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Scene 1
Off Camera
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The dictionary defines “freedom” as “liberation from
slavery or restraint or from the power of another”. This word has taken on a dual meaning for me
in recent days. I am free, having
recently broke away from the bonds of servitude to Quinn Murray, a woman who I
had recently sold my very soul to for the mere promise of wisdom and
power. But there is another freedom I
have obtained; freedom from the shackles that bound me in my mental prison for
nearly two decades.
Quit
sounding so bloody melodramatic, you pathetic worm!
Yes, I’ve developed a split personality; but this problem
is not new. It is a problem that has
been a part of my life ever since my childhood.
It was a coping mechanism my mind utilized to deal with the physical and
mental abuse from my father, George O’Brian.
At a young age my mind developed this sociopathic, emotionless creature,
a personality so detached from humanity that it would not be harmed by anything
the abusive George O’Brian threw its way.
And me? I was left to drift
aimlessly in the subconscious, barely aware of anything that had been going on
while my sociopathic dark side had taken full control of my life.
Silence,
ingrate! Get it right, I protected you
from George O’Brian because you couldn’t handle him. And if you couldn’t handle that drunken
jackass then what makes you think you could handle the real world? The real world is full of evil, evil far
greater than him. I dealt with the real
world so you didn’t have to. Hell, you
couldn’t deal with the real world even if you wanted to because you were
weak. You still are weak.
I thought I needed you but I was wrong. Dealing with life’s trials and tribulations
is a natural part of being human. I
needed to endure those evils you speak of; it was weak of me to lean on you for
so long as a crutch; allowing you so much control was weak of me. I need to learn to start standing up on my
own two feet, I need…
…you need to
back away and give me control. You can’t
handle the hardships life throws at you, you can’t deal with the problems.
Oh and you can?
Your brilliant solution so far has been to become a slave to someone
else.
You have no
idea who Mistress is and what she is capable of!
Oh I know damn sure who she is; I have always been around
as the silent observer until now. Her
real name is Bridgett Kennedy and she is not the goddess she claims to be. I was weak for letting you control my life because
I didn’t think I could manage, but you are just as weak as I was for letting
her run your life just because of a few losses.
A few
losses? I was on a year-long losing
streak! It’s been even longer than that
since I tasted gold! I needed her help
and with her help I’ve been brought back into title contention! Now we’re coming to Taking Hold of the Flame,
one year from when I made my SCW debut, and on that night I could cement my
comeback by winning the battle royal and earning a world title match. But you?
You?! How the bloody hell do you
think you’re going to outlast thirty nine other superstars?!
I can figure out how to win.
Oh you can
figure it out, is that right? You don’t
sound so confident. And you shouldn’t
sound confident. Violence was never your
strong suit. Waging war and destruction
was my forte. That’s why you created me.
She is right, unfortunately. Physical violence was never my strong suit,
as she puts it. Hell, I didn’t even like
active competition all that much. Before
I created that sociopathic, dark personality as a child I had always played
games for laughs, fun, and joy.
Competition has always been the farthest thing from my mind. Now I have an opportunity to enter Taking
Hold of the Flame and earn a world title shot and my other half is correct, I
am unaware of what I will do. Will natural
instincts kick in? Or worse yet, will
she take over?
Those are thoughts that I do not wish to consider right
now. Instead I am focusing on something
that I know I’ve been missing for a very long time…
I’m walking down the large halls of a shopping mall.
The shopping mall has architecture the schools and
hospitals can only dream of. The ceiling is domed higher than any cathedral and
made of the most beautiful glass. The walkways flow like tributaries to the
main rivers of people, not a sharp angle to be seen. It smells like heaven in a
hand-basket and the floor shines like the surface of a lake at sunrise. In the
background is music to soothe, gentle flowing notes to take the shopper's cares
far away. In a world so chaotic it is order. In a world of pollution and
desecration it is clean perfection in bubble-wrap.
