"Hey kids! How'd you sleep last night?," our great uncle asked casually as he placed two plates of scrambled eggs in front of each of us.

Mabel smiled, her braces shinning in the morning rays of the sun that streamed through the kitchen window. "I slept amazing!" She stabbed her fork randomly into the mass of eggs on her plate and continued. "I had the strangest dream! I was at the beach and I was swimming and swimming and then a whale ate me! And then-"

"Geez kid!," Stan said, cutting her off. "I just wanted to know how you slept. No more, a lot less." He poked around in his own plate of eggs and gestured toward me. "I better ask you how your night was before you get your feelings hurt."

"Gruncle Stan, I haven't slept in three days," I said sternly. I pushed aside my eggs and placed my arms on the table.

"Hm. And why's that?," he asked, never looking up from his eggs. It sounded more like a statement.

"Because you make sounds as loud as a fog horn!," I yelled, flailing my arms in the air.

"Sorry kid," Stan smirked "I like beans, but beans don't like me back."

"No!," I yelled in frustration. "You snore! Really loud! It keeps me up!"

"Geez, Dipper," Mabel said, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Calm down. You don't have to yell!"

I sighed and slumped down in my chair. "I'm sorry. I'm just really tired and I can't think strait. I just don't understand! How can you stand his obnoxious snoring!"

Mabel shrugged. "I just do."

Stan stood up with an empty plate and dumped it in the trash. "Alright kids. Get dressed. We're gona have a busy day today, I just know it!"

Just my luck. Today was as busy as Stan said, if not more. I found myself drifting off at times, only to be yelled at by Stan.

"I will have no slackers today!," Stan griped. "It's bad for my business!"

I sighed and went back to work. Mabel made her way to my side, sweeping as she went. "Hey, you O.K?"

"Yeah. Just tired. I can't keep my eyes open."

Mabel grinned. "Hey! I'll keep you awake! I have plenty of energy to spare!"

"No kidding," I groaned.

I looked over myself in the bathroom mirror. I looked awful. The bags under my eyes were more noticeable that usual and my hair was a mess. I sighed and attempted to splash my face with water, but I was so tired I missed my face and threw it over my shoulder, splattering on the floor behind me.

"Dipper!," Mabel said, banging on the door. "Did you fall asleep on the toilet!? I gota go!"

I opened the door and stepped out, letting her in. "Thank you!," she said as she closed the door behind me. I rubbed my eyes and made my way upstairs.

I took off my hat and vest and tossed them on the floor. I climbed into bed and waited for sleep to take over me. But it didn't. I felt like I was wide awake but yet I was so tired.

I was just about to fall asleep when Mabel walked in, yelling at the top of her lungs,"Dipper! The floors' all wet in there! Did you-"

"Mabel! I was almost asleep!"

"Oh! Sorry!," she whispered "Common Waddles. We have to be quiet." Waddles oinked and jumped up on Mabel's bed. Mabel followed suit and nestled down into bed.

I wasn't surprised when I woke up two hours latter to the sound of snoring. The noise seemed to shake the old shack as it floated upstairs to my ears. I looked over at Mabel. She was sleeping fine as well as Waddles.

I tried plugging my ears with my fingers, but that didn't help much. I grabbed my pillow and folded it over my head. It seemed to block the noise some, but I could still here it nagging at my nerves. I held that position for hours as I just stared up at the ceiling, barely even blinking.

For a week I went on like this, with each day becoming less and less sane. Finally, on the eighth day, I completely lost it. I needed to find a way to stop Stan from snoring... And I went with the first thing that came to mind.

Throughout the day, I planed everything. I was so confident in my plan that I thought it was foolproof. Nothing could go wrong.

That night, I put my plan into action. I waited until midnight, when the world was fast asleep. Stan started to snore around 10:50, but I still waited patiently for midnight.

Finally the hour came and I had never been so ready in my life. After tonight, I'll finally get some rest. I grabbed my pocket knife and headed downstairs.

