The Undying Truth
Representing the Octopus Babies
"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth." ~ Oscar Wilde
Lies. Lies hurt people. When somebody lies, they are hiding information from you. They are DECEIVING you, forcing you to live in a fantasy that they create. Liars hide behind trust, using it as a mask to conceal their true intentions. Trusting somebody is like sticking your head into a lion's mouth, and not expecting it to snap shut. There are no little white lies, only stories one tells to make themselves feel better.
I was lied to once, and it tore me up inside. A stunning enchantress crept into my life, like an elegant deer prancing through the forest. She said she loved me, that she always wanted to be with me. Then one day I woke up, and the pillow next to me was empty. She had lied to me, tricking me into believing that I actually meant something to her. I was just another pole with a face attached to her. An object, not a person.
After that, I swore that I would never allow myself to trust anybody ever again. I refused to believe anything I was told unless I could see the truth. Suddenly, the world was a lot brighter. I didn't have to worry about anybody's feelings, because all that mattered were the things I could see. And I saw a lot, things that I didn't like. People all around me were lying. Boyfriends, girlfriends, parents, children, and even husbands and wives were fabricating the truth.
It wasn't enough to just believe in the visible truths, I had to make the truth known to those around me. If the woman who hurt me ever came back, I want her to see the world I have created: a world without lies. That is why I set out to break the wall of lies around me, by leaving traces of the truth on people's porches. Rumors of my exploits have already surfaced. The media calls me a "silent menace", the mayor and sheriff say I'm a "crazed delinquent", but I would never expect liars such as them to accept my cause. But the people I help, they use nice words. They call me a blessing, they say I'm an "angel of truth", but they're wrong too. I'm not an angel, I'm just a man who was harmed, trying to protect the feelings of those around me. When the woman who lied to me returns, she'll discover that her dishonesty is no longer welcome here. Only by exposing the liars will I be able to start living my life again.
"Why are you so obsessed with the truth?" a prisoner once asked me.
"Because the truth is the only way for one to truly live," I explained, igniting the passion in my heart, "the world thrives on deceit, but it is an unhealthy addiction. People get hurt by lies, lies start wars, but worst of all, lies... end lives."
I visited a psychologist once, my favorite type of liar. They hang their fancy degrees on the walls, displaying their fancy college educations, like they're better than the rest of us. We talked about various things, like my failed relationship. I obviously told him the truth, and explained my new found respect for honesty. He sat there silently, judging me all the while. I didn't mind, his silence meant there was no chance for him to lie. When I finished speaking, he delivered his evaluation. The words he used were hurtful. He said stuff like "you suffer from a God Complex" and "your inability to trust people is ruining your chances of finding a meaningful relationship". He spent a long time telling me about the things that I was feeling, like he was thinking the same thoughts I was. When I had finally had enough of his false accusations, I politely excused myself and vowed never to return.
Not too long after that, I met a young boy. He was followed around by a cute puppy, and they were happily enjoying their youth. The dog ended up dead the next morning. I watched as the parents buried the small animal, and later that day they forged a new fantasy for the little boy. It was the same story you would expect from your parents.
"Roscoe wasn't happy here," the father said, holding his son's hand, "so we sent him to a farm with lots of other animals."
"He's going to be much happier there," his mother continued, "and maybe one day, we'll be able to visit him."
The lengths parents will go to trick their kids amazes me. They tell fairy tales about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, and kids love every minute of it. I remember Christmas Eve, staying up late hoping to catch a glimpse of the jolly old man. Of course, Saint Nick was just another lie crafted by a society of idiots. That boy's parents were no different from THAT woman. Still, I didn't want to harm the young boy, so I made an exception to my oath. Instead of digging up the animal and leaving it in the kid's window, I left the family alone to live their happy little life of lies.
"Hector Anderson, it's time," a police officer called out.
