vs. everyone

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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!”

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Scene 2

Off Camera

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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.

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On Camera

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“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.