November 1st, 1935
Last night I killed a man. I'll try to write down everything I remember.
Around six o'clock, I saw the Finch children that live down the street head out on their usual route to school. The boy − I know now that his name is Jem − was carrying what looked like a giant ham awkwardly under his arm. The little girl, Scout, looked like she could easily fit into it.
They rounded the corner and I lost sight of them. Later, around 9 o'clock, I heard Scout's voice coming from the school-yard behind our house yell out something, so I went to a window to check on them. My eyes, well-fitted to the darkness, showed me a large shadow approaching Jem and what I assumed to be Scout, wearing the ham. I knew they were in trouble, so I rushed out to save them without thinking.
When I got there, Jem was already lying unconscious on the ground, his arm sticking out at an awkward angle. The man was trying to crush the ham that was Scout. He had dropped a kitchen knife on the ground and I grabbed it. As soon as I was within arms-length, I pulled him off of Scout and trust the knife into his gut. My next action was to gather up Jem and head for the Finches house. Scout, having rid herself of her costume, followed me.
When the sheriff arrived, he and Mr Finch had a long discussion about the whole incident. I wasn't really listening, but I understood that they intend to tell the public that the man, Ewell, fell on his knife and stabbed himself. I'm relieved that I won't be trust into the public's attention.
At the end of the evening, I went to see Jem and then Scout walked me home. The fact that I had just killed a man was fresh in my mind, but I couldn't let those children die. I want them to have the life I never did and I think killing that disgusting excuse for a man was worth it. Besides, Scout's lack of fear towards me all the thanks I could ever ask for. I am truly happy tonight. Nathan will scold me for it, but I don't care, because in those children's eyes, I'm a hero.
Boo