I crept down the stairs ever so silently, not letting the old wooden stairs make a single creak. As I headed down, I began to feel nervous. I couldn't help but to feel bad for the old man. He is my uncle and he wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I loved him dearly, but it must be done. It had to be.

I was so careful that it seemed like hours until I finally stepped foot into the living room. Unfortunately, I was still very tired and tripped over the step that lead into the living room. I fell hard, making a sudden loud thud that broke the silence of the night (minus Stan's loud snoring).

The old man bolted strait up in his yellow arm chair and looked around. "Whose there!," he cried out into the darkness. I stayed on the ground. I knew he couldn't see me. He didn't have his glasses on and there was no light source other that the moon that shone outside.

Suddenly, I heard a faint thud. A quick, dull sound. It sounded like the sound a watch makes when wrapped in cotton. I knew that sound. It was the sound of a heart beat. My uncle's heart beat.

I didn't breath. I didn't move. I laid there, listening to his heart beat faster and faster and louder and louder. It grew louder every moment that went by; louder and louder and louder it grew! Was he really that frightened? Then it grew louder and louder and louder; surely his heart will burst any moment now! Louder and louder and louder; surly Mabel could hear it! I was sure the whole town could hear it! Louder and louder and louder!

I couldn't take it anymore! I jumped up and screamed as loud as I could and ran to the arm chair and flipped it backwards. Stan screamed as well, but once, only once did he scream. The chair tumbled backwards with Stan in it. There was a loud crack as he hit his head on the stone wall behind him, instantly killing him.

The heart beat slowly faded to a stop. I reached down and touched his neck. There was no pulse. A huge smile spread across my face. Finally, some quiet.

I took out my pocket knife and dismembered his cold, dead body and lifted up some wooden floorboards and dropped each limb inside. I replaced the boards neatly back in place. My plan had succeeded.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Visitors? This late? I opened the door to see two cops I knew well. Sherif Blubs and Deputy Derland.

"What are you doing here?," I asked as casually as I could.

"We were driving by when we heard a scream," Sherif Blubs answered. "Just wanted to make sure everything was O.K."

"Yeah, and where's your uncle?," Deputy Derland asked. Just the question I feared.

"Oh, uh... He's doing some late night shopping. Probably be back in a few hours." These guys were pretty stupid. I didn't suspect they would catch on. My plan was foolproof. I was so confident that I even invited them in.

I showed them around. I showed them all of our exhibits we had around the Shack. After that we walked into the living room and stirred up a conversation. We all sat on the floor. I sat right on top of where I hid Stan.

We continued to talk casually back and forth to each other, but soon I began to get nervous. I wished they would leave but I continued to talk, trying not to be rude. Suddenly, I heard that noise again. The sound of a watch wrapped in cotton.

How could that be?, I thought. He was dead! It began to grow louder and louder. Afraid that the cops would hear the noise, I spoke a little louder. But yet the noise grew. Louder and louder and louder still. I talked even louder to cover the noise. But it grew. Louder. And louder. And LOUDER! How could they not hear that? There's no way they couldn't! Unless they did. Unless they know what I did and there just waiting. Waiting for me to confess.

But the noise didn't stop there. Louder. I began to sweat. Louder. I felt the color drain from my face. Louder it grew until it pounded my ear drums! Louder, louder, louder!

"STOP!," I screamed. "STOP IT!"

The cops stared at me, but didn't say anything.

"I DID IT!," I shrieked. "I ADMIT IT! LOOK! UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS!," I stood up, pointing to the place. "IT'S THE SOUND OF HIS HEART STILL BEATING!"

I can barely believe I wrote this. It's too dark for me, but I'm kinda into Edgar Allen Poe at the moment so that's why I turned one of his greatest stories into a Gravity Falls version of it. I suggest you read his book called "The Tell-Tale Heart". All credit goes to Poe, but he's dead so I guess he'll never know I used it.