Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Tell-Tale Heart
TRUTH! - Nervous - very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am, but why do you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses - not destroyed - not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in heaven and on earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I crazy? Listen! and observe how healthily - how calmly I can tell you the wholestory.
It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain, but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. Loved the old. I never hurt. I had never insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! Yes, it was! One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture - a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my bloodran cold, and little by little - very little - I made up my mind to take the life of the old and rid myself of the eye forever.
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded - with what caution - with what foresight - with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during thewhole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it - oh so gently! And then, when the opening was large enough for my head, lifted a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it! I moved it slowly - very, very slowly, so I would not disturbthe old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him lying in bed. Ha! - Would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, opened the lantern cautiously - oh, so cautiously - cautiously (for the hinges creaked) - I undid it just so that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did forseven long nights - every night at midnight - but I found the eye always closed, and so it was impossible to do the job, because it was the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had spent the night. So you see he would have been a veryprofound old man to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked at him while he slept.
On the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. The minute hand of a clock moves faster than mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers - of my sagacity. I could barely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was opening the door little bylittle, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I chuckled at the idea, and perhaps he heard me, for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. You think that I drew back - but no. His room was as black as pitch thick, (for the shutters were close fastened through fear of robbers), and so I knew that I could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily,steadily.
Had my head, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out - "Who's there?"
I stood very still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He sat up in bed listening - just as I have done, night after night, listening to the death watches in thewall.
I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. There was a groan of pain or of grief - oh, no! - Was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when everyone was asleep, came from my bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew...