The Tell-Tale Heart Revised
Additional character(s): The Old Man's family
I have seen the life of misfortune from an early age, a strict annoyance to the crowd. I have been deemed mentally ill and diagnosed with some petty account. I have served my masters responsibly and kept to myself. Nothing is more of a vex to me than a psychotic master. One master has destroyed my life tremendously – mentally – and nothing more. I will recount the story in a peaceful manner.
It was a seven day period of torturous agony to which I proposed to murder my master. He was old but his glass eye gave me a shiver of terror. I was more nice and generous to the old man these last seven days then ever before. He proposed me to help him with whatever he wanted, which I dearly accepted, but he had yet to realize that I would murder him. Now, it is the eighth day and I have cleverly constructed a plan: murder the old man and dispose his body.
I must say that I acted vehementful while planning the murders. Something putrid from my inside was delighted and wanted this to happen. It was only the matter of time before I knew that he would suspect of my actions, only a matter of time.
Tonight was the eighth night and it was about midnight. I have never felt so much audacity to kill a man that I almost cringed. I held a lantern and nervously opened the door to the old man's room. He did not hear this but I suspected that he would wake-up if he heard a peep. I took my rope and gagged him, I then tied his mouth shut and told him to stand-up, to which he obeyed. I ordered him to go down the staircase that led into the basement. He obeyed this order but he gulped, his last gulp.
At this time, I tied him up to a table and took out a saw. He tried to scream but he could not scream at all. I sawed his foot off and watched the blood flow rapidly – almost like a river – yet I contained my excitement. I then cut all of his body parts and put them into a bucket. I took this bucket and threw it into a river. He was to never be seen again. So I thought.
It was morning time and I heard a knock. His family wanted to surprise him by visiting. The family was worried and decided to call the cops. This is where life goes from great to a disaster. Policemen came and investigated the house but could not find anything. I was questioned but merely, they could not get anything out of me. Everyone decided to stay for a couple weeks and investigate. This is when I decided that I must kill myself.
I took time to chat with the family and policemen. Both delighted me but that would be for a separate time. I went into the basement and grabbed the rope I used to killed the old man with. I then made a noose and threw it onto a bar that held my clothes. I was depressed and overall I felt that I was arrogant. I snook into the kitchen and took a knife, a large knife. I then wished the family and the policemen good night. These were my last words that I would speak.
My life was horrendous but it could have been worst. I was antagonized by my decision and almost forced myself to not go through it. It was uplifting to me that I decided it must be done. I grabbed a chair from the corner in my bedroom, I put the knife into my stomach, and then I kicked the bench forward. The family caught me in time and I was critically but barely alive. I now will find a way to kill myself, but that is for another day. I am happily in prison for the murder of the old man.