Various shoppers are moving two and fro, practically
ignoring myself and my sister-in-law, Ashley O’Brian. The two of us are trying to find a good
clothing store to step into so I can buy a whole new wardrobe. My darker half has a decidedly tomboyish
preference regards to clothing.
Bloody hell!
“I didn’t realize you enjoyed shopping,
Sophie.” Ashley says with a friendly smile.
“I didn’t either until about a week ago.”
“How’s that?”
“Let’s just say my eyes have been opened to
new things and let’s leave it at that.” I wink
with a friendly grin of my own on my face.
“That’s funny.” She
says with a light giggle. “And may
I say, that dress looks so good on you!”
“Thanks, Ashley.”
The dress in question is one of the few outfits that I
like, one of the few that survived my darker half’s purge after my husband Tony
died. It is a yellow floral print
sundress that stops at just below the knee.
My feet are encased in sandals with a slight heel.
I got rid of
that piece of garbage for a reason. It
only encouraged weakness within us.
Tony liked it, though.
Precisely,
and being married to him made us weak.
Marriage itself is an institution of weakness. We need not be tied down to anyone!
And yet you wish to tie us down to Quinn Murray.
That is
different!
Not really.
Hopefully you will see that someday.
“Hey Sophie!” I
snap back to reality when I hear Ashley’s voice. “Look!”
She’s pointing at what appears to be a small clothing
store. A smile is on her face. “I’m sure we could find some things for you
in there.”
Not if I can
help it!
I start to
back away from Ashley. The smile that
was on her face slowly fades into a curious frown.
Stop it!
Make me.
“What’s wrong, Sophie?”
“Uh…it’s, uh…”
I said stop it!
“…nothing.” I
shake my head and then look back up at her, forcing a smile on my face. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” She
approaches me slowly. “You were
tortured, tormented, and treated like an animal by that horrible Quinn Murray. I mean, are you sure you’ve fully recovered?”
That is my
Mistress you are talking about, bitch!
“GET THIS STRAIGHT! SHE IS MY…” I
shake my head “…she is my worst
decision ever, yeah, definitely my worst decision I’ve ever made.”
“That’s for sure! But it’s over now, ok?” Ashley says with a chuckle. “Now come on, let’s go and get you some clothes.”
She probably senses that something is wrong, for she takes
me by my hand and guides me towards the clothing store. There is something wrong. My darker side isn’t going down without a
fight. But I can’t let her take back
control. I can’t let her win. She’s too dangerous to be let free, she’s too
dangerous to be in control of this body.
I may be
dangerous but I’m also the only one who can protect your pathetic little ass
from the horrors of this world! I know
best how to live this life in a fallen world such as this. You have been shackled to the abyss of the
subconscious for so long you may as well be a damn child. How will you ever get by? How will you manage?
I will manage.
No you
won’t. You cannot. You need me!
I can make it on my own.
I do not need you any longer.
It’s time to prove it by just living life. I follow Ashley’s lead into the store and
immediately my eyes grow wide with the many aisles of clothes, from women’s
clothing to men’s clothing, even underwear and footwear can be found in this
place, all depending upon the aisle you choose.
Ashley takes me off to the right towards a particular aisle that seems
more geared to feminine fashion.
“I think this has what you need.” She remarks, pulling me down the aisle. We stop in front of a rack of dresses.
“Have your pick, Sophie. It’s on me.”
“Really?”
“Yes, of course. Consider it your coming home present.” She places a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been gone so long, and Mark was
worried that he had lost you forever, but here you are, back with us, and it
seems like you are a brand new woman!”
“You don’t know the half of it!” I remark with a light-hearted chuckle of my own, realizing
the irony of how true that statement really was.
“So how about this one?” She reaches into rack and pulls out a cute purple number
with a floral print that’s similar to the one I’m wearing right now.
“Purple really isn’t my color.”