And now the time for self-reflection has finally ended. I step out into the dull hallway, escorted by two police officers. After a minute or two of silence, they lead me into a room with a single chair. The chair has several metal bracelets, meant to restrain the occupant while the police did their work. I remained perfectly calm as the officers strapped me in, watching my reflection in a mirror placed in a wall. I smiled, not because my looks pleased me, but because I wanted to liars on the other side to know that I still believed in the truth. Once I was secure, a man in black clothes with a white collar walked in. He was holding a black book; the book of lies.
"Would you like me to recite a prayer?" the reverend asked.
"No, I want these last moments to be filled with the truth," I replied, "to be lied to now would only disgrace everything I've done to end up here."
The priest stepped back, giving the executioner room to approach me. He placed his large hands on the metal bowl that rested above my head. The bowl was connected to several electrical wires, a terrible accessory for a helmet. He fastened the bowl onto my shaved head, making sure that the instrument of murder was properly fastened. Another officer pulled him back, towards a large lever across from me.
"Any last words?" the man holding the lever asked.
"Certainly," I replied, clearing my throat, "the world is filled with liars, people who deceive. I hate those people. I was lied to once, and it hurt me inside. I did what I did because I wanted to save the honest ones from the deceitful. I was doing a favor to this world, but you fools decide to kill me instead. But know this; one day this web of lies will crumble and the truth will shine through. Until that day comes, my spirit will wander this liar's domain, choking on the stench of falsehood."
The last moments of my existence were filled with horrible pain, and then darkness...
Excerpt from the "New York Times"
Hector Anderson has suffered the death penalty late last night. Hector, 36, was arrested on multiple charges of murder, as well as espionage. The first victim was 27-year old Susan Walters, who was found dead by her boyfriend. The boyfriend testified in court that Hector Anderson had talked to the victim on multiple occasions, believing Ms. Walters to be in love with him. The second victim, Ronald Jackson, was found dead in his office shortly before Hector Anderson's identity was made public. Doctor Jackson had been visited by Anderson, who sought therapy from the victim. Notes found on the doctor's person claimed that Mr. Anderson suffered from a "God Complex" and that he believed "the liars in the world needed to disappear". The doctor also noted that Hector left his office in anger after Doctor Jackson suggested that he was "lying to himself". The last two victims - Percy and Sheila Donaldson - were hung from a tree in their backyard one morning. Under their corpses was a dead puppy, whose throat was apparently slit sometime before the murder. The couple's young son witnessed the hanging, and promptly called the police, leading to Anderson's arrest.
During his imprisonment, Hector Anderson wrote in a journal that detailed his crimes. This is the last entry in that journal, which he requested to be made public after his execution: "Ronald Jackson was right, I was lying to myself. I realize now that the truth isn't something that should be forced onto people. You can't be happy if you don't believe in the things that cannot be proven. I was selfish when I killed my sweet Susan, and a fool to kill Doctor Jackson. I tried to keep the Donaldson's lies a secret to protect their son, but my actions ended up harming him more than the little lie ever would. Still, I will spend the rest of my life lying to myself. I still believe that accepting the truth will bring you joy, and that is why I will continue to deceive myself. It is a fitting punishment for one such as myself. I apologize for the murders, and I must also apologize to everybody following my case. I was constantly lying to you all, and that was a mortal sin.
The truth is, Hector Anderson was delusional. He refused to believe the actual truth in life, instead he chose to turn his fantasies into the truth. He killed those who he thought would expose the lie he was telling himself. Behind the mask of an "Angel of Truth", he was able to commit murder. Hector embodied two of the author Oscar Wilde's quotes. The first was using a mask in order to live his own version of the truth. The second quote is one that the world should abide by in order to be happy. This quote represents the hard truth of the world, a cynical line that is one of the few statements that can be accepted as being absolutely honest.
"The secret of life is to appreciate the pleasure of being terribly, terribly deceived." ~ Oscar Wilde