The Enemy Within: - Brooke L. Masters (portable ebook reader .TXT) 📗

What would you do; how would you react if you knew that you were someone, but whom? You know that you’ve had a past other than what you can recollect; you once lived a life of someone other than yourself. You doubt who you are; your whole existence…why? You’re living the life of someone other than your true nature, your identity; your self awareness. Everywhere you go, you wonder if you’re living a lie or just going through a phase, in total doubt for a higher calling.

No, I’m not talking about reincarnation~ what if--just what if your whole past was wiped out by someone or something--or you? Theoretically speaking, if you somehow managed to forget your past, was it done consciously or subconsciously? I’ve heard of people being diagnosed with multiple personalities, but what I am trying to explain goes far beyond that, like-Like God creating a human being, had made a mistake, and then replaced your whole character; your personality, who you were with someone else’s.

It’s like being born again. Yes, I know, I know~ God DOESN’T--rather, He CAN’T make any mistakes because He is perfect. So, I ask you once again, what would you do if you lived a life other than your own? Living a dark and sinful life that either you or someone else tried and succeeded in erasing until now. How would you respond after looking into the mirror and what’s reflected is someone you don’t know or who you don’t even realize exists anymore?

June 20th

“Now, now Reuben, how many times has your father and I told you not to go outside of town? This is the third time that you’ve broken your arm due to you carelessly visiting the dump! And why do you go there?” she said as the milkman carried me inside the house. See, the McAllister’s are rich winery operators up north in California. “I just found him on my route and brought him here, ma'am.” the milkman explained. “With your permission, I’ll call Doc. Burns.” the milkman continued as he picked up the phone and dialed the number.

In the back, watching all of this, Tony and Brad smirked while mom and dad situated me in my bed. “Reuben…?” called a voice. I stood up pulling a chair for her as I called out her name. “Hmm? Oh Cynthia!” She wore a short, low cut dress with a matching clutch bag and gloves. “Thanks for joining me.” I continued. She smiled and asked as she removed her silky gloves, “What’s on your mind?” I paused for a moment, soaking in the cool Summer breeze, then speaking, I said, “Just reminiscing, I suppose.” “Don’t beat around the bush so much; tell me your innermost thoughts.” she replied.

I knew from the tone of her voice that she was concerned about me. I couldn’t help but feel as though my soul became raptured into her beauty. Funny thing, I didn’t seem to mind at all, resist it; after all, she is the love of my life. There, I sat down in the chair directly across from her, spilling out my thoughts and desires while she gazed into my eyes; her green eyes penetrated my soul, taking in every word that I spoke and digested them. I knew she was listening when she smiled. I never REALLY poured out my heart to anyone unless necessary and today was necessary.

“…mom would always scold me for my older brother’s actions. Until the day my parents died, I couldn’t tell you why they insisted on believing that I was always the guilty party. One thing puzzles me though.” I said with a worried expression that Cynthia knew all too well. She placed her hand on mine, smiled and said, “Please, tell me.” I looked at her with a blank face, as though I was talking to myself. “Why would my parents choose me over Tony and Brad, whom they adored so much, to run the family business? I’m the youngest McAllister…why me?”

“There were things that both your brothers excelled at that you just couldn’t comprehend. Maybe that’s why things happened the way they did because they knew with your high level of excellent business skills combined with Tony and Brad’s legal and marketing skills, the winery would be worth billions.” we both sat there, thinking over what was said until we were approached by a waitress. “May I take your order?”she said with a welcoming smile. “Uh? Yes please.” I replied.

Cynthia and I were childhood friends. Her family became rich when the CEO of an oil company willed them his empire. Unfortunately, Cynthia and her family moved away, leaving a void in both of our hearts. One day while I was studying, Cynthia, a young blonde-haired woman, stood before me with books in hand, asked if she could sit with me. “Please, be my guest.” As I focused on my studies, I could feel her green eyes burning my soul.

“Here…” she said as she placed a picture by my hand. “I believe we go back a few years.” I took a good look at the old photo of both her and me; then I took a real hard look at her. The expression on my face made her laugh aloud so much that she quickly placed a hand over her mouth and looked around the room.

“Cynthia!” I managed to say. She was still thin, but healthy. Did she change one bit? No. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she whispered. I nodded in agreement.

“Thanks for lunch, Reuben.” I smiled, then asked, “Care to join me for dinner tonight?” she held her head down before speaking. “I-I can’t come tonight.” Hmm, that was pretty strange for Cynthia to decline dinner.

“May I ask why not?”

“It’s a family matter. I’ll be leaving for France tonight.” she replied with a sad voice. I knew not to ask her for more information if it was a family matter. Ever since I’ve proposed to Cynthia, a family feud started and both of us made a decision to just let our family’s feud continue without getting involved. Mr. and Mrs. Davidson, Cynthia’s parents, distant themselves from her because they thought that I would just take her away from them. As painful as it was, my parents distant themselves somewhat away from me because they were dead certain that Cynthia’s a gold-digger. There was no use trying to get them to stop the feud.


Of course I was disappointed, however, it’s just dinner and family comes first. I drove her home and left without saying a word. It was going to be a very long week. I thought. Although the drive from Cynthia’s home to mine was an hour away, it felt like an eternity. “What is home?” I asked out loud as I poured myself a glass of Scotch.

“What is home?”

I repeated the question as though I had an audience. I did have an audience~ an audience of one--me. I decided to go get the family’s photo album. “Why do I always keep it too far away, yet so close?” I mumbled to myself as I made my way up the spiral staircase. I didn’t know why I was so irritated that evening. Wait…yes I did. My older brothers live 20 miles away, Cynthia lives 20 more miles away and my parents died. Funny thing though, I’ve never felt really depressed until now. At that moment, I made a choice to visit a shrink.

I knew of a family friend who’d help me out, so I called him. “Dr. Black, I’m sorry to visit you on such short notice, but; there’s something that I need to get off my chest and you are the one that I trust more than anyone else.” I said as I sat there with my eyes closed. Half sleep, half away, Dr. Black responded, “Don’t worry, I was wide away anyway.

To Be Continued.

Text: Brooke L. Masters
Publication Date: 02-07-2012

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