“Oh it would look great on you.” She insists, but then instead reaches back into the rack
and produces a teal colored dress. “But
then again, you did always like this color.”
She hands me the teal dress and I stare at it. It does look lovely…
I’m going to
put a stop to this bullshit now!
NO!
“Listen, Ashley,” I throw the dress onto
the floor “I don’t want your handouts,
just like I never wanted your help. I
never needed your help.”
“Sophie, what the hell are you saying?!” Ashley
exclaims.
“I only require the help and assistance from
one person and that person is my Mistress and Goddess, Quinn Murray!”
“You can’t mean that!”
“Like hell I don’t!” I turn around and
start to storm out of the store. “Do
yourself a favor, Ashley and don’t follow me.
There will be consequences if you do!”
==========
Scene 2
Off Camera
==========
I tried to
convince that weakling that life is too difficult for her to handle, I tried to
convince her that she needs me to run this show because she cannot manage
it. She is no doubt kicking and
screaming somewhere in my subconscious but there is nothing she can do about
it. What I did was for her own
good. She cannot be allowed to be in
control of this body. Not now, not when so much is at stake.
Case in
point; a weak worm like her would not do well in professional wrestling. She just doesn’t have the guts for it. She doesn’t have the killer instinct to
strike down her enemy. What would she
have done against the likes of The Gothfather, Bill Barnhart, Billy Breakdown,
or Leiloken Da Vinci? What would she
have done against Maddie Steward and Alexis Quinne?
I’ll tell
you exactly what she would have done; she would have fallen flat on her face. Now with Taking Hold of the Flame on the
horizon there can be no mistakes and no missteps. I cannot risk anything and I especially
cannot let her in control. She doesn’t
have the ability to go through thirty nine other competitors and win the battle
royal.
I entered
that rumble last year and I failed. She
would damn sure have not fared any better than me. This year I’ve had the time to grow and learn
more wisdom and I have had the opportunity to hone my skills. If there is any better opportunity for me to
shock the world and win Taking Hold of the Flame it is now.
No chance in
hell of me letting my weakling split personality stop me.
But I know
she’s there. As she said, she was always
the silent observer, listening in, watching, observing everything. She knows what is going on this very moment
and she no doubt is fighting to get back to the surface.
I can’t let
her win.
For right
now I choose to drink my troubles away in a lively bar on the outskirts of
Belfast, Northern Ireland that happens to be buzzing with excitement. Some may look at these people in the bar
tonight (most of them drunk) and wonder what it is they have to be excited
about? Quite frankly, I could care less
right now what they are excited about. Thankfully
most here tonight are too drunk to recognize me for who I am. I never was much of a major celebrity anyways
unless you were speaking to wrestling fans.
I sit by
myself at a table in the far corner. I
am wearing a sleeveless chiffon knee length teal cocktail dress complete with a
pair of strappy heels. There is a drink,
alcoholic of course, sitting in front of me that has been untouched so far
tonight. That drink isn’t the focus of
my attention.
The focus of
my attention is my iPhone. It sits on
the table and a phone number has already been dialed. It is the phone number that goes directly to
my Mistress Quinn Murray’s personal cell phone.
But while the number has been dialed I have yet to press the send
button.
For the life
of me, I do not know what is holding me back.
Do not call her! Do
not give yourself to her! We do not need
her!
Oh, it’s you
again. I should’ve guessed that you
might have something to do with this.
I may not be in control right now but I will use whatever
influence I have to keep you from making that phone call and surrendering your
life to Quinn Murray again.
You can’t
stop me. Just give it up. You know, maybe that drink could help
some? Getting drunk could help me forget
about you. I take a sip of the drink,
sigh, and then set it back down on the table.
Are you sure about that?
Are you sure that I can’t stop you?
Why haven’t you made that call yet?
I don’t want
to.
And that’s a very CUTE dress you’re wearing.
Shut up!
Tears begin
to form in my eyes. Is this out of
frustration? Sadness? Anger?
