looking around that horribly pink room, and the only thing she learned was that Lily wasn't the type of girl to keep a journal, but then—neither had she.

"Is something happening at home?"

"My aunt isn't abusive. As she told you, she really doesn't lock my brother in the closet under the stairs."

"Do you know why you would think that?"

"I don't know," Alisha said, not wanting to say that she'd read a book series involving her brother's life if she—Lily—didn't exist and that in that book, he was indeed locked under the stairs at times. She also didn't want to say she came from another world because that would just get her ten-year-old self thrown into the loony bin.

"Nothing's changed or is changing?"

"Just me," Alisha said. "I mean, I'm not going away to school like Dudley and Harry are."

"Dudley and Harry are going away to school? For their secondary education?"

"Why is that important?"

"Well, I would think—and this may just be because I'm an adult, that your cousin and older brother going away to school is a big change because they're not going to be home a good portion of this year."

Alisha stared. She had an ah-hah moment that she could blame all her issues on not liking the fact they were going away to boarding school, yet she didn't open her mouth, feeling as if that were an odd conclusion to even come to, given the fact—well, the real reason was her coming from another world.

"Have you talked to them about this? Any of your family?"

"I don't know," Alisha frowned.

"You don't? You don't remember talking to them."

"I kind of..." Alisha frowned, not wanting to mention that she couldn't remember anything before that day.

"Kind of what."

"What if I were to say I actually don't remember anything from before a certain point?" Alisha said, only to find herself panicking. "Good job! That will definitely get you tossed into the loony bin.

And the man now frowned at her.

"I mean..." Alisha felt ill again. "I can't walk that back."

"But you know names?"

"Maybe?"

"You know your brother's name, your aunt's name. I mean, I got that much from what she's told me, so..."

"I'm kind of worried about going back to school because I can't remember any of the names of my classmates." This was, in fact, true, but that was possibly something she shouldn't admit as it meant that something was definitely wrong. "But I can remember the stuff I learned."

"And how does it make you feel?"

"It sucks." Alisha looked down at her hands, knowing Petunia Dursley would flip if she used such language. "I mean, it stinks."

"I can imagine," the man said. "I think you're disassociating?"

"What?"

"It means you're you're disconnected from or separating from your situation, but it is actually a healthy response. And that's pretty much what your aunt wanted to know by bringing you here."

"Uh..."

"So, if you don't mind, I'd like to bring her in to talk about it."

"That seems quick."

"Well, it does, so I will want to follow up when school starts to see how you're doing, given that's also when your older brother and cousin will be leaving, but I also want you to start playing with them again. I'll ask your aunt to ask them to try and include you."

"But they have."

"Then engage."

She didn't like, nor did she like agreeing to have her Aunt Petunia come in. Still, she didn't want her to find out the reality, particularly her distaste for anything abnormal. Yet, there he was explaining to Petunia that the explanation for everything wrong with her was "dissociation because her older brother and cousin are leaving."

And his solution—

"You should spend more time with your neice."

"Oh, joy. So I get a year with no Dudley, no Harry, and instead get the woman who loves pink to horrendous levels. I don't think we can connect with each other. Like, she's a stranger. And did he have to tell her I think of them as strangers? She keeps giving me a strange look! This sucks!"