The Naive And The Skeptic

There are two oppositive characters: the Naive and the Skeptic in my narration, and these two are in constant conflict with each other and have contradictory views of imagination and realism. These two young adults grew up in a malfuctioning family and lived their lives according to illusionary images prejected on the big screen profoundly absorbed by their abusurd amoralities. Who's to blame for limitating their prospective and contest their inner fantasy? 

Mark spat up his guts reminding his brother, who had never discovered that scandalous secret that perplexed him and so ever-present in his nightmares, where he chased a scurring shadow fading into the thickest fog that obstructed his sight and shortened his heavy breath, making him extremely delirious. How could he live his nights in such a horreondous envoirement of frightening impulses? And he would only fall asleep by sunrise when his limited universe disguised the presence of a pale and opaque moon calling off strange creatures still chanting in Latin, the dead laguage which he studied in High School with little success: could he unpuzzle all the indistinctive words and translate them with a subcousciousness that lacked perception? " Damned demons escaping Hell are troubling me with their tormenting verses!" He reputed them with much contempt, " Do they ever rest and lay down for one night? " He continued with a disgusted tone wiping the dripping sweat off his smooth forehead, still cursing them out fiercely, shifting his feeble body in a confortable position to invite sleep; and sleep came while the perfumed whiff of the pink roses on the balcony floaded by sunlight: granted his wish. Mark slept placidly withouth being hunted by those satanic creatures that only appeared and troubled him with misery and echoing sounds heard on any rainless night. Not even loud noises could awaken him; he resembled a stiff, entombed corpse having found his serenity in that eternal place of rest.   

" My mom was a despicable hooker and worked in Lower Manhattan at The Madame Club, she would tempt millionares who were unfaithful to their wives charging them hefty hourly rates and robbing them while they got drunk on a full bottle of Johnny Walker...ah, poor guys they lost all senses and wakening up they realized how insane was their temptation: being robbed was even worse! " Crazy mom was hooked on hard drugs and lived it up: if there were no tomorrow, neglecting her kids and cheating on dad without a bit of remorse! " These were the harshest words ever to be spoken by a broken son so ashamed of her, and sobbing he held his pounding head between two quivering hands, awaiting some hug of comfort...how could his mom do this without any guilt, any morality?

Robert twitched his red eyebrows and coudn't digest this stark truth and glinting at him exploded in hysterical rage, " My suspecions are confirmed now, our insane mom squandered her money thinking of herself first, putting ourserlves last! " And as Mark listened to the fury of her brother unleashing, he swallowed another bitter pill making him more miserable. " You have always been her favorite son, not because you were the smartest one...because of your good looks; and compared to you: I am the ugliest duckiling around...so skinny and short. " There was a brief pose before he could resume his dialog," You can't hate her, you have no plausible reason. " I am the youngest one missing her mathernal love! " And trurning his pitiful glance to him he went on deepening his accusations, " You were totally in the dark while I watched every step she took. One day I followed her to that brothel that smelled of men's cologne and semen...the perfect place to catch gonorrea! "  And being so exhausted from speaking, Mark summed up his anger more agressively, catching his fading voice, " I was the child of a prostitute who sold her body to wealthy men...who's my father? His words sent shivering sensations to his spine and sobbing from irrepressibile shame and disgust whispered as a miribond would have, " It's better for me to die than live...pretending that I am normal and not torn apart by her loathsome conduct! " Silence grew deeper than the winter's evening withouth the warbling of the quite sterling in the cage that wanted to break free and discover a joy never tasted before.

Before Mark spoke another word, Roger rose from the mohogany chair in the living room which was succumbing to twilight, he was schoked by the revelation, and as any good brother would, he hugged him and comforted him with sympatheric solace, " I wished that I had known this earlier, so that I could have confronted mom and repriminded for her lurid lifestyle. Wouldn't  have she listened to me being on Fentanyl? Wouldn't have she understood the kind of danger she was in? The huge mirror with a gilded frame reflected their image shifting back and forth by a wafty breeze coming from the blooming garden with hyacinths and daffodils facing the placid lake awaiting another evening with a blazing sunset...but they were unable to soothe their embittered moods of frustration!.   

" I have been too mindless letting her do whatever she pleased, even murdering our own father whom she killed with a posioned drink of scotch. I saw him caughing up blood and unable to speak, he pointed his finger at her. Mom stood there watching him die, so did I. She giggled faking ger cocodrile tears. Heartless mother couldn't wait oir him to die and enherit his wealth. We didn't get any money from that inherterance, we struggled with the college tuition and tried to make ends meet. " Roger commented angrily, rising his fist against Heaven, " Why did we have to suffer and not be normal kids and be fancyfree as most kids of our age? " We have been cursed because of the sins of our parents and this hurts a lot! " There was another moment of stilled silence, then Roger bravley remarked , " Enough of bitter memories, let's look to the future and rebuild our lives! " " Be it so for us two! " Replied Mark with a confidence that incited his enthusiam to be all he could be and releazing a burp from the heavy meal he ate in a hurry, now the scented air that filled up their lung could be gladly inhaled having a scope, a determinated goal and greet new springs with zeal. 

The fleeting clouds traveled west obscuring the sunset's glare; they both crackled a laughter...the beginning of a promising future that would give them back the happiness they lost through days wasted on wishes and regrets: of what it could have been. " We must stick together and help each other in times of need. ' Declared Roger with an assertiness that shoke the walls around them. For sheer curiosity, have you replaced the old , cracked mirror in which mother constantly stared into asking, " Am I the prettiest woman alive? " Mark replied, " I have Roger and while I was nailing it to the wall, it slipped from my hand and gitting the wooden floor, scattered in a thousands shards of glass!. " " I must have been too ugly and it rejected my unphotogenic image! I cried, I felt sick to the stomach and vomied! " Mark's remark made Roger burst in an helirious laughter. " I have found a better mirror, but it feels cold to the touch, go, feel it and tell if I'm wrong! " Roher spoke indistinctly with a tremor in his manly voice, " Mirrors have magical powers, how come every mirror I buy repels me with a frightening feeling? Mark's explanetory answe was, " Mirrors are simply mirrors and they warm up when they are hit by sunlight! " " Really, that's your perception, not mine " challenged Roger " I'm revolted by its coldness, and I am wondering if it  possessed by a wicked omen; and this bad luck hounds me...has my body been ensorcered and infiltered by some evil spirit? "   " Don't believe in superstations, they'll drive you crazy. "Is this something that you made up to scare me? " No, that's what I've believes all along! ' Affirmed a stern Roger. " You can bend a post lamp, you can never break a stone! " Mark's words echoed in every room waking up the green-winged sterling that started warbling again.

The two brothers have always been close confiding in each other, but too often were unloved; neither knowing affection, nor feeling the dedicated glance of a loving mother who read them night stories to put them to sleep. They wanted nurturing and become adults with a prupose in mind; nothing of that sort ever happened, leaving them yearning in dispair: facing life alone with its harsh realities. How they longed for a peaceful night's sleep that never came! They wandered in places that frightened: they became their unwished nightmares. Were they ready to let go of their hunting past? If theur wounds had found that healing power, the road would have been much smoother for them, but for these siblings nothing worked un their favor; they struggled to fit in a society that demanded skills and become what they should have been; and without the constant guide of caring parents their confidence did not grow to be successful in life: what a pity is to miss such an opportunity! 

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