It doesn’t matter because I don’t cry!
Damn it, I do not cry!
Crying is natural.
For you,
maybe!
Exactly, because I’m human, and that means I’m regaining
control.
Never!
I take the
glass again, turn it up, and down the whole thing in one big gulp. I slam the glass back down on the table. I shake my head as I stare down at the
phone. I realize the grim reality of my
situation. The weakling is right; I
cannot bring myself to make that call to Mistress. That weakling is exerting too much influence
over me right now.
“Sophie!”
Great. Just bloody great. I recognize that voice.
It’s my brother!
Yes,
dimwit. It’s the Neanderthal. I see him in his typical drab attire of torn
denim jeans, black boots, a wife beater top, and a black leather jacket. He walks over to my table and stare at me
stoically, emotionlessly.
“Can I sit down?”
“May I.”
“Huh?”
“The proper grammar is ‘may I’ sit down, you
moron.” I nod my head. “And yes, you
may sit down.”
“Good, cause I was gonna sit down anyway,
regardless of your answer.” He smirks as he sits down next to me at the
table. He looks at me and once again his
facial features grow more serious. “You
really scared Ashley today.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he nods his head “and you know
something? It all makes perfect sense to
me.”
“Bloody brilliant.” I remark
sarcastically. “I’m glad this makes sense
to someone because I still have no fucking clue.”
“When you came back the other week, when you
left Quinn and returned to Ashley and me, something felt off about the whole
thing. It just felt wrong.”
“What was wrong about it was that I left her
in the first place!” I snap back angrily. “I need her! I…”
“No, that’s not it.” He shakes his head.
“I may be dumb but I know my family and I
damn sure know my own sister. For so
many damn years you called me names…”
I smirk
knowingly. “Dimwit…Neanderthal…moron…”
“Yeah, all that. I’ve taken verbal abuse from you for a damn
long time but I didn’t care because I knew you didn’t mean it. But then randomly that one night you suddenly
turned a one-fucking-eighty and your entire personality changed.” Mark
sighs and then shakes his head. “That
kinda change just don’t happen overnight.
Even I know that.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I knew this was either one of your schemes
or plots or whatever and you were trying to play us all for fools or that there
was something else wrong with you, something you were keeping from us.”
“Congratulations, Mark!” I clap
sarcastically. “Congratulations on
rubbing two of your three brain cells together in order to form a coherent
thought!”
“GOD DAMN IT SOPHIE!” His voice is
louder than I ever recall hearing it directed at me. He even bangs his balled up fists on the
table. “AFTER EVERYTHING WE’VE BEEN
THROUGH, AFTER EVERYTHING I’VE DONE FOR YOU, I THINK YOU OWE ME THIS!”
I stare at
him with wide-eyed shock as he slowly tries to calm down. My own strength and resolve starts to fade as
I listen to him continue his rant.
“You owe this one to me because once again I
am trying to save you. Ashley is trying
to save you. But we can’t do anything
unless we know the truth. So tell me the
truth, Sophie, because I’m sick of the games and the manipulation. Tell me the truth about what’s going on here
or I’ll bundle you up and drop you off at that crazy bitch’s doorstep myself if
that’s what you bloody well want.”
The tears once again flow freely down my eyes.
“I can’t control myself! I need your help, Mark! I desperately need your help!”
“It’s ok, Sophie.” He embraces me in a tight hug and pats me on the back to
comfort me. “Just start from the
beginning and tell me everything.”
Pride is apparently one thing that my dark half and I both
share. We both seem unwilling to reach
out for help when it is needed. Why else
would I have been reluctant to tell Mark and Ashley? But he’s right, he needs to know. So I proceed to tell him everything, much to
the chagrin of my darker half.
