“I like the moon. I like knowing that it’s always there, whether I see it or not. It’s nice to have something constant – like a friend I can look up to whenever I’m feeling lonely. It’s a relief, like I can never really be alone, not completely. You start to appreciate the idea of constancy and reliability when your life seems to lack it. We humans are doomed to appreciate everything only when it’s too late… We start appreciating something when it’s no longer there for us to appreciate at all.
“I know why you’re here. It’s the only reason anyone ever comes to see me anymore. Questions, questions, questions. That’s all you ever have for me. ‘What happened that night, Annie?’ or ‘Did you really do it?’ You all want me to talk, so you can write it down on your little notepad and have even more of a reason to treat me like a nutter. Well, I hate to break it to you, Doctor, but I’m not insane. No, I’m not insane.
“Are you married, Doctor? Yes? So am I. But I guess you already knew that, didn’t you? You doctors seem to know everything about me. Well, not everything, no, no. You wouldn’t be here if you knew everything, now, would you? I’m the only one who knows the truth.
“My husband and I got married twenty years ago. I remember that day as clearly as I can see you sitting in front of me right now. Oh, I looked so beautiful that day. One of the very few times in my life when I truly felt beautiful. I remember walking down that aisle and seeing the love of my life waiting for me at the end of it. It was beautiful; really, it was. I was so young, so innocent. I was barely 23.
“The years seemed to move by pretty quickly after I got married. Like I had already lived the best years of my life. And in a way, I had. The older you get, you see, the more you realise that everything you thought you knew about the world was an illusion. How old are you, Doctor? 55? Oh, well, why am I telling you this? You should know far more than me by now. But, maybe you don’t. Some people never get out of that illusion, you know. I think most people don’t, actually. Most people are happy enough with the blinkers attached to their eyes. They choose to live in ignorance.
“I couldn’t do that, though. I realised that the happily-ever-afters I had been told about when I was younger had all been lies. Every last one of them. I realised this while doing the most mundane of tasks the world had ever invented – the laundry. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My husband is an intelligent man, but sometimes he overlooks the most obvious of things. You see, Doctor, I never wear lipstick. Never have in my life. I just don’t like the idea of having something constantly touching my mouth. I think it’s a ridiculous frivolity we women are expected to succumb to, though I never did succumb to it. So, Doctor, how do you think I felt when I saw a bright red lipstick stain on his shirt collar?
“I showed it to him that night. Oh, the look on his face. Makes me smile just thinking about it. He looked like he’d seen a ghost; his face turned pale and his eyes grew wide. He tried to speak, poor soul. Oh, he tried to speak. I can still hear him say ‘It’s not what you think’. You see, he thought I was stupid. He thought he could wriggle his way out of it. But I knew better. I had figured out that it was all an illusion: our love, our life, my life, my happiness. It was all an illusion. So I could finally see him for what he truly was.
“He was still living in the illusion, Doctor. That was why he had cheated on me in the first place. He thought that he could find happiness somewhere else, I know that’s what he thought. He couldn’t see the truth of it all. He couldn’t see that what he was doing was wrong, Doctor. I had to show him that the life he was living was wrong.
“I have always loved Tony, Doctor. And if you love someone, you help them onto the right track, right?
“Yes, I did the right thing that night. I saved him, Doctor. I saved him from continuing to live in the lie. I saved him. Oh, he was grateful. I know he was. I could see it in his face. He looked peaceful afterwards, so peaceful. I had never seen his face look so peaceful – almost angelic, it was. He didn’t blink, just stared straight ahead as he saw the truth.
“But I couldn’t stop there. No, I couldn’t just save him. Sons tend to follow in their fathers’ footsteps, Doctor. Do you have a son? Well, he’ll probably turn out to be a lot like you. Cold and cynical, judging people and declaring them ‘insane’. Or is it ‘mentally challenged’? I had a good laugh when I heard the nurse say that about me the other day. No, no. Sons should be saved as well. They should be saved from following in the sinful steps of their fathers. So I saved my son as well. Yes, I saved my little boy. That was harder to do, much harder. He was asleep, my son. I didn’t dare to wake him. No, it would be better if he stayed asleep. I went into his room ever so quietly; I did my very best not to wake him, Doctor. Oh, but it didn’t work. He woke up, and smiled when he saw me leaning over his bed. He thought the pillow I had with me was for myself; I sometimes spent the night in his room when my husband stayed out late, you see. ‘Oh, no, this pillow’s for you,’ I whispered to him. And it was. I used that pillow to save him, Doctor. That pillow saved him. I saved him. I saved them both; yes, I saved them both. I took away the bad parts of them. I took away the illusion.
“So, you see, I’m not insane, Doctor. I’m just the only one who can see the truth.”
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