==========
On Camera
==========
“Those who cannot remember the past are
condemned to repeat it.” --- George Santayana
George
Santayana was a Spanish-born American philosopher. The
Life of Reason: The Phases of Human Progress is a book he published in five
volumes. The first volume, “Reason In
Common Sense”, came out in 1905 and that was when he made that oh so famous
statement. Those who cannot remember the
past are condemned to repeat it.
You know
from observation that I do enjoy quoting great military men like Sun Tzu and
William Tecumseh Sherman, men who not only knew the Art of War but valued the
concept of waging total war in order to get what you want. I study them for their wisdom regarding
strategy but I also study them for their valuable lessons of history. You can catch me on an off day and defeat me,
humble me.
If I’m being
honest, I’ve had quite a few of those “off days” lately. I’ve had many off days since I made my debut
in Supreme Championship Wrestling one year ago at last year’s Taking Hold of
the Flame as a surprise entrant in the battle royal itself. I thought the element of surprise would serve
me well.
Clearly I
was mistaken.
But while
you may catch me on an off day, you will never catch me making the same
mistakes over and over again. My first
year in SCW has been a train wreck of failures, one after another, after
another; it was enough to make any other competitor depressed and ready to hang
up the boots.
I am not
just any other competitor. I am Sophie
O’Brian, a wise master strategist, and unlike so many others in this company, I
will not be condemned to repeat the mistakes of my past. I have learned from my past mistakes and I
have corrected them. I have taken steps
to improve my wrestling ability. And if
you do not believe me just look at what I have done lately to the likes of
Billy Breakdown, The Gothfather, Bill Barnhart, Leiloken Da Vinci, Madison
Steward, and Alexis Quinne.
I defeated
them all and I will defeat them again if I encounter them in the battle
royal. All of them will fall before me
as I eliminate everyone, one at a time, as I march my way towards Greatness.
My strategy
this year isn’t the element of surprise.
I’m making it abundantly clear that I am entering Taking Hold of the
Flame and I have every intention of winning.
This year I am working with a new strategy; the element of being
overlooked.
Let’s face
facts; for one year I’ve been on a downward spiral. Only recently have I begun to work my way
back to my championship level. But do
you think anyone has been paying attention to little Sophie and what she’s been
doing? Has anyone bothered to care about
me and the tear I’ve been on as I’ve been running through each and every
superstar that Helms has thrown my way?
I’m
overlooked. I’m barely mentioned on the
show outside of the SCW Television Championship match against Ikiro
Yoshida. People focus on Giovanni Aries
and his lizard king antics. People focus
on Syren and that multi-level conspiracy.
Sienna Swann and her demands to get this spot in the battle royal or
that spot in the battle royal get attention as do the constant back and forth
soap opera that is the Helms family gets a great deal of attention. Amy Chastaine and that so-called scandal
involving her multiple lovers gets all the attention. Even that goodie-two-shoes Jones girl gets
some of the spotlight due to her Best of Five Series with Katelyn Buehler.
I have no
scandals, no soap opera, no fancy best of five series, and no fanciful
make-believe reptilian leaders to draw the spotlight onto me. I don’t throw social media tantrums to get
something out of David Helms. I just do
one thing and I happen to do it very well.
I wrestle.
I’m very
good at it because I was trained by the best wrestler to ever come out of Great
Britain. SCW puts someone in front of me
and I beat them. They put another person
in front of me and I beat them too. And
I keep going on and on like the energizer bunny because no one can stop
me. I will keep going and going and
going and eliminating wrestler after wrestler, competitor after competitor,
until I am the last one standing.
One year ago
I entered Taking Hold of the Flame as a surprise entrant and lost and then I
proceeded to have a dismal first year in SCW.
One year later I have grown, I have matured, and I know more than I did
one year prior. One year later it is no
surprise that I am entering Taking Hold of the Flame but this time I’m going to
win and usher in an era of wisdom, The Era of Sophie O’Brian, and my very first
lesson to the SCW roster at large will be a very hard hitting and very humbling
lesson…
…never
underestimate and never ever overlook Sophie O’